Feb. 20th, 2013

aaaaaaaagh_sky: (sniper)
[personal profile] aaaaaaaagh_sky
No matter how much Ellen tells herself time passes in the Bar but not at home, not actually starting on her mission feels like dilly-dallying. She's got tracking to do, and it's not getting done here.

On the other hand, the mission could get ugly even if she's not seen, so...

"Bar, if you could give this note to Annabelle Newfield," she says, "and- well, I guess a similar one to Voodoo if he's around, or, I don't know, Mr. Mills or Michael Westen, or whoever, I would appreciate it."

The note says simply, I've been asked to track a group of raiders with guns they really shouldn't have back to their source, and then either report back to Senior Paladin Tristan or 'take appropriate steps if feasible'. Would you like to help me find out where these people and their weapons are coming from?; she signs the bottom and watches it disappear.

And then, because she wants to be sure she still has an appropriate edge in case they surprise her, she heads upstairs to put on her repainted Tesla armor. She's got some heavy energy weapons in Karkat's storage deck and she wants to get in some practice out back, so if anyone wants to see what a Gatling laser or similar is like in action, now would be a good time to visit the range.
masterofgunfu: (beast-not now)
[personal profile] masterofgunfu
 [OOM: Andrea has a terrible, no good, awful time babysitting. Warning for gore and a really long post. Spoilers for Magic Burns.]
masterofgunfu: (A-monday bloody monday)
[personal profile] masterofgunfu
 [OOM: Immediately before entering tonight...]

Andrea shuffles in looking tired, worn and a lot worse for wear. She is wet, as if recently bathed, and yet dark sticky bits clump in her hair. She knows she smells of blood, lymph, sweet and other less fun bodily fluids, quite possibly enough that normal humans can even tell.

Making it to Bar, she settles onto a stool and asks for something with high calories and protein. It takes a lot out of a girl, the things she's been throw the past few hours. A glass of something dark green and slimy appears next to a steaming bowl of broth, noodles and strips of beef. She also gets a note which surprises her.

After her first bowl of noodles is done, she orders a second and asks for paper and pen. What the hell, if she was going to walk back to her own death back home, might as well have some fun first.

[OOC: Open for tags but I am running for slowtime until tomorrow.]
el_enmascarado_de_plata: Closeup of Santo in a silver full face Spandex mask and sequined cape (Default)
[personal profile] el_enmascarado_de_plata
The door swings open, and a man in a tasteful blue sportcoat, the world's most badass turtleneck, a pair of immaculately pressed slacks, and a sparkling silver Spandex mask over everything but his eyes, mouth, and the tip of his nose strolls in. The only sign that this isn't where Santo planned to be this evening is a slight twitch of the Spandex that probably corresponds to his eyebrows going up.

It happens again when the note appears on the Bar as he approaches.

"Really? Well, if you say so, Senorita Bar," he says. and plants his hands on the bartop before neatly vaulting over and landing on the other side. "Very well- I am at your service."

They don't, by and large, do mixed drinks in the bars Santo usually frequents- or if they do they don't have specials on any of them, so there's no sign going up tonight. However, he's perfectly happy to consult the black book of recipes if there's a need.

Luchador happy hour it is!
poins: (z -- T-Minus)
[personal profile] poins
Ned Poins is by the bar, quaffing some ale.

And fieryTrigon now is signed on.
mr_gaeta: (between ignorance and hope)
[personal profile] mr_gaeta
[OOM:

And have you heard that you're mistaken
To want something to cling to?
]

(Spoilers for and most dialogue from BSG's "The Face of the Enemy" webisode series. Warning for violence in both links and suicidal ideation in the second.)