(no subject)

[orange_lily]

The glowing feathers that accompany Yugo's de-transformation follow him as he enters the bar today, along with the distinctive smell of fire and rotten fruit clinging to his clothes and hair.

(The Mandrake Phantom is his least favourite Phantom. Especially since its preferred method of forcing people to despair was kind of gross.)

"Duuude," he murmurs to Bar as he approaches. "I could totally use a raspberry sundae with sparkles. And a clean shirt. Oh, and a basin of hot water and some shampoo."

Botherable.

[OOM - backdated to 2011, millitime]

[nomorekaraoke]

Once I knew a sage, who sang upon the stage
He told about the world, his lover
A ghost without a name, stands ragged in the rain
And it seems that there are no more songs

grace augustine // with the cigarette, in the barroom

[donthidemycigs]

Grace comes in trailing cigarette smoke. The day had started decent enough with both Ninat and Neytiri able to identify every world in the model solar system during school hours. The children are soaking up knowledge like sponges, more so every day. It all went down the shitter when she later tried to inform Parker her department is in desperate need of better supplies. They're running on Mickey Mouse shit, and she knows for a fact there's a shipment vessel due to set course by the end of the week. But no, we wouldn't want to take up space that could be used for more precious military supplies.

Assholes.

"I need a beer," she says, stopping at the bar. A bottle of Sam Adams materializes, followed by a couple small parcels. She stuffs her cig between her lips and examines the packages, and then her last conversation with Shephard pops into mind. "That son of a bitch."

Dr. Grace Augustine is grinning. Oh, she can't wait to take these back to the lab. If only she had some goddamn decent equipment. Fuckers.


(OoC: Warnings for potential slowness, as I wage an epic battle against my dodgy ISP. But open all weekend!)

(no subject)

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Somewhere in the remains of what was once the Pentagon, a door swings open onto Milliways instead of a tiny bunkroom. This is good, because Ellen's only got one hand available to open and close the door with, and she can just barely see over the crate of vaguely comet-shaped, fist-sized, pale green fruits. "Hey, bar?" she says as she navigates her way there, trusting Dogmeat to clear the way of possible obstacles. "Could you hold these for me and give them to Tyler Marlocke the next time he comes in? And, um. Could I get some fried cram and some sort of vegetable or something, please? I haven't had dinner yet and the fruit smell is making me hungry."

She'll be happy to talk just as soon as she sets the benighted things down somewhere safe, so feel free to say hi.

(no subject)

[damncompass]

[OOC: After a rousingly drunk game of Warehouse Munchkin:

I beg to dream and differ from the hollow lies
This is the dawning of the rest of our lives

A moment of maudlin can turn to something sweet.]

(no subject)

[electro_kinetic]

Noriko was tired when she came in. Not thinking straight, obviously, she had an energy drink--it was only a shot, really, though the little plastic bottle was garishly colorful.

That blue-black-yellow and skintone blur you see doing laps around the lake would be her, yeah.