(no subject)

[pullsneedles]

The bar population finishing breakfast pops up by one.

The boy from Tazmily, the shepherd's son, Hinawa's child, Claus's twin, the youngest gardener at Milliways curls up in a cozy booth with the remains of an omelet sitting on his plate and a cold glass of apple juice leaving a ring of water on the table. His room is straightened up and his sunflowers are cared for. It will be time to leave soon, time to find what awaits him in New Pork City.

And he's as ready as he's ever going to be.

But he might as well enjoy one more easy day at home before he goes.

Come join him.


[ooc: Last Lucas ep before he goes back to finish canon. Beware slows as I'll be running around town. Open until I say it's not.]

Breakfast in Milliways -- and in the trollian cyberspace

[cook_the_rude]

There are several patrons having several different breakfasts, and some of them are carrying T-Minus devices.

• One, a pink-dressed lady in a dark corner, away from the light, knitting something green over a pot of tea.
  abstemiousCountess is signed on.
  
  
• Two, a gentleman in suit and tie sitting at a table, having coffee and a croissant while watching people over the rim of his iPad.
  rhymingImago is signed on.
  
  
• Three, a young woman with a laptop slouching before the fireplace, drinking a dark liquid from a big bottle with a palm-tree on. She is wearing stompy boots, artificial fairy wings, frills and entirely too much make-up.
  argenteanSerpent is signed on.
  
  
• Four, a grimy dark-haired man, much ill-used the last night (it seems) and sinking slowly into a mug of small beer while slouched o'er the bar.
  fieryTrigon is signed on.

[[meta: either troll one of them, or approach in person saying in your tag whom you want. you will find their proper colour codes here on the t-minus directory! i did not yet thread out hannibal getting his trolltag and device, but he will, and here they all are...]]

(no subject)

[makesthings]

A useful part of being in a kingdom that has faced a great many threats over the years is that the armory in Belisaere is well organized. He's spent the last few days deep in it because he has an idea about the scale armor that everyone wears but needs to find some early examples in it. Milliways appears instead of the door to another area like he was expecting and he smiles, he could do with some food and a rest.

Since its always best to be safe and there's a dinner later, he's in his surcoat with his sword by his side though his surcoat has picked up some dust and flaking rust. At the counter, he sits down to order some spiced wine and bread and cheese before turning around to see if anyone he knows is around.

Time isn't a river; it's a big freakin' buffalo herd.

[forgoodorforawesome]

A half-attentive observer could be forgiven for initially thinking Strong Bad and The Cheat have finally found a way to get the third On Point King inna bar. However, comma, once they paid the balance of the attention due, they'd realize that this big guy is wearing more and different-colored clothes, and has a head that doesn't basically grow beneath his shoulders.

"C'mon, big man!" Strong Bad is dragging Ralph by the hand with surprising if cartoonish vigor. "It's my nine-eth Milliversary! This calls for a karaoke-bration!"

Ralph looks a little nervous. "I don't know about this. There's a reason I don't go to DDR that often."

"You worry too much." And then, before anyone can stop them, they're up on the stage, and Strong Bad has picked up the mike.

( Gotta dance... )

When the song is done and the machine lets them go, they retreat to a table with sheepish expressions. Maybe you can catch them there.

[OOC: Three pups, one mun, tag anyone! Or just stare dumbfounded, whatevs! Open at least until it scrolls or aberrantangels runs out of spoons!]

(no subject)

[nitro_is_ace]

The front door opens to admit an Ace - a filthy one in search of a drink after a day of helping add space to the goat pens - setting posts and railings and keeping up with two hard-working werewolves is enough to make for a really long day. She settles onto a barstool and folds her arms on the bar, her heavy watch clunking against the wood.

"Hard cider, all of it, all night long."