(no subject)

[iambetadraconis]

What do wizards do after hours when most people go to bed?

Sit and knit while watching some B movie on the television, of course.

Join him. He's got popcorn and the knitting is surprisingly good after all that practise.

Think it might be a scarf...

~~~~~~~~~~~

Listening to the sounds of the television is not helpful for trend-setting fashionistas.

No matter how she focuses, she can't block out the sound, and it's causing her to lose focus over her latest designs.

Come on now.

If you want to be ahead of next season's trends you need a little quiet is kinda important.

Turn it down, whoever you are...


~~~~~~~~~~~

[Tag at leisure.]

[Tiny glamorous tag: Rarity.]

(ch-ch-ch-chia)

[scarred_grin]

[it doesn't grow overnight, you know.]

That's not some lazy attempt at reviving the Davy Crockett coonskin-cap fad, right there. No, it's just Egil getting a little camouflage practice in (not very successfully, to be honest, but he's trying). Which explains Loki's pageant-queen posture today instead of his usual slouch, as he loiters outside his latest project.

There's a temporary partition set up around a table, a partition covered in lurid sideshow-style artwork proclaiming Secrets of the Universe REVEALED.

It's free, so you can't get less than you paid for. You might even get more.

(no subject)

[humanliedetector]

It had been a while since Jinks had been in Bar. It was business as usual in the ATF field and this time, Bar opened a door when Steve was returning from such fieldwork. He walked through and it took him a moment or two to realize where he was but he didn't make a fuss. He shrugged and headed up to Bar to order a soda and as it appeared in front of him, he took a sip and sighed. At least this place was, relatively, peaceful. There was nothing like dealing with alcohol and firearms, especially when they ended up together. Tobacco? Routine but when people get drunk with weaponry, things tend to get interesting. After that first sip, Steve found himself a table and sat back for a moment.

Multipup EP, Burnout Edition

[vance_prime]

It has, apparently, been One Of Those Days across the multiverse. In its aftermath, we find several people in Milliways trying to unwind.

Alyx Vance is seated in a corner booth with a beer in one hand and a screwdriver in the other, taking apart a graphing calculator.

Twilight Sparkle is seated on the floor by the fireplace with a plate of cookies and a light historical novel.

And Vanellope von Schweetz has faceplanted on the couch and is snoring lightly.

They are all botherable, if you dare.

[tinytag: Ibani]

(no subject)

[patterns_bloom]

Alana Bloom thought that a change of scenery would keep her from fretting about Will's state in the hospital.

She was wrong.

Still, the bar was just different enough to get her work done. And the frappes aren't half bad, either. Catch her at a table up to her elbows in case reviews.

(no subject)

[works_in_space]

Jim Kirk enters the Bar in civvies.  Yes, the colors are more or less the same as his uniform, but the cut is very different.  To a 23rd century Terran, that would be very clear.  And after three months dressing like this more often than not, Jim is still not used to it.  He misses the uniform.  He misses the ship.  He misses everything about being in the fleet.  And while officially he's merely on detached service, he knows what that really means.

He takes a seat at the bar, orders a coffee, and asks if there's anything good to read today.

(no subject)

[acts_of_gord]

It's awfully busy back at the Greenbrier. Gordon's taken the opportunity to get little Eli out of his mother's hair. He'd meant to take him somewhere out of the way in the complex itself, but Milliways showed up, so-

"One winter morning, Peter woke up and looked out the window. Snow had fallen..."

-there is a one-eyed, battle-scarred physicist with a crowbar on his belt, seated by the fireplace reading Ezra Jack Keats' The Snowy Day to the dark-skinned, reddish-haired toddler on his lap.

Not that he couldn't be interrupted, if someone else wanted to talk. Just give them a heads-up first.

(no subject)

[flip_the_lights]

They found another one of the Cortexiphan kids this week: Simon Phillips. He wasn't in Olivia's "class"; he took part in the Wooster trials several states over, and was kicked out after his primary skill turned toward mind reading.

Olivia was the first person he'd met in twenty years who could enter his house and not start a cacophony. Two decades of uncontrolled telepathy, with the Cortexiphan in Olivia's body -- how it triggered a barrier to her thoughts, one Simon couldn't cross for whatever reason -- offering him the only relief.

Two decades of living in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, because otherwise, he'd go completely insane from the noise.

Now, she's at a table with a glass of whiskey, studying it with more care than strictly necessary. Her problem, she thinks, has always been finding the so-called "on" switch -- never in turning it off again. Maybe it's time to explore the benefits of both.