(no subject)

[onceholyknight]

"Molly?" Michael opens the door, glances up to see what's on the other side, and decides to finish his call before he steps in. "Molly, I know you've been listening to these messages. Call home, please, the Jawas miss you."

That done, he heads for his favourite place by the fire.

(no subject)

[never_shall_yield]

 

November
(16th)

(no subject)

[onceaviking]

Eric is getting ready to go back.
Soon.
Soonish.

One of the things he needs to do is easily taken care of. He wants an extra layer of security installed at his house, to protect the sleeping area in the basement.

In case it's needed. Later.
For Pam.

So he comes downstairs, heads for the bar, and drops a wad of bills on the counter, asking to have it put into Jay's account. It's a thin wad. That's the beauty of large bills.

Then he settles on a barstool and orders a bottle of TruBlood. He can't be bothered with glasses and bags tonight.


{ooc: instaslows, open to all}

~sunday bartending~

[hadyougoing]

What does Ava know about Hannibal Lecter?

She knows he killed at least 14 people, sent the FBI Beverly's fingers to make it look like she was dead, and got a guy locked up in an insane asylum. He's a psychiatrist. He likes cooking and nice wines. (He's a cannibal.) He used to come here, six or eight years ago, but it might've been from some point later in time than ... now. Eric seems to want him dead, or at least maimed.

... It's not nothing.

But it also doesn't feel like enough.

After her library shift, Ava decides that there's no better means of gathering information than being the girl handing out drinks, so she sidles up to the Bar.

"Heyyy there, I was wondering if there's any chance ... really? Awesome."

Therefore, this afternoon and early evening, Ava's behind the Bar in a jacket and blue v-neck. She sets out a tip jar and puts the finishing touches on her sign:

Happy Hour Specials

Apple-Brandy Hot Toddy (hot water, apple brandy, honey, lemon)
Pumpkin Martini (vanilla vodka, cream liqueur, pumpkin liqueur)
Bourbon & Ginger Ale (bourbon, ginger ale, whiskey, bitters)

Don't forget to tip your bartender!

[ooc: Hey friends and fiends, SURPRISE BARTENDING! Post is open until either it scrolls or I say die, whichever comes first. Please direct any questions, plotting, schemes, and dreams to artistformerlyknownas at gmail dot com.]

(no subject)

[gredya]

Gredya has another task now from the people at home--oh, they say it is a favor, not something they demand, but it is still another thing to do. Reading lessons. Helping the young man Joly with his map in the forest. Carrying on conversations that get dropped and picked up as she sees people here now and then. Teaching the children. Establishing a winter territory at home. Keeping everyone fed. Reporting on the weather at Milliways, the mapping, the people who come and go, this and that and every little thing.

So today, besides her reading lesson, Gredya is here to take pictures. One of the university people brought the thing, shiny metal, a digital camera. Many instructions. How to press this button, how to put another battery in if a certain light goes on. Take pictures of this, of that. Don't let the children play with it, it's not a toy. Thank you, Gredya.

The children want to play with it. Eventually she tells them to go inside, or go off into the woods--anywhere that isn't underfoot.


--

Once his brother and sisters are busy with a frisbee, Karel slips inside and begins asking the magical bar for things. A strong bag. Food in cans. The thing that opens cans. A gun. No? Bar doesn't do that? Fine, fine. More food in cans.


((Gredya and co. are botherable, inside or out!))

(no subject)

[myshootingstar]

Minx inches her way down to the bar, leaning heavily on a pair of crutches. There’s a brace around her upper right thigh. She doesn’t look her normal cheerful self – wearing dowdy clothes and no make-up.

She flops carefully onto the couch, setting her crutches aside. She flags down a passing rat for some water. It’s time to take more painkillers and it can’t come soon enough.

(no subject)

[witchfinder_general]

After the service today, Father Harman is sitting by the fireplace, reading what can only be described as 'an ancient tome'.

There is a pot of tea on the table, and he will certainly offer some to people who come to talk to him.

(no subject)

[fluffiest_archadian]

[OOM: Riots and wedding preparations.]

"... Forgive me, miss, I will return shortly."

Sherral is a bit sweaty when he enters the bar today. Like he's been training. But he hasn't been training: He doesn't have his swords, and those are not shoes you would use for combat training.

Those are dancing shoes.

(It's - it's mandatory for officers of the Empire.)

He glances at the door, then back at the bar, as if weighing up the pros and cons. Then he adjusts his tunic slightly and heads for the bar, because he's pretty confident nobody is going to be looking at his feet. He should be fine.