(no subject)

[pro_patria_mortuus]

[OOM: Shortly after Combeferre's arrival, more or less at the same time as a certain Weird Talky Argument, Enjolras and Combeferre catch up a little more upstairs. Before too long, they're joined by other friends as well.]

(What's that, you say? Combeferre's arrival was some days before the talky argument's impetus? NONSENSE LA LA LA MILLITIME, okay? Okay.)

(no subject)

[redintheledger]

It's been A Day.

Or, to be more accurate, A Night. When Agent Romanoff had requested a transfer into Linguistics, she'd been under the - clearly mistaken - impression that her days would be filled with languages, not lock picks and lasers. Laser beams. Not guns. Stark still can't get those working.

(She wouldn't object to a lightsaber, though.)

When she walks into Milliways, she's wearing civvies and she's in the process of unpinning her hair. That Milliways appears makes her pause, but only for a moment. Chocolate. Dinner. Possibly some beer, because sure, she can't get drunk, but she appreciates the taste.

If anything, she glances longer at her gauntlets before shrugging. They are mostly hidden by her yellow leather jacket and this is Milliways. They aren't even the close to being the weirdest thing someone has worn.

(Today's earrings: none. Yesterday's had a tricky clasp she couldn't be bothered fiddling with and the piercings can survive until she gets home.)

She strolls over to the Bar, orders a spiked hot chocolate from Molly, and then moves off into the bar-proper towards the fireplace. She doesn't sit on the couch – too much of invitation for people to talk to her – but claims a nearby table where she can still watch the fish.

Well.

The intent was to claim the table. In practice, she has to straighten the damn thing and brush off a chair and then straighten the rest of the chairs...

[ooc: Main thread is plotlocked, but feel free to post reactions here if you want!]

(no subject)

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Out of Milliways: "You want to die? Take my advice. Turn around and go the way you came. I'll give you a map to Charm City. Just walk into the EZ and wait. It'll hurt less."

Dogmeat dashes through the door first; Ellen clanks through behind him in her power armor. "Oh," she says when she sees where she is. "Huh boy."

This keeps happening. Must be something about Philly.

"Bar, I need to go put on some clothes instead of this gear. Can you have a- I don't know, whiskey would be nice- waiting when I get back?"

Bar will, because bar is good that way. Also there will be dog food, because Bar knows Ellen's companion pretty much never stops eating.

Ellen's just tired, not antisocial. Feel free to say hi once she's in her Brotherhood green uniform again.

(no subject)

[hecu_marine]

Long day. Lot of work on the ship. Lot of work at the Greenbrier. Lot of shit still going on that needs attention.

Fuck that. Shephard wants dinner and he doesn't want his job finding him while he's eating. So he's here.

As long as you're not about to tell him about something in need of engineer attention aboard Borealis, he's botherable.

(no subject)

[electro_kinetic]

There is a Noriko coming into the bar today, wet and cold and faintly eugh-feeling as she sets down the bag from over her shoulder, contents clinking gently. It's raining and near freezing out there, though the abundance of tiny lights on everything makes it a bit more cheerful, or at least shinier.

So in the thankfully dry bar she's sitting with a bowl of ramen and very hot tea, and is lazily twirling a sugar snowflake from her fingers via the ribbon hanging loop. Once she's warm, feel free to bother her; she'll be in the middle of making a sort of wreath, a gift for a friend. She's pretty damn good at wrapping boxes fast, and efficiently, though she doesn't do it the way most westerners are accustomed to putting paper around boxes. But, hey, she's approachable enough.

[ brought to you by a mun who is having to gift-wrap a lot of boxes ]

(no subject)

[vance_prime]

On the couch by the fireplace, we find a mother and her two toddlers. Said toddlers are listening with rapt attention as their mother reads to them from a certain Dr. Seuss book.

"...'Why, my sweet little tot,' the fake Santy Claus lied,
'There's a light on this tree that won't light on one side.
So I'm taking it home to my workshop, my dear.
I'll fix it up there. Then I'll bring it back here.' "

The son speaks up. "Y' don't gotta take the whole tree just t' fix one light bulb!"

"Of course not," says the mother. "But the Grinch is hoping that CindyLou doesn't know that."

"I did," he points out. "An' I'm the same age as her!"

"Well, honey, not every two-year-old has already learned how a parallel circuit works."

The daughter rolls her eyes and makes a 'tsk' noise. "That's just dumb."

Two pups, two muns

[cook_the_rude]

Today, Dr. Hannibal Lecter and a ten-year-old redhead known to be a younger version of Milliways' favourite baker are busy in the kitchen, making ice cream.

It's a slightly unusual kind, and involves grinding up gingerbread.

(no subject)

[halfemptyglasses]

At some point, Mirai wanders down to the bar with some notes in hand.

( Those who left gifts to Mirai )

She gives them to the bar to await their recipients, resting her arm warmer-clad palm on the surface a moment. Then she retreats to the stairs, looking forward to a quiet night in.

(no subject)

[is_the_motion]

[oom: When you first took my hand
On a cold Christmas Eve

Warnings for underage drinking and soppy teenagers]