(no subject)

[neverbelievedintheend]

Searching the garage has gone on quite long enough, as far as Stacker is concerned. He's found Jaegers, and there are probably more down there, but for now he needs to start planning for making proper use of those machines. Which means, eventually, looking for pilots- but he's seen what passes for a gym here, and he's going to need better facilities first.

Assuming he can find the right person to talk to about that, anyway.

(no subject)

[garde723]

[OOM: Izana explores. Izana discovers. Izana is pleased.]

Izana approaches the Bar from the direction of the elevators with an air of purpose and likely a small cloud of dust.

"Bar-san," they say respectfully once they reach it. "I require a broom, a mop, two buckets of warm water--one soapy, an apron, a pair of dust sleeves, and two head scarves, if you please."

Bar apparently pleases, as the requested items appear. "Thank you," Izanna adds with a smile as they put the apron and the dust sleeves over their uniform, and tie one of the head scarves over their hair and the other is tied to cover their mouth. That done, they collect the buckets, broom and mop, and head back the direct they came.

Soon enough, for any who don't follow, the sounds of cleaning and scrubbing can be heard from a room over by the elevators, as well as a hummed song.

[OOC: The return of the Simulator room is mod approved. See this back room post if you have any questions.]

(no subject)

[gods_that_haunt_me]

It's been a while since Floki came in here on his own two feet.

During that time, he's been recovering from his battle wounds fairly well. Most of his cuts and bruises are fading, and thanks to Dr. Sandhu and the bone fuser, his right arm is completely healed, but he still uses a sling to remind himself that it should still be injured back home. However, his sides still ache, which is why he uses the staff to walk, and the bandages are still wrapped tight around his middle.

But now, dressed in the Viking equivalent of pajamas and a bathrobe, Floki shuffles over to the bar in bare feet and orders some chicken. A roast chicken. A whole one.

What? He's hungry.

A whole roast chicken appears on the countertop along with a short knife. Floki sits on a stool, leans the staff against the bar, and carefully slips his arm out of the sling, before tucking into the chicken like a man who hasn't eaten solid food in a really long while.

(no subject)

[pro_patria_mortuus]

It's a fairly common sight: Enjolras, at a table in the main bar, with a book and pen and paper. The change from mourning black clothes to a newer suit in unremarkable colors -- trousers of dark beige, coat of dark blue, waistcoat of green -- is recent, but even that it isn't brand new. His look of slightly frustrated absorption isn't too unusual, either, though there's a subtly different tenor to it than often.

The book, however, isn't a tome of history or political theory or biography. It is, instead, a primer on beginning English. And the notes he's taking are sentences.

The boy goes to school.

I am going to the store.

I am short. He is tall. You are not so tall. That child will be tall when he is grown.

The entire exercise makes him feel like a schoolboy again. But so be it; so far as English skill is concerned, he might as well be a child in skirts. And English's irregular verbs -- well, many aspects of English, to be frank -- are proving recalcitrant. Rote repetition of sentences featured heavily in his childhood studies of Latin and Greek, so it ought to help.

He's met Englishmen who thought French verbs were confusing. He used to have more sympathy for them. Now, he doesn't understand how they could possibly think French is hard.

Viking bartending

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Today, Ragnar Lothbrok comes in and makes straight for the bar. Life is full of trouble at home, and moreover, he's thirsty.

Instead of a drink, he gets a napkin.

"Athelstan?"

He looks around, hoping that his little monk is somewhere around and can help.

If he's to sell people drinks (which is what the napkin means, after all) he needs help from somebody who can tell what's written on the bottle!

***

After brief discussion, the specials board now says, in a neat insular half-uncial script from early medieval times:

Free mead -- for a story about a voyage
Free wine -- for a story about a celebration
Free ale -- for a funny and embarrassing story about yourself
Free apple juice -- for a story about your childhood

So it's both Athelstan and Ragnar behind the bar, ready to come and get you a drink, and listen to your story.


[[OOC: Two muns, two charries -- you'll most likely get both, unless you just want one of them and say so!]]

(no subject)

[not_the_cavalry]

The woman who walks into the bar has been here before.

Once.

Melinda surveys her surroundings for a long moment. She's in a clean pressed pant suit, but is holding herself carefully. It's been a long time since she was this bruised, even if all the evidence is hidden.

Then her mouth lifts slightly, and she moves towards the Bar. She's not going to turn down inexplicable alcohol.

[please see this post for details on Melinda's body language and appearance. Thanks!

Update: Closed to new threads, unless we've already arranged it. <3 I'll try to keep up with tagging!]

(no subject)

[is_the_motion]

[oom: Testing the water]