(no subject)

[iprotectyou]

(OOM: Red: the blood of angry men.)

"You don't think an electric saw would be cheating? I think it would be. You're entitled to your own opinion, but..." Baze says to Bar, clearly in the midst of an argument with her. She provides a pointed refill of his water glass, and he takes the hint and drinks some.

A napkin pops up on her mahogany surface. Baze reads it and scowls.

"What do you mean you 'don't trust my muscles'? They're excellent muscles, I've worked very hard to earn them."

Another napkin.

"Just because I haven't eaten much lately doesn't mean--Fasting is a part of it! No, I am not going to pass out in the forest. I think you're just resentful that you don't get to feed me much anymore," Baze says, folding his arms and ignoring the water again.

Yet another napkin.

"You're right. I'm sorry. Just give me the manual saw. I'll use an electric one to trim the branches, I promise. Come on, Bar."

(no subject)

[cottoncandypink]

It's quiet this evening, like it is most evenings. Until the door opens.

No, not that door. The back door. And it doesn't immediately open. There's a good thirty seconds of frantic scraping and rattling around before whoever is on the other side manages to convince it to open through sheer determination.

It is not a person who walks through, but a dog with a stick. And it's not so much a stick, as it is a 20-foot tree branch dragging snow and mud and all manner of other muck behind it as Buster wrestles it through the door. It's his new favourite stick! He wants to take it home!

His human has other ideas, as he can be heard shouting from the other side of the bar, "PUT IT BACK!"

(no subject)

[morethanprops]

Moist opens the door with a smile on his face that freezes slightly when he sees Milliways. Its been a while, then walks through, loosening the scarf at his neck. The Sto Plains are having a cold spell that he's not enjoying, it makes it harder to leave without questions.

He's in a tweed suit that's fraying a little at the edges as he walks to the counter and orders a hot toddy before leaning against the Bar to observe Milliways.

(no subject)

[nepetaleijon]

[Out back of Milliways, and/or elsewhere:

every time i caught you leaving]

(no subject)

[nepetaleijon]

Some time after this, there's a Nepeta in the bar.

Not in the rafters or perched on top of a booth wall, for a change. Tonight she's actually sitting in a booth, moodily ignoring the dregs of a hot cocoa to contemplate the object on the table in front of her: the hilt of a sword, attached to about a handspan of broken-off blade.

Botherable, but may hiss and/or claw if bothered too brusquely.