(no subject)

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*Bernard stands up from the angel's table, his face mottled with rage. His arm is smoking; there's a sizeable burn.*

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO MY BAR? WHO DID THIS?

Comments

[clumsy_auror]

*Tonks, looking none too pleased herself, takes hold of his arm*

Hold still! I've got to heal this!

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*as the tip of Tonks's wand touches his burn, Bernard flinches, but holds still*

Fuck.

[clumsy_auror]

*the burn quickly turns a shiny pink as the new skin grows over it*

Now that'll be tender for a bit. Try not to mess about with it. And don't go blowing anyone up over this, Bernard. Promise me.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*when he looks at her, his eyes a little mad*

They hurt. My bar.

[clumsy_auror]

*her expression is calm, but brooks no argument*

Yes, they did. And they're probably new here, and don't know how hurting the bar hurts you, too.

You can explain it to them. With yelling. But no dynamite.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*calms slightly*

It's locked away. I won't blast him.

[clumsy_auror]

*she nods curtly and crosses her arms*

All right, then. Here if you need me.

[timsbooks.livejournal.com]

*And Tim is there, in a flash, eyes a dark red as he scans the room, finally resting on the guy in the weird suit.*

That one Bernard....

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bring him to me.

[timsbooks.livejournal.com]

*Salutes, and storms down thread.*

[hectorxdelgado.livejournal.com]

Shipwreck watches the youngster roll up. What the hell? This was the goofiest damn bar he'd ever been in, and that included all of his stays over in San Fransisco.

[timsbooks.livejournal.com]

((Er... slighty unsure... but if we're moving it up here....))

Tim approaches the group, his eyes a glowing red and his ahir wreathed in flames. He smiles, pleasently, at Kirk.*

Excuse me sir, bar security. I need you to accompany me.

[joewithnoname.livejournal.com]

Joe turns to Shipwreck, who seems a little more at home in this damn place. More at home than the cowboy does anyway... he just got here. And he's in trouble. Typical.

"Do we go with Kirk or what?"

[hectorxdelgado.livejournal.com]

Shipwreck holds a hand out in front of Joe. "That guy's brass. He can handle himself." Shipwreck shrugs a little. That guy might be a little soft around the middle, but he was a sailor at heart. They could smell their own.

[v_knidh8er]

*A small trap door opens on the side of the bar. Five little orange men in overalls and carrying carpentry equipment emerge. The Littlest Loompa^tm bringing up the rear. As the taller four set about fixing the scorched chip in the bar, The Littlest Loompa^tm consoles and pets the bar, reassuring it that this will only hurt for a minute, and then it will be all better.

You'd be amazed at how much information can be conveyed with a single, "Oompa".*

[trekkienumber1.livejournal.com]

Kirk makes his way over, keeping his phaser behind his back just in case.

"I think," he starts, "I think that might have been me."

[timsbooks.livejournal.com]

*Follows silently behind Kirk, thens tops about three feet behidn, hands loose at his sides, ready to cast if the old guy gets unruly. He hurt the nar. Mothe humper should gain pain for that alone...*

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*he goes to grab Kirk's collar, but winces and stops, the inflamed, healing skin on his arm still agonizingly painful*

*his voice is deadly cold*

You're new here, I take it.

[trekkienumber1.livejournal.com]

Kirk pulls a Spock and lifts an eyebrow.

"Obviously."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*his hands slowly clench into fists as he speaks*

Has anyone explained the nature of the bar to you?

[trekkienumber1.livejournal.com]

"I just found a 'Milliway's bar' in my study. That is all I know. Kirk. Whom am I addressing?"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard Mickey Wrangle, head barman and manager.

*leans in close enough for Kirk to see the threat of fire in his eyes*

You see, Kirk, what you don't know is that the bar and I are linked metaphysically. The bar is me. What you do to the bar, you do to me. Similarly, what you do to me, you do to her.

*cocks an eyebrow*

Are we getting somewhere?

[clumsy_auror]

*puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and cocks an eyebrow at Kirk*

[stbethadettes]

Beth, intrigued by the commotion, backs herself into a corner booth nearby. She rests her chin on her hand and watches intently.

[hectorxdelgado.livejournal.com]

Shipwreck, while currently quite occupied with possibly inciting a riot, notes Beth in the corner and gives her a quick wink-and-grin before returning to a state of practiced surliness.