milliways_bar | Entries tagged with joly

Guppy is at the bar, with a cup of tea, a banana, and the evening crossword:

Humorous mammal lacking a meat patty with cheese in a bun (6)

Botherable

tire_moi_mes_bottes

((After Valjean's rescue, Joly comes home and talks it over a bit with Bossuet. They decide to invite Marius to breakfast. As usual, making conversation with Marius Pontmercy is an uphill battle.))

never_shall_yield

After the events of the other evening, Javert took himself off to his room and slept for the best part of two days. The only thing he asked before heading upstairs was that he be informed if Valjean died.

There has been no message, and on coming down today Bar tells him that the man lives yet. So he nods, and eats breakfast and goes outside. He exercises the stallion. Then he goes out to the woods and spends the entire day woodworking pews for the church, in his shirtsleeves despite the chill, looking the closest to relaxed he has in years.

When it gets dark he's in the bar, idly sketching over glass with stick of wax, a book and a cup of coffee at his elbow. He looks more untidy than usual; his collar is not fastened, and there is mud on his trousers. But for once there is no sign of anger, animosity or distress. For the first time in a long time, he is genuinely unconcerned about interruptions.

[OOC: Catch him anywhere. Open for the rest of the week!]

souffle_girlek

So... Oswin has a problem.

Oswin has two cats.

Oswin actually only has one cat, she's watching the other cat for Autor, but... he hasn't been back for his cat yet.

It's been ~~ages~~ weeks. ~~Ages~~ weeks without his cat. Autor wouldn't abandon ~~her~~ his cat like that.

This would be why there's an Oswin searching through the barroom, looking for any sign of an errant boy.

never_shall_yield

Javert enters the bar tonight with a thoroughly preoccupied air. His step falters when he realises where he is, but it does not matter. He can contemplate Jean Valjean's distressing behaviour here as well as anywhere else, and at least he will not have to endure the neighbours complaining about his pacing around all night.

He takes a bottle of brandy from the bar, and some cold meat and bread, and retires to his usual secluded booth. But he does not look settled, nor easy in his thoughts; he frequently rises to walk in circles, muttering under his breath. The occasional damn you can be heard, and anyone listening might deduce that there is something more than anger in the curse.

a1enzo

On the 10th, Enzo began his new holiday season by celebrating Ada Lovelace's birthday. Today, he is concluding it with Charles Babbage's.

Join him, if you will, at a table covered with gear-shaped cookies, cupcakes with gear-and-hex-nut-shaped sprinkles, and construction toys.

never_promised

On the other side of Hal's door, there's London, and a dying king. His dying king; his dying father. On this side of the door, there's--well, what is there? People to scold him for drunkenness just as at home; a friendship with Viola that's on the verge of growing just a little too complicated; a truce of sorts with Hotspur, also complicated. And, it turns out, no refuge from politics even among his fellow libertines.

Distinctly lacking on this side of the door is any real escape from London, and a dying king.

He's thrown a few things into a leather bag, and is paying out his tab, when a napkin-note appears on the Bar. What? Really? Well--it's not a bad idea.

Hal asks the bar for music, scrawls a hasty sign up behind the bar and settles in to one last bit of fun:

A most happy hour
Beer and sack GRATIS

Hey everyone, party on Prince Hal's tab!

((So, the time has come to bump Hal forward a little in canon and he's throwing a party before he goes. Thread-hopping encouraged! He's going to be slipping out at the end, but he'll be back in Milliways again soon...as Henry V.))

((Aaah, sorry for being so slow today, somehow it's just a very...low-energy day over here. But it's still open! I'm tagging back, just slow.))

a1enzo

Enzo has his guitar with him today. He's fingering with his left hand, but his right is unoccupied save for eating the occasional paradox.

"Okay, Minus, strum!"

The little chatilus eagerly extends its tentacles to pluck at the strings. Let's see if they can get anything like music out of this.

outsideInterface is signed on.

no_more_hiding

[OOM: Hank succeeds in his life long dream (however briefly) but fails at seeing beyond it to Raven's feelings.]

The front doors are thrown open and a furry man stumbles in. His clothes are torn and split, his blue fur matted with sweat, and his body is spasming with muscle cramps and small seizures. He makes it a few more steps in, blinking rapidly at his surroundings, before a large seizure sends him careening into a table, smashing it and sending chairs flying.

He's obviously had better days.

[OOC: Sorry, plot locked. But Hank will have an Infirmary threads as well as an EP or two next week. If you'd like, reaction as welcome, please just wait until after the first response team tags in. For those helping with this, tag in when you can. No rush.]

harryhotspur

[oom: Hotspur and Hal run into each other once again, but conversation takes a rather dramatic turn towards the past, and they finally vent their frustrations. This necessitates a trip to the infirmary, where Joly is probably kinder than they deserve. At last, first Harry and Hal and then Harry and Feuilly inch a liiiittle closer to articulating what exactly they are to each other.

Warning for (not super graphic) descriptions of fighting and injuries, mention of blood, and 15th-century usages of the word "love."]

lark_in_flight

Cosette enters with a brief look of satisfaction: today she came to Milliways on purpose, rather than by surprise, and that's much more pleasant in her opinion. (Not that Milliways isn't a pleasant surprise, of course, but it's nicer when one has a say in one's destination.)

She consults with Bar and receives a pot of tea, along with an unasked-for second cup and a plate of light and lemony cookies. Cosette laughs. "I see! You want me to be social, is that it? Very well, of course I will."

Accordingly she settles down at a table with a few extra chairs. But until someone presents themselves for conversation, she'll be writing on some scraps of paper she's drawn from her reticule, and drinking her own up of tea -- and occasionally glancing cheerfully around the room, to make sure she doesn't miss anyone she'd like to say hello to.

[OOC: Mun is going to sleep -- slowtime on all threads, please! And I'm sorry to do this, but no new threads, please; I'm traveling this weekend and won't really have time to pick up more.]

herr_bookman

Evening mist rises off the lake as a bonfire roars on the beach near the Caribbean inlet. A portable dance floor is set up near it, shined to perfection. A food table groans with the weight of various finger-foods, and music from a stereo system set off to the side blares through the night with a musical selection so varied that--as ever, in Milliways--you never know what's going to happen next.

[OOC: Millitimed to this evening. Thanks to Saph for helping with the setup. Open forever.]

merryeccentricities

The door to the Bar slams open to reveal what looks like Thor wincing in apology.

Joly is really not getting the hang of being Asgardian. But he probably has to eat. He manages to get food (in Thor-proof dishes, thank you Madame Bar) and manages to very, very carefully sit down without destroying anything else. He stares at the food for a moment and lets out a sigh he doesn't mean to be so very loud and dramatic. But everything is so big and dramatic in this body!

Bahorel is entirely used to the big and dramatic, (but has managed to make do with the considerably smaller canvas of Feuilly's body by experimentation with body paint and temporary hair dye; he's currently covered in a swirl of red and gold flames against black under the rather piratical outfit he's gathered together, and yes, that is an earring) and very used to all his friends' varying levels of Sigh. Getting out of (and indeed, into) the rafters is differently tricky in Feuilly's body, but he's still back on the ground and teasing Joly in no time.

A few dirty jokes and a borrowed (and somewhat reinforced) computer tablet later, and two somewhat out of place Frenchmen are watching random internet videos of variable plausibility. Extremely botherable.

((OOC: Still probably a little slowtimes, but last- minute Bodyswap thread by request, two pups, one mun, ask for the one(s) you want or get either! ETA: off for a bit, I'll tag back in the morning! )

merryeccentricities

There are frogs in the bar tonight. Frogs of, apparently, some sort of vague royal affiliation, to judge by the cartoonish but definitely golden crowns on their head, to their mutual amphibious dismay.

Which is to say, Bossuet and Joly are frogs for Halloween.

(two pups, two muns, ask for either or both! Warning for potential frog puns.)

Current Mood: silly

tire_moi_mes_bottes

Schlup-schlorp.

Schlllllup-schlorp.

Groan.

Drip.

Groan.

What figure is this that comes stalking into the bar, dark with mud, streaming pond-weed from its long lanky limbs, leaving black mucky footprints, snorting and moaning incoherently? What hideous monster has Halloween brought in today, come up from the Lake? What brings this whiff of stale deep water and dread?

...Yeah, sorry, it's just Lesgle. He got a little wet. Anyone have a towel and a hot brandy?

((EDIT: As of now, Lesgle can be found UP HERE with Joly. Rrrribbit!))

harryhotspur

[Anglo-French relations continue to improve (with one thread still in progress!) while Harry is in the cells for that whole Javert incident.

But even the kindest visitors can't keep Hotspur from making terrible decisions, and he is unable to resist unearthing some 600-year-old spoilers: namely, that he didn't survive that last battle.

He and Feuilly then navigate the turbulent emotional waters with their usual eloquence and grace.]

merryeccentricities

Joly is outside, away from the woods, away from the lake, walking where there's as much open sky and ground as he can get. He's mostly looking up. If he's not entirely as cheerful as he usually is, possibly it's because he's not looking up at the sky as much as he'd like; the little machine he keeps sending flying does seem intent on cooperating with gravity. Still, the occasional grumble is hardly forbidding, and for the most part he's having fun out in the clear day.

...Even if the little four-winged machine did just crash again.

((OOC: Slowtimes for a while, but still open!))

tire_moi_mes_bottes

((Joly and Lesgle wake up after AU Week, try to sort it all out, and also remember that they had been--gasp--Talking About Their Relationship.))

pro_patria_mortuus

[OOM: The day after AU week ends, the now-daemonless Enjolras and Combeferre discuss their counterparts.

...Okay, mostly they discuss France. And spreadsheets. But also their AU counterparts!]

tire_moi_mes_bottes

((July 14th: Joly and Lesgle talk, and come to the astonishing realization that after living together and sleeping together for four years, dying together and then moving right back in together to carry on the same, adopting cats together--they might in fact be what you future people call in a committed relationship. Maybe even...going steady?

Also grass is green and water is wet, but these guys are tragically limited by their early-19th-century bourgeois upbringing and only know how to talk in subtext. Baby steps.))

merryeccentricities

Joly managed to get a cold after the barricades; of course he did, staying out for three straight days in all weather, it's a wonder everyone in the fight didn't end up with bronchitis or pneumonia or cholera or some new and exciting disease brought about by very bad sleeping habits. Tocsin fever! He could write a paper.

Instead they've just wound up with another dratted-- another damn king. And Joly has a cold. Which is not going to turn into pneumonia, because he has his door to Milliways, and all its fine medicine, and he's recovering very nicely and absolutely not thinking about chronic diseases and fevers and recurrent plagues in any sort of metaphorical political way at all.

What he is doing is curling up on a couch in the main Bar, now that he's not contagious anymore--not even sick anymore, really, just a little worn out, however much Alcmaeon frets-- and drinking hot tea, and playing a game on one of the computer tablets Madame Bar sometimes lets him borrow. It's about finding the right parts for spaceships. It's very scientifically accurate for some universe. His daemon Alcmaeon is mostly alternating between fussing at him, and dozing off over the teacups. They're not contagious, and both very willing to have company, or they'd be in their room like sensible people and their daemons.

[[AU week! Joly's currently from a Daemonverse, and also not dead; more details here. His daemon is a great tit, and yes, he's heard all the jokes.]]

2goodarms

Eighteen years of tight quarters led to some changes in basic biology. Everybody below the age of thirty settled as something small, compact, easy to keep close. People around Curtis’ age usually had something a little bigger: malleable enough to re-settle, just hardened enough not to venture too far from their original shape. A few people who were too old — too set in their ways, even after what the train did to them — ended up dying from the stress, unable to keep their outsize daemon from being touched so many times a day. Nobody had anything much bigger than a dog anymore.

And nobody’s daemon could ever get more than a foot or two away from them without feeling the strain of separation.

But, like Dejah’s fond of telling Curtis, he’s not on the train anymore. He remembers people whose links could extend almost the full width of a car. Joanna thinks it’s a shitty idea, but it’s just a test, he keeps reassuring her. It’s just another muscle to build up.

So, by the fire, Curtis hunches in an armchair with his eyes fixed on the honey badger next to his feet. Slowly, Joanna places one clawed foot in front of other other, inching forward against the pressure of their link.

They can do this. They’ve endured worse hurts.

[ooc: keeping it simple for AU week: daemons! Everything else about Curtis' background remains the same. Mun will be sporadic until about 10 PM ET, then around solidly until 11:30ish; post is open until I say it's not.]

road_to_calvary

...this isn't his bedroom. Jean Valjean - dressed in shorts and a muscle T, covered in sweat - rubs a towel over his face, and blinks quite a lot. Then he sticks his head back through the door, and yells, 'Javert!'

'What?'

'Come look.'

Javert - mussed hair, jeans, sullen expression, a scar around his neck - slopes through the door. He also blinks a lot, and doesn't stop the door closing behind them. While Valjean spends his time staring about, his eyes fall on the leaflets nearby. He picks one up, reads it, then touches Valjean's arm to get his attention.

'Here.'

A couple of minutes later, they're staring at each other. Javert shakes his head. Valjean nods, and stretches for the door handle...which won't open. His eyes go wide as he tugs on it, and Javert has to take his wrist to stop him trying to wrench his way out.

'It's OK. We'll just get a drink and wait for it to open. It says here that it will. OK?'

'...OK.'

And so there's two wary young guys at the bar, eyeing drinks suspiciously. Well, Valjean is. Javert is eyeing Valjean, because...well. Just because.

[OOC: AU guys, obviously! Write-up on their background here. You can pretty much do what you want with them, they're only here for a week. This is open until whenever, and they'll each get an independent EP at some point. \o/]

vive_lavenir

Jehan Prouvaire and Combeferre walk into the bar, but they're not exactly walking in together. Jehan's a few steps ahead, and every so often he lets out a huffy snort.

Combeferre, for his part, looks amused, indulgent, and exasperated, all at the same time. He's looking in Jehan's direction and shaking his head slightly. An observer might conclude the two of them have just had some kind of a spat. Combeferre sits down at a table, asks a wait-rat for "dinner," and receives pasta. He's eating distractedly while reading a book about evolution.

Jehan walks up and asks Bar for a cup of coffee. Bar gives it to him spiked with some sort of creamy liqueur, which Jehan sniffs at and smiles in approval. He sits down at a table far away from Combeferre. Pointedly not looking at Combeferre, Jehan lights an incense stick and says, out loud, "This is for Djehuty." He leaves the incense burning while he sips his coffee and scribbles on a notepad.

They're both highly botherable.

ooc: Say which one you want, or get whichever one I feel like sending! Now on slowtimes, on and off.

street_sparrow

Gavroche pops in and leaves an invitation to a gathering at the House of Arch for Les Amis - and Eponine, if she wants to come, though he knows how she feels about marking that day. He'll be around to take them through when they appear.

[ooc: sorry for the delay, everyone! Tag at will.]