milliways_bar | Entries tagged with stephanie brown

After this:

Nobody asked me but here's my advice
To a young man or woman who's living this life
In a world gone to hell where nobody's safe
Do not go quietly unto your grave

alwaysroomforhope

In Kenya, it is not quite sunrise and Steph has just had a troubling conversation with Babs.

She looks at the phone in her hand, and sighs, stuffing it into her pocket and getting to her feet. Today's going to be busy, and she doesn't really feel up to it. Which means she probably needs to go and try to get a little more sleep.

But the door of the clay house she walks into does not lead to the inside of the clay house.

They do say that Miliways is there when people need it.

Among the noise and bright lights Steph goes almost unnoticed as she makes her way slowly over to the Bar, a short teenage girl in comfortable t-shirt and shorts, arms and legs and face spiderwebbed with pale red scarring. Steph presses both hands against the wood, more to stop them shaking than anything else. She remembers this. But she doesn't. But she does.

"Hi," she whispers, very quietly.

A napkin appears.

Steph stares at it.

It stares back.

"Well," she says, and smiles a little, tentatively. "Okay, then."

HAPPY HOUR
SPECIALS

Dance with a Dream
Amarula Cream, Coconut milk, Milk, Nutmeg, Ice

Sandbar Sleeper
Absolut Vodka, Bailey's irish cream, Kahlua, Frangelico, Milk, Ice

African Lullaby
Brandy, Triple sec, Anisette

It's all familiar, in the way that dreams can be.

Steph finishes writing up the specials and turns back to face the room at large, still not looking like she's entirely sure what's going on around her. She's just gonna go with the flow.

twiceahero.livejournal.com

Barbara rolls into the bar, and automatically looks around.

She spots a young blond woman behind the bar's massive length.

She swallows. And heads straight for the ladies' restroom where she looks around to make sure no one's there before taking a deep breath, leaning her head down into her lap, and beginning to laugh. And laugh and laugh. Until she starts crying in relief, the tears streaming down her cheeks almost unnoticed as she throws her head back.

"YES!"

[You're welcome to catch her if you're, you know, in the ladies'.

alwaysroomforhope

[OOM: Gotham City, several years ago. Steph is recovering. She's gonna be fine, probably, but she's worried about these - hallucinations? dreams? memories? Whatever they are.]

[previous: here. because, you know, not so good with the regular updates.]

slayer_fray

[Out of Milliways:

Ten days ago, Jason took Mel to meet - someone - in hospital]

alwaysroomforhope

[OOM: Six years ago and now and maybe fifteen years in someone's future too, in Gotham, a doctor who cares too much and a woman who cares more than she admits make some plans.]

raptorcanaria

[OOMs: Six years ago and now and three months ago and fifteen years in the future:

Dinah sits (sat, will sit) at a hospital bedside,
and receives (received, will receive) a caped visitor]

slayer_fray

[OOM: Gotham city. Six years ago and now and some time in the future and two centuries ago. Latecomers pick up the leftovers.]

Melaka is throwing and catching her Security badge in one hand as she opens the door into the bar with the other, holding it open with a wide grin for the young man in a domino mask and leather jacket she shows in.

"Home sweet..."

She scowls as she looks around the place, and at the snow outside. "...Jesu, if I missed Christmas I'm gonna skitz."

[OOC: 2 pups, 2 muns, 2 timezones. Tag one or both, but be prepared for slowtime past 10pm EST]

alwaysroomforhope

This is still happening.

And Babs took Steph out of the bar to visit it.

The Steph who left the bar had been dead for six years. But Babs took her back to just before that happened.

And -- well, sort of stopped it happening.

So ... well, she's alive, but now nobody's really sure what happened to the Steph who stayed in the bar for six years, or the time that passed after she died.

Or didn't die.

You know.

It's one of those sort of things.

alwaysroomforhope

[OOM: In Gotham, six years ago and right now and tomorrow, this is happening.]

Image-heavy. Warnings for torture.

alwaysroomforhope

Zombies are a dime a dozen on Hallowe'en, right? So of course someone had to wind up in bar looking - well, dead.

Steph just thinks this is in particularly bad taste.

And if anyone thinks looking like she's been dead six years - just because she happens to have been - is going to stop her doing her job, they've got another think coming.

Thus, the part of Security for the Hallowe'en graveyard shift will be played by a sixteen-year-old corpse - who looks really bloody grumpy about it. Couldn't she at least have been a sexy nurse or something, you know, traditional? Geez.

Starting fights will probably not be in your best interest.

This is the last entry before Significant Changes happen to Steph, and as such is open forever. Cheers.

twiceahero.livejournal.com

Barbara Gordon is in the bar.

Actually, Barbara Gordon has been in the bar for nearly a week.

This is a very strange occurrence as it usually doesn't take her more than a few hours to get antsy and head for the door where she can get back to saving the world.

Yet here she is, sitting at a table, actually eating real food instead of whatever's at hand. Her laptop is on the table, but she barely glances over at it.

Something must be wrong. Maybe... maybe she's waiting for someone? Or... something?

princeinexile

It's like a special engagement. The Midnight Showing. You know, that one time you get to see that one thing again? Maybe a rare showing of a cult favorite. It's always when you least expect it and rarely when you're ready (however you need to prepare) for it.

The Bar is like that. Zuko knows it. But he figured, a while ago, he was done with it. It had let him out into the world and it had not let him back in. He had left a student -- he had left friends and arguably, those who he could consider family. Sometimes he missed them; he missed the smell of loam and fur, bakeries that invoked a longing for a mother's touch, and dogs. After nearly two years away, he has tried to forget women with blonde hair (and the trouble they bring) and he's only been semi-successful.

But when once crown prince Zuko, now Fire Lord Zuko, at the tender age of eighteen, finds the door to his study has become the bar, he stands there, a bit dumbfounded. He is not what he was, standing in his long robes, hair done up in the queue of his station,the golden flame of the fire nation set into the knot. A lot has changed in the last couple of years for one young man. Not enough, though, that he doesn't remember something simple, something like home.

"Just a smoking mountain, Bar," he says as he approaches, and settles in to stare across a crowd that he recognizes some, doesn't others.

It has been a long time, hasn't it?

[A limited engagement showing of one Fire Lord Zuko, post animated series, after a very long absence of bar, in honor of the ATLA movie being universally loathsome. Get him while he's hotter then Dev Patel, people. You won't get another opportunity anytime soon!

CLOSED TO NEW TAGS. Thanks for the warm reception!

Tiny Tag Totally Like Aang: NARUTO]

alwaysroomforhope

It's the dead of the night and hardly anyone is around!

Except that in Milliways, that never means it's particularly safe. So Security is watching out for you! Don't break rules! Be careful! Or Security will GET YOU!

-- currently, Security is in the form of a bouncy, cheerful sixteen-year-old in sweat pants, sitting on a table, sipping a chocolate milkshake, and swinging her legs.

But swinging them in a totally threatening way! Really. No, really.

gone_byebye

No slime today as Ray staggers through the door of Milliways. That's a net plus! Okay, sure, he smells like ozone and most of his hair has a distinctly crispy look to it, but hey, these things happen, right? It's the nature of the business and the nature of New York. He's good with that.

As he unshoulders his heavily notched proton pack and sets it down next to the bar, he says, "I've actually already eaten breakfast this morning, appearances to the contrary. Might I possibly get a glass of the quantum blue and the latest 2010 issue of Who's Who and What's That?, please? My subscription appears to be running late."

The net result is a sober-looking academic journal about half an inch thick and a glass of something not-quite-opaque that happens to be the color of Windex and smells vaguely of berries.

"Thank you, Bar. I appreciate it."

kurosakiboy.livejournal.com

There's a young man down by the lake today. Not a strange sight, and not an unfamiliar one either, but there nonetheless. Ichigo finds his time at Milliways much more tolerable when he spends more time outside and less time inside. Maybe it's because outside there's no missing door to taunt him.

He's chosen to bring his sword outside with him today, if for no other reason than to keep it from gathering any more dust in his room. He's unwrapped the bandages and left the five-foot blade standing by the shore, stabbed into the earth a few feet from the water. He feels rotten for not taking it with him recently, but he has no use for a sword in Milliways, and he doesn't appreciate the extra interest it can sometimes draw. Still, he knows it deserves better, so here they are. A boy and his blade, sitting by the lake.

[OOC: It's my post and I can rewrite it as I please. Forget you ever saw anything different.]

took_a_year_out

A young woman in a labcoat walks in, her nose buried in a medical textbook as she bites her thumb thoughtfully.

When the change in noise from where she's come from registers, however, she looks up. Eyes go wide.

"...Oh my God. Who the hell put a bar in the students' lounge?"

Welcome to Milliways, Miss Martha Jones.

[OOC: Martha is currently just pre-canon! She's completely free to tag by everyone and anyone, but all I ask is that nobody mention the Doctor to her, please.]

3nanashi

Trowa has a cup of coffee and a seat on one of the couches. He looks like he's splitting his attention evenly between the coffee and idly watching the room.

(In actuality, that split is a lot less equal.)

blinkandyoumiss.livejournal.com

Bart, when he is in the bar, is totally casual.

He is totally casual because he is wearing non-hobo clothes, which is to say clothing that looks considerably more expensive than usual.

Also he kind of has an actual place to stay. And a billionaire benefactor.

So that's why he's totally casual.

blowupthefloats

Tonight's Specials
Star Burst
Stardust
Starseeker
Strawberry Starburst

John Munch is standing behind the bar, he's exchanged his jacket and sidearm for a bartender's apron, and he's ready and waiting to take your orders, Milliways.

Happy Hour is go!

dangerousbotany.livejournal.com

The back door swings open, and a delicate green foot touches down. Warm air gusts in, bringing with it the scent of flowers that are out of season, and not native to Scotland in the first place.

Ivy glances around, one eyebrow arching.

Bars.

Despite the fact that she would much rather be outside than in this cramped, dank excuse for alcoholism, Ivy is, in fact, on a mission. She strides coolly across the room, smiling a faint, peculiar smile at a passing waitrat, and pauses, for a moment, as if deciding where to sit down.

[ooc: I knew I was forgetting something! Open at least through the weekend. :D]

imthegoodguy.livejournal.com

Ben isn't in a terribly good mood today, as evidenced by the way he is curled up in a booth, knees at his chest, eyes staring at the part of the bench his body's not covering. Beside him on the table surface is a milkshake more milk than shake. Supposedly chocolate makes you feel better? It's not working so well for Ben.

blinkandyoumiss.livejournal.com

Huh.

Someone left a yellow hoodie in that booth. Someone should pick that up.

-OH WAIT. THERE'S A KID IN THERE. He's got his head in his arms and isn't really moving, possibly because he pushed his up and awake time a leetle too long and conked out.

Sorry, our bad!

alwaysroomforhope

Steph is grumpy today because, in a completely rookie move, she didn't warm up properly before starting her training routine this morning, and managed to tear her left hamstring. Stupid.

So she's stuck inside today, with one thigh approximately twice the size of the other and some serious black-red-purple bruising at the back of her knee, and a pair of helpful bar-provided crutches that are getting the occasional glare. (She'll go see a doctor soon, maybe - it's not a big deal, really, it's not the first time she's done it - for now, milkshakes and painkillers are more important.)

Currently, she's sitting at the piano, half on and half off the stool (it's bloody hard to sit down) and working out the kinks in her attempt at Beethoven's Rondo in C Major, for lack of anything better to do.

vance_prime

The apparition that has been haunting the bar for the past several days is still present. Those who can sense it directly, however, will notice it's been getting... vague. Its edges are blurred and ill-defined; its interior is murky. However, it is still definitively a Presence, milling restlessly around Milliways in search of something or someone to hold on to.

[ooc: Again, read the back room before tagging. Open for tags until it falls off the page.]

[tinytag: Alyx Vance, Annabelle Newfield]