The Bar at the End of the Universe

Fri, 15 Apr 2005 23:12:00 GMT

Posted by: wizard_dresden

So, I found Bob... turns out he's had quite a bit of fun since he's been here.

He mentioned something about Nick and David (whoever he is) giving Alex (whoever he is) a birthday present... and why do I get the feeling that I really don't want to know what that gift was?

Really.

Think I'll find a nice place at the bar to sit.

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Sun, 13 Mar 2005 04:44:00 GMT

Posted by: tallentless.livejournal.com

*Billy's in the bar, 'cos he's a glutton for punishment.

No, really*

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Tue, 01 Mar 2005 02:13:00 GMT

Posted by: sir-apropos.livejournal.com

I wander out of the kitchens occasionally. Every once in a while, my mind pulls free from the monotony of my position and demands that I venture forth into that great sea of fools one could, if one was feeling generous, in fact, call the general crowd here at the bar. While generally cleaner and more polite than the crowd I grew up with at Stroker's, and definitely less smelly than the group I served in Bugger Hall, I've seen enough though the occasional swing of the kitchen doors that I can reasonably conclude that they are no less prone to idiocy and epic melodrama.

Quite frankly, I've had enough to last my entire life.

Unfortunately, though, I manage to work up enough spare hope to allow myself to make the aforementioned venture...and thus, here I am.

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Lake Party Shore Post, Day Two

Sun, 13 Feb 2005 15:36:00 GMT

Posted by: the-woodpecker.livejournal.com

*The sun is shining just as brightly as it did yesterday.

Surprisingly, the lakeside isn't completely trashed. The remnants of the bonfire are still smouldering, and there are patrons scattered here and there on the grass, sleeping on blankets or just lounging in the afternoon sun.

There are tables piled with food, ready for patrons to help themselves.

And, of course, there's a bar.*

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Tue, 04 Jan 2005 21:04:00 GMT

Posted by: henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

* Indy is not in the mood for happy hour fun tonight. Ignoring the 243 in progress on the other side of the room, he orders a whiskey from Bernard and retreats to a table in a more quiet part of the bar. After a chuckle at the fracas and an idle perusal of tonight's other customers, he pulls another egg out his pocket carefully *

* It's the same sort of egg as yesterday and appeared mysteriously in his bed during the night in just the same way. It also seems to be invoking the same puzzled frowns. The bespectacled professor eventually leans back and sips at his drink, while curiously tossing the egg up and down in his free hand *

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Wed, 29 Dec 2004 01:10:00 GMT

Posted by: henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

[Post/Pre-Milliways: Hyde's room]

* Hyde, Mike and Indy appear at the top of the stairs chuckling to each other. Hyde and Mike head on down while Indy seems to notice an interesting mark on the wall which he proceeds to stare at for several minutes *

* Eventually he decides that the mark is not actually that interesting. He treads carefully, peering closely at each stair as he descends. To a casual observer it might not be apparent that he hasn't actually been to bed. Nor that he's spent the last twenty four hours in Hyde's room... doing whatever it is that happens in Hyde's room. What they would notice is that he is sporting a rather large amount of twinkie cream matted into his hair and splotched across his face. Quite fetching really *

* The scruffy explorer is already in conversation with someone — possibly himself or possibly the stairs *

Each stair is an independent being with its own dimensions and angles. One must treat each step with the respect it deserves. Stairs have rights too. Don't you? We need to get some carpeting on this one, it looks cold. Oh you do have carpet. That's nice. Very comfy. Mmmm... soft under my feet. Feet have feelings too you know? Not independent ones... but still, you gotta take them into consideration with the whole walking on stuff thing. It'd be real hard to walk if you got your feet stolen for example. 'Specially down stairs. Right?

* Once he has reached the bottom of the staircase he just stands there looking at his feet for a while, wondering why they haven't answered his question. Through sunken bloodshot eyes Indy squints at the bar with his mouth curled in an immovable smirk. He spies Hyde *

I seeeee you! FOOD! And bananas!

* He runs over and bounces onto a stool next to Hyde, peering up and down the length of the counter curiously *

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Mon, 27 Dec 2004 21:13:00 GMT

Posted by: marionravnwood.livejournal.com

*The door to the bar bursts open.*

Finally!

*Marion looks beyond tired and she feels that way, too. It had been only three days since Indy had been shot and seemingly killed right in front of her...and then vanished before her very eyes. There hadn't been anyone she could turn to in New York and there was no way in hell she was going back to Chicago for a good long while. Milliways was where she had to go, where perhaps answers to her questions could be answered. Maybe someone there could explain to her what might have happened to Indy - why he disappeared, where his body might have gone to.

She just needed closure.

Unsure of who she might look for, she stands just inside the doorway peering around at the various patrons, trying to discern who might be a good person to speak to about such things.*

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Hyde's (Pre-)Christmas Rager

Wed, 22 Dec 2004 00:12:00 GMT

Posted by: andmisterhyde.livejournal.com

Hyde keeps wandering through the bar and out the lake door and back again. He has a blanket draped over his arm, like the weird velour kind you'd find in a hotel room. First he gets a chair, and brings that outside. He comes back inside.

He gets a ridiculous amount of plastic cups.

He takes them outside.

He comes back inside and puts a hastily scrawled (on a piece of cardboard, with red magic marker) sign on the bar, propped up against an empty mug. It reads:

PARTY --->

...with the arrow towards the lake door.

Then off he goes, closing the door behind him.

[OOC: Hyde's having a kegger. Open to one and all! It may be cold outside, but Alanna's magical purple bonfire rages...and more important, there is BEER.]

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Tue, 14 Dec 2004 01:12:00 GMT

Posted by: angelus-amadeo.livejournal.com

Armand stands on a chair beside an undecorated 10-foot pine tree, and shouts over the noise of the bar.

"'Scuse me, if you'd all be so kind, we're decorating the Christmas Tree now. It's tradition on my Earth to decorate a tree twelve days before the day of Christmas, and to take it down twelve days after again.

"So, if anyone would like to join us, we have plenty of decorations to be hung. Just come on over!"

And he climbs down again, smiling, and taking up the first decoration (an iced ginger-bread man) he hooks it on carefully.

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Tue, 23 Nov 2004 21:07:00 GMT

Posted by: henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

* Indy ambles downstairs nonchalantly with his leather jacket slung casually over one shoulder. Ever since the nutty mayhem of several weeks ago, he's kept a rather low profile. Half a day of unconsciousness under the bar in a pool of someone else's vomit tends to do that to a person. He has kept to shadowy back tables, drunk very little and talked to less than no-one *

* He strolls up to the bar and orders a bourbon from an irate rat who was just about to be cut for the night. The drink arrives, accompanied by a verminous scowl. With a squeak that can only be described as bitchy, the rat points its tail at the snifter and scurries off before Indy can order anything else *

* A smile breaks across his rugged face as he pulls out his familiar bar stool and places his jacket over it. The worn leather creaks as he slides onto the seat. After cocking an eyebrow at the rabbit several stools down, he takes a tentative sip from his glass. It feels good. It feels right. He sighs happily, looking around and taking in the ~~meggy~~ general atmosphere *

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Sat, 20 Nov 2004 00:03:00 GMT

Posted by: timsbooks.livejournal.com

*The floor before the bar glows in a specific spot, and it begisn to ooze a thick black viscious goo. The goo keeps increasing in volume until there is quantity equal to a human bbody. It begins to build upwards climbing into a six foot tower of black sludge. Definition slowly begins to take shape, a head, arms, legs a torso, familiar clothing. Some of the black fades to pale pink, defing his face and Tim is there, smiling happily. He flexes his fingers, spreading them to break the gooish joinings and then brushes himself off with a laugh.*

Ah.. it worked! Excellent.

*He glances aroudn the bar, looking for familiar faces... He's really hoping to see Warren and apologise... ah well...*

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Sat, 06 Nov 2004 23:27:00 GMT

Posted by: mnt_raph

*Raph comes in from the Lake area, and stops when he catches sight of the bar.*

Sister Mary Frances! What the hell happened in here?!?!¹

¹name the movie, get a prize.

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