The Bar at the End of the Universe

Sun, 01 Oct 2006 15:36:00 GMT

Posted by: cuttingslack.livejournal.com

Sure, this mun is dizzy. Sick. Whatever. But this is Slack, folks, and though she's got plans for this week in her own world -- a lot of them involve shopping at a historical monument, in fact -- right now she, too, is revelling in the fact that the bar seems to be pretty damned crowded.

She's not exactly ignoring new people, she just isn't going out of her way to meet them, so much. She isn't going out of her way to meet anyone, so much -- she's actually just sitting on a chair with some Kung Pao chicken, a chihuahua mixed breed in her lap.

She's not going out of her way to not talk to anyone either.

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Mon, 11 Sep 2006 18:03:00 GMT

Posted by: cuttingslack.livejournal.com

Slack is very fond of this section of the bar. Where did she come from? Good question. At the moment, it's irrelevant to her, meaning it's probably also just as irrelevant to you.

The part that is relevant is that she's got a blanket, and two mugs of coffee, and is chewing on the end of a piece of jerky, looking mildly unhappy. No, Slack has not been crying -- though she won't deny she's capable, it's not something she really ever has a reason to do -- she's just got a cold.

And really isn't enjoying it.

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Tue, 01 Aug 2006 20:31:00 GMT

Posted by: mnt_mike

Behind Bar stands a familiar red-headed man clad all in black.
Well...okay, so he's familiar, but not for being a red-headed man clad all in black...but same difference really.

He looks up from the shot glass in front of him, and begins to rant.

"And you open the door and you step inside. You're inside our bar. Now imagine your past is a while ball of healing light.
That's right, your past.
The past itself is a white balll of healing light

I don't think so

This is your bar. Good to the last pop. It doesn't get any better than this
That is your universe, and it's ending one minute at a time

This isn't a camp. This isn't a weekend retreat.

Where you are now you can't even imagine where that door will take you. Only after redemption can you be resurrected.
It's only after you've lost everything that you're free to do anything

Nothing is static. Everything is evolving. Everything is falling apart.

This is your bar. It doesn't get any better than this. That is your universe. And it's ending one minute at a time.

You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake.
You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else.
We are all part of the same cosmic compost heap.
We are the all singing all dancing crap of the multiverse.

You are not your bar tab.
You are not the tutu you wear.
You are not the contents of your armory.
You are not your airborne god-like virus.
You are not your White Russian
You are not the ship you fly.
You are not your fucking curry.

You have to give up
You have to give up
You have to realize that someday you might not ever come back.
Until you know that, you are useless.

I say let me never be complete.
I say man I never be content.
I say deliver me from kitchen gadgetry.
I say deliver me from clever art.
I say deliver me from pink skin and perfect teeth.

I say you have to give up.
I say mutate and let the pork rinds fall where they may.
This is your bar.
It doesn't get any better than this.
This is your universe, and it's ending one minute at a time

Welcome to Milliways
If this is your first night....you have to drink."

The board behind Bar proclaims tonights specials to be:

Tequila
Tequeza

And something called...

The Creme of Sum Yung Gai

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Wed, 19 Jul 2006 14:20:00 GMT

Posted by: randomsbastard.livejournal.com

Martin walks into the bar covered in blood. This is not an unusual circumstance.

He isn't moving like he's injured. This ups the amount of weird in his appearance.

He then orders a bottle of scotch, lights a cigarette, and sits down to drink it, in no hurry. Eventually he'll need to find Security.

(Violence warnings apply to the link.)

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Wed, 19 Jul 2006 00:33:00 GMT

Posted by: inquisitivehero

[OOM: After Martin of Amber and Mary-Anne Bell's Encounter, Martin's re-entry and confession, and Hank McCoy's search, Mary-Anne ends up in the Infirmary, where Hank performs emergency surgery and strains the advanced technology of the Infirmary and his own skills to the maximum. In the end, after hours of work, Mary-Anne, under heavy medication, is released. Warnings for blood, gore, violence, and other such things.]

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Wed, 05 Jul 2006 21:40:00 GMT

Posted by: mnt_mike

A large box of craft supplies makes its way down the stairs and over towards Bar.
No wait, scratch that. It was a ninja ex-turtle carrying the craft box.

Before he puts the box on Bar's top, he gives her an appraising look.

"If I put this down, are you going to eat it?"

The Bar, she says nothing. Well, not that you can hear anyway.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

Mike shifts the box in his arms and makes his way over to a nearby table.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, CAN I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE.
Woah, you guys listened this time. Cool.
Okay, here's the deal."

He pauses.

"No no, there is too much. Let me sum up.
There was a battle and in that battle Bernard was hurt. So I figure while he's recouping in the hospital it might be nice to have some stuff from here to cheer him up.

So if you're feeling up for it, come on over and craft until your heart is content. I've got construction paper, pipe cleaners, buttons, and even some raw macaroni.

...

Okay, that's it. Go about your business."

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Tue, 04 Jul 2006 21:26:00 GMT

Posted by: ash--evildead.livejournal.com

Ash enters the bar from home, a small, squirming noisy bundle in his arms.

(No, it's not his son.)

"Hey, watch the claws, y'little-"

Quickly deposited on the nearest available table is a very small, very young, very wiggly brown puppy.

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Out of Milliways

Tue, 27 Jun 2006 14:43:00 GMT

Posted by: cuttingslack.livejournal.com

( Sometimes the scariest things in the world full of undead aren't them, but bad weather, fancy clothes and a distinct lack of coffee. )

Note: No coffee, apples or dinner jackets were harmed in the making of this thread.

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Mon, 26 Jun 2006 16:38:00 GMT

Posted by: cuttingslack.livejournal.com

Aaaand probably she should've gotten up and done this a while ago, but now there's a Slack sliding down the bannister, backpack full of granola, leather jacket on, wounds patched up.

She stops at Bar, orders her usual packet of painkiller, offers her condolences on the breakup (because she knows how these things can be, she does), and gets to leaving a customary ( note ) for Sir Apropos, Sheila & Ash & Jay Williams, Random of Amber & Ramon Salazar and the blanket 'anyone who cares,' then steps out the door.

Prince Edward Islands in a Land Without Central Heating.

It's cold.

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Tue, 20 Jun 2006 17:11:00 GMT

Posted by: cuttingslack.livejournal.com

Slack's trips to Reckoning have gotten more frequent, and in their own ways, more fun.

For a given value of 'fun,' as if you're Slack, coming back to Milliways with a bullet-grazed shoulder that's still bleeding on occasion and a slight limp from having to cauterize your own ankle is simply part of the job, and she loves it.

People are proud of battle scars, after all.

It's the fact that the ice water she just ordered turns out to be salt water with salty ice that's confusing her.

"... you okay, Bar?"

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Siege of Rheon!!

Thu, 08 Jun 2006 11:26:00 GMT

Posted by: wellthrownstone.livejournal.com

The door opens with a crash as the Rivan King runs in. He obviously didn't expect to be running into Milliways, but relief breaks on his face as soon as he recognizes where he is.

"Well... that was certainly helpful."

*I do make things EASIER on occasion.*
If only to balance the many many times you make things incredibly difficult.
*Well... yes.*

He looks chagrined for a moment before looking around. There are difficult ways and easy ways to do things, dignified ways and simple ways to do things. As was usually the case with the Rivan King, with Garion of Riva and once of Faldor's Farm, he went with the easiest... and the simplest.

"ANY FRIEND OF MINE. ANY PACK MEMBER. ANY PARENT. ANYONE WHO WOULD WORK AGAINST SOMEONE WHO HAS STOLEN A CHILD FROM HIS MOTHER'S ARMS." And he considers for half a second, weighing a couple of things in the back of his brain before finally belting out "AND ANYONE WHO'D LIKE THEIR BAR TAB PAID IN FULL" He's not against mercenaries. "COME SEE THE TALL BLONDE MAN WITH THE GIANT SWORD AT THE BAR."

Pause.

"AS SOON AS POSSIBLE."

Cough.

"PLEASE."

[ooc: If you'd like to get started before they finish talking, the threads are here]

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Sun, 07 May 2006 16:20:00 GMT

Posted by: slayer_fray

By the magic of handwavey, Mel's visited both Steph and Zuko, and although she's in a bad mood, we'll assume she didn't actually kill either of them.

So. Security-type in the bar, exercising on top of a table in the booth.

She's getting stronger. She's sure of it.

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Sat, 15 Apr 2006 17:34:00 GMT

Posted by: no_justice

The Defeater of Empires, the Swallower of Oceans, the Thief of Years, the Ultimate Reality, the Harvester of Mankind, the Asassin against Whom No Lock Will Hold, the only friend of the poor and the best doctor for the mortally wounded...

...has an ice cream soda. With a black umbrella in it.

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Sat, 15 Apr 2006 15:49:00 GMT

Posted by: cuttingslack.livejournal.com

According to Google, it is nice out in Scotland today, and that's why (due to the magic of Millitime, before her conversation with Bernard) Slack and her .38 Special are outside enjoying some stress-relieving and occupationally useful target practice.

She welcomes company (and off-range betting).

Provided you don't walk in front of her.

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Bartending Post

Sat, 15 Apr 2006 15:29:00 GMT

Posted by: the-woodpecker.livejournal.com

Holy crap.

Bernard.

In the bar.

Behind the Bar.

Ready to take your orders.

It's been a while. A good, long, hectic while. Try not to faint.

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return of the brainkiller

Tue, 04 Apr 2006 09:16:00 GMT

Posted by: manofthecity.livejournal.com

In honor of mentioning she would do it sometime in a Big Back Room Thread, this post exists.

Around the pool table, which is sometimes in the bar and sometimes not, there are many, many people for one pool table.

Carrot Ironfoundersson is sitting on a stool keeping the score (and keeping peace), and next to him is Badger, who is collecting bets. Carrot keeps giving Badger sidelong disapproving looks, but doesn't actually say anything, since gambling is not directly against the Rules.

Greg Sanders is still trying to decide who to bet on -- the underdog keeps changing, see.

Playing are Rose Red, Sariel, Max Evans and Slack -- Thursday Next is hovering, waiting for a chance to get in, and Cole Sear and Kit Rodriguez are watching and sulking, as they were told they're too young to participate.

(Stupid adults.)

Kurt is getting an amazing view from the rafters, and occasionally swiping a strawberry from the bowl Eilinel's holding. Sitting with Eilinel are Sheila and her infant.

In the other corner, Claire Keogh and Mary O'Brien are just talking about pool -- they're both new to it.

And just wait until Tristan Farnon shows up.

[The original purpose behind the multi-pup post returns: help destroy Rue's braincells! Open to all comers, all day, though I do have a couple of classes in there somewhere.]

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Tue, 14 Mar 2006 01:13:00 GMT

Posted by: latino_menace

[OOM: Cells.

Ramon has to deal with a little snark from Baby, which confuses him a little but it's better than having to placate a rather pissed off Random. Things lighten up with a quick visit from Slack, before taking a turn for the murderous when Mary Anne stops by.

But then, much to his surprise, he discovers that there's another security member that isn't a complete asshole. Yes, one that isn't Arithon. He probably likes Mordred because he released him without too much trouble, but still.]

And so, one Latino Drug Lord grinning and striding up to Bar.

'Stick a hundred bucks worth of drinks on my tab for Mordred Ambrosisus would you please, Bar?'

That done, there's a brief look around to see if the Malfoy woman is around, (or her son), but no. That's OK though, she'll keep. He's not one to forget a grudge, after all.

And with that, Ramon heads for the door, and home.

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Fri, 24 Feb 2006 17:42:00 GMT

Posted by: true_desire

Is anyone really surprised to see Desire in the bar anymore?
Out of those who know the Endless -- No. Probably not.

There in the usual booth, Desire sits with shoes kicked up on the bench across the way: The Endless has a lit cigarette hanging loosely between lips. Book of matches in hand, Desire lights the paper matches one at a time, pitching them at the blue glass ashtray.

Bored Endless.
Better come over and do something before Desire decides to go looking for entertainment.

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Sun, 05 Feb 2006 13:37:00 GMT

Posted by: cuttingslack.livejournal.com

Slack is not just in the booth.

She's mostly asleep in the booth.

There is a book in front of her -- specifically The Zombie Survival Guide, because why not? -- but she's less reading it as staring at it.

Long, long week.

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Security interviews

Tue, 24 Jan 2006 18:37:00 GMT

Posted by: the_lioness

*After a brief walk down by the lake, Alanna is back at her table, waiting for more applicants. There's a rather large thermos of coffee at hand. The coffee smells like cinnamon butter cookies.

Between interviews, she tries to write her brother a letter and contemplates cutting her hair.

It's all very exciting.*

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Sat, 10 Dec 2005 14:18:00 GMT

Posted by: slayer_fray

It's so quiet upstairs.

So very very quiet.

Mike's cooking again. Mince pies. Batches and batches of mince pies. And he's topping up the brandy in the Christmas cake and pudding he made months ago. And he's started experimenting on various foul. and he keeps asking Mel to try things, and much as she wants to be with him, she's worried about...

...as she gets to the Bar, she's presented with a note.

Well, that explains that then.

She retires to a table with cocoa and a book.

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Out Into Darkness

Sun, 27 Nov 2005 18:12:00 GMT

Posted by: gorlim.livejournal.com

[ooc: Pre-post warning for one large but G-Rated image below the cut and probably R-Rated descriptive writing.]

( Gorlim’s Wraith briefly asserts its existence by the lake. )

---
( ooc - IMPORTANT )

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Mon, 14 Nov 2005 17:51:00 GMT

Posted by: gone_byebye

Ray is in the Bar tonight, settled down at table with the guts of a ... well, it used to be a solar calculator... spread out in the middle of the table. His meal's in front of him, his usual green stuff is in his drinking glass, and he looks rather disgruntled that the Bar could only give him a copy of The Action Hero's Handbook instead of coming up with something more along the lines of The Worst Case Scenario Survival Guide: Martial Arts Edition.

Oh well. Maybe you should bother him.

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Mon, 14 Nov 2005 15:57:00 GMT

Posted by: cuttingslack.livejournal.com

Slack?

Yeah, she's in the bar.

Curled up on a couch stragetically placed somewhere ~~that isn't out by the lake, though maybe that one's still there~~, in a rather very very short skirt.

She ran out of leather pants, it seems, but for once is not trying to attract attention to herself.

... Oh well.

She is also reading. The book seems to be in Sumerian, if you know what Sumerian looks like.

Come interrupt.

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Mon, 14 Nov 2005 15:53:00 GMT

Posted by: ash--evildead.livejournal.com

Home again, from another fine day in Retail Hell.

As Ash steps through the door, his drab blue work uniform... changes.

"Oh COME ON!"

Looks like someone's gotten on Bar's bad side.

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