milliways_bar | Entries tagged with anakin skywalker

R2-D2 looks rather more worn than the last time he was seen around Milliways, with scratches and mild dents and the look of a droid who could use a good oil bath, but certainly as active and processing just as swiftly as he rolls in and up to the Bar, beeping a curious greeting at it. A datastick materializes, which he retrieves and examines. After some extremely grumpy beeping—and a quick session plugged into a datapad—he rocks a little as he beeps his acknowledgment and rolls away.

He is on a mission, you see.

It doesn’t take him long to locate Anakin buried in a corner booth, sulkily nursing a drink he hoped he’d never see again. Anakin smiles down at the droid and lays a fond hand on the dome. “Hello, old friend,” he begins.

Beep BEEP bip boop whrrrr! Bip-whrrr beeep BIP beep BOOP.

“What? No. Have your circuits finally just burned themselves out?”

Whrrrr-ip eep whrrrr, R2 rocks emphatically. Boo-eep boo-whrrr.

“I said no, you rusty, deluded—”

BEEP BEEP.

Anakin glares. “It would be a favor, you understand me?”

Bee-oop whrrr bip bop-whrrr-ip. Boop bee-ip whrrrr-rrr-ip boo-ip beep? Boo-whrrr BEEP. Beep whrrr-bip oop beep whrr.

“How has no one scrapped you yet?”

Boo-EEP bip whrrr boop.

Happy Hour
HOUSE SPECIAL, price approximately .33333 standard value
Jedi or Sith
Mai TIE Fighter or Millenium Falcon
Stormtrooper
Blue Milk Cocktail - no bantha milk present, non-alcoholic output upon request
Bantha milk (non-alcoholic)

Check datapads for more featured output options. Non-organics, communicate with bartender for special requirements. Standard alcoholic and non-alcoholic items also available.

If the bartender chooses, drink price set to 0. All other featured drink prices set to .5 standard values.

After a great deal of swearing and arguing in both Binary and Galactic Standard setting up the projector, R2-D2 makes his way briskly along the Bar, a tray attachment on his head upon which drinks can be placed or retrieved from, beeping at everyone as they come up and sending orders back to the mixing and food station. (A sulky, swearing organic is stuck back there doing all the work that requires hands.) The datapads offer information on contents of the specials and other themed and non-themed options freely.

For drinks for which it is appropriate, there are also Tiki shaped like various species and important people in the galaxy. (There are no Vader or Jabba-shaped ones. There may coincidentally be lots of broken bits of black and green around Anakin’s feet.)

The massive Jogan fruit cake at the Bar mysteriously replenished itself just before the shift began, but until it ends: first come first serve, don’t let it disappear!

[[ooc: ~~we will have a couple hour interruption~~ ~~taking a brief break to practice martial arts~~ and we're back, but everyone, threadhop! Socialize! Celebrate together! And oh yeah, check out those drink links, there are some truly hilarious and awesome Star Wars mixed drinks out there. Open forever!]]

forceimbalance

The cantina has been in full swing for some hours by the time the Door ripples a little. It doesn’t so much as open as give a phantom, somewhat glowing image of opening, and there is a flicker of blue on the other side ever so briefly. A moment later, a man more or less materializes out of thin air with a visible flinch, dressed in what are a very obvious darker variant on Jedi robes, cloak and all. (At least they aren’t black.) His face would look surprisingly young, but for the scarring of healed wounds and streaks of grey in his brown hair; as it is, he could be in his late forties. He’s frowning down at his hands as he flexes the right one experimentally.

Actual, real, flesh-and-bones limbs inside Milliways are still disconcerting, for so many reasons.

The sound of the band makes him look up, startled, and promptly glare at his surroundings. As he sighs explosively and begins to stalk past them towards the Bar, the music shifts into a different tune. He turns his bright blue eyes on them in absolute bewilderment and incredulity. As he raises his eyebrows at them, knowing only that this has something to do with him, the band goes very briefly silent—and then breaks into an even jauntier playing of the theme.

Anakin Skywalker just shakes his head and continues his stalk towards the Bar to get himself a drink, taking in the sight of the mock-weapons and the games as he moves. His eyes linger on the banners in obvious confusion. "You," he tells the Bar, "have absolutely no taste. This place? Really?" In response, the Bar just pops up a Rebellion napkin with a little smiley face drawn on it, making him snort.

The band eventually returns to its usual fare. As for the man himself, Anakin can be found throughout the day, sometimes at the Bar or in a booth in a corner, poking at the food and piece of cake waitrats have helpfully provided him with. Sometimes he might be found near the flight pad, peering around the ships with a critical eye, sometimes with expressions of fond reminiscence. Sometimes he's even lingering around the race track, eyeing the vehicles thoughtfully and with an expression of longing, like he's not entirely sure he's allowed to play.

And for a while--maybe even a very long while--he is out at the sparring grounds, cloak tossed carelessly on a bench to the side, a bright blue blade tracing abstract patterns in the air as he steps through lightsaber kata with deadly grace. He might be just a little bit dead, but hey, there’s no point in getting out of shape, right?

[OOC: Just be glad it isn't Vader, y'all. I was tempted.]

[ooc edit: oh yeah probably all the spoilers for tfa on that first thread whoops]

forceimbalance

Anakin looks a little weary when he walks into the Bar today, with Artoo rolling quietly at his side. That his hand is absently on the astromech’s dome is probably a measure of just how disturbed he actually is, though he’s obviously trying to keep it from showing much. As he approaches his usual table, a rat comes up to them. “Something to eat--as long as it isn’t rations I don’t really care what it is--” Anakin begins, but then the rat hands him a note.

He reads it.

“...Seriously?”

Beee-ip boop, Artoo says encouragingly.

“Oh, fine.” And then he looks up, and around, because he thinks he knows someone’s here in Milliways (of course he’d know, he’s learning her presence pretty fast) who is just the person he needs for this to actually work out. Sure enough, there’s a juvenile Togruta elsewhere in the Bar. Perfect. “Snips!”

Whrrr-oop beep bip! Artoo objects slightly.

“It’s called delegating. It’s a natural part of command. She should learn some time. HEY SNIPS!”

Specials:
Bomb Cocktail
Electric Storm
Missing In Action
Revitalizer - non-alcoholic
Blue milk

The handwriting on the last is different than the other four, and anyone who catches them in the act of writing the board may overhear quite a bit of bickering. When everything has settled, Anakin can be seen relaxing behind the Bar on a seat as much as he can, seemingly having ‘let’ Ahsoka and R2-D2 take most of the work while he gets in a meal. As he said, delegating.

[ooc: we may be doing Star Wars Day officialy on the 40th anniversary, but we’re honoring May the Fourth anyway with this rockstar trio. Have fun, y’all.
edit: Aaand we are now in slowtimes. Thanks to everyone, tune back in three weeks from now for more Star Wars celebrating!]

angry_friendship_wolf

[OOM: In which the Labyrinth is a magical place where nothing bad happens.]

thewidewideworld

Sinric pushes the door open, shaking back a hood of heavy blue cotton edges with gold of a very Indian style. He looks around with a small, humourless laugh. "I suppose it had to happen in time."

No-longer quite as young, or as androgynous, he still moves gracefully as he heads to the bar for a drink.

thewidewideworld

Sinric comes down to the bar, dressed in practical travelling clothes, his hair braided with silver beads, his eyes heavy with kohl.

He pauses at the bar, leaving messages and gifts for friends and filling a pouch with the modern things he’s grown accustomed too. Toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner, pain killers, antiseptic creams. Far more than the little belt-pouch looks like it should be able to hold. Not that it seems to make the pouch any heavier either.

He takes a key from inside his sleeve and places it on the bar with a sigh of... contentment perhaps.

He looks around the bar, drinking it all in one last time before he heads for the door and back to his own world.

Botherable before he goes. Open all weekend.

mightbeagoodone

[OOM: Caring is not an advantage.]

Half the time, when Sherlock comes to the bar, he doesn't mean to --he doesn't realize he's there until people start talking to him.

(Talking. God.)

Tonight, he enters the bar with the complete purpose of being there, with the sole purpose of finding something stronger than the low-tar cigarette Mycroft gave him earlier. Something dangerous. Something that will take away this unwelcome sensation (like a deep and endless cave, like a whirlpool sucking down a ship, like the great and terrible void outside the observation window) that he suspects is grief.

If he is to feel, let him feel something other than regret.

Speaking of regret... there's a package waiting for him at the bar.

Sherlock opens the package and reads the note at the end. His mouth quirks in a tiny smile.

Well.

If it's danger he wants, danger, he suspects, he will get.

[ooc: If there is anything Sherlock should observe about your character that is not in your character profile, please comment here. Comments are screened.]

forceimbalance

It was a normal day in Milliways. Truly it was.

And then Anakin Skywalker walks in.

While this normally not huge cause for a break from normality (yet, anyway), today, the moment he sets foot inside—and before he can even see the Normal Milliways Look, suddenly everything looks…different.
Anakin had been in a good mood, see. A very good mood. He finished his mercy mission which has saved hundreds of lives, and as a bonus got to destroy an admiral on the way through ace piloting and clever tactics (even if Obi-wan was rolling his eyes).

But when he steps through—though realizing this must be Milliways, as it appeared out of nowhere—that smile and spring in his step turn to shock and then a fierce glare before he stalks to a booth to sulk.

Because now the Bar appears rather eerily like a wretched hive of scum and villainy. The exception are the screens available—albeit in proper style for that universe—offering costume options or even temporary species changes to anyone who wants it. There are also non-lethal blasters and training lightsabers like they give to younglings in the temple, ones that can bruise but not actually do terribly much damage.

A band appears apparently out of nowhere, striking up the tunes of the seedy bars of that world. Party on, Milliways. Party on.

[Party-style post! Threadhop! Post EPs of hilarity! Have fun, May the Fourth be with you, it’s Star Wars day!]

forceimbalance

When the Door briefly morphs into the automatic-sliding-space-ship-door style opening, Anakin steps through the door. Today, however, he does not step through alone. Today he's followed by a little metal rolling friend.

R2-D2 has never been in Milliways before, and when he realizes he is not on the ship, he begins beeping and rocking from side to side in agitation. Anakin looks down in surprise, before looking back up at Milliways. "Calm down, Artoo, it's fine. It's just Milliways." With a casual shrug, he continues on his way to the Bar. R2, meanwhile, just makes a small noise of mild distress and disappointment.

After a moment, he gives up and follows Anakin--who has, in the meantime, received a napkin that he regards with some surprise. While he's busy reading it, a data chip quietly materializes on the counter, and is just as quietly taken by the astromech.

"Uh, sure. Artoo!"

Happy Hour Special:
Bantha Milk Cocktail
Note: this doesn't actually contain Bantha milk. Free drink if someone can come up with a way to make an alcoholic beverage with real Bantha milk.

[[ooc: two bartenders for the price of one--literally. Poor R2. Tag one or both. Some instant slowtimes, but open however long!]]

fry_sandhu

Fry is in the main bar, with his chess set out. If he can play three different people this week, he'll get his badge, so he's looking for opponents that aren't his sister or his dad.

[ooc: See this post. I am happy to either play the games out, or we can do d20+age and handwavery, or however you fancy!

N.b. your pup doesn't have to be a Scout to challenge Fry, he can still count them.]

not_his_pa

After a weird encounter out in the stables with Autor, William enters and gets a napkin. He pours himself a glass of whiskey before writing on the board in looping cursive.

Specials
If you've run across a man calling himself Evil and men in soft brown suits chasing him, your drink is free. Do you know what's going on?
Whiskey
Wine
Beer

Then he sits down and realizes he still has his lariat and lays it on the counter as he takes a long drink.

(OOC: Late Happy Hour in relation to the chaos appearing in various threads. Open all weekend with slows for sleep.)

forceimbalance

On the other side of the door, where no one can see it, a young man frowned slightly at a feeling he's not sure of for a split second before the Door opens.

In fact, the Door doesn't so much get pushed open as slide aside in an uncharacteristically futuristic way. "No, no, go tell him I'll be right there," he says over his shoulder--a computerized voice can be faintly heard to be saying "Of course, sir"--and steps through.

And freezes, even as the door closes behind him.

His eyes narrow as he scans the room. Nothing seems overtly threatening, though--and a bar is a bar. After a moment he moves with almost deceptive casualness towards the bar itself, trying to project that he knows exactly what he's doing. After all, where better to learn what's going on?

And if Anakin Skywalker's hand stays close to his lightsaber, well, who can blame him?

redeemed-one.livejournal.com

Will wonders never cease? There is an Anakin in the bar *again*. And he's looking for his granddaughter.

He'll accept other company, too.

redeemed-one.livejournal.com

Now here's a rare sight. It's Anakin, in the bar. The jeans and t-shirt ("Think Jedi") are a mere side effect.

redeemed-one.livejournal.com

Anakin is in the bar ~~because his mun is an overprotective bitca~~. Feel free to have at and introduce him to your friends. He doesn't bite.

oldschooljedi.livejournal.com

Back by the lake, near a copse of trees, there is a ripple in the Force. Well, perhaps a bit more than a ripple. Qui-Gon is practicing forms while meditating. It's not as strange as it seems. His 'sabre flashes with its characteristic green light as he moves through various positions, defensive maneuvers, and forms. He's definitely disturbable, though. Jedi can't practice all the time.

masterofsoresu

From far, from morn and evening and yon twelve-winded sky, the stuff of life blows hither to knit an old Jedi. Which is to say, Obi-Wan's in the bar. How's that for things you don't see every day ~~but would if his mun were assertive enough to request computer time in the evenings~~?

Current Mood: artistic

silver_flecks

Endless inna bar!

With daughter!

...

Yes, it scares the mun to read that, too.

blue_ajah

*The air near a certain table shimmers, and Moiraine appears. She glances around, then starts toward the bar. As she does so, Holly runs up, chittering, and brings a cup of tea. The Aes Sedai smiles in appreciation, then settles down with tea and her journal.*

redeemed-one.livejournal.com

The Bar seems to have taken it upon herself to update Anakin's wardrobe. This morning, she presented him with a pair of jeans and a T-shirt reading 'Jedi do it forcefully.' He is currently wearing both items and looking perplexed.

Current Mood: confused

asar-suti.livejournal.com

Asar-Suti is in the half-finished staff quarters again.

He's been conjuring things for quite a while now: wallpaper, paint, glue, doorknobs, tiles, washbasins, rolled-up carpeting, DIY floowboards, what have you, he's busy making it.

And a few cardboard packages of purportedly easy-to-build kitchen cabinets, for those of the staff who get their own small kitchens in their quarters.

He's got a tan bathtub and nice, fiddly brown-and-green mosaic tiling already secreted away, set aside for Gil's future bathroom.

The place is busy; people are bustling about, demanding more of this or that, asking each other how something works, and lending each other hands, arms and other body parts for the more arduous tasks.

The goal of finishing this weekend looks quite realistic.

[[OOC: This is the second of the building site posts that I'd suggested; if your character volunteered to help or just likes to lend a hand, come on in - fly-by posts to establish your pup was there, long chats and brief interludes all equally welcome!]]