milliways_bar | Entries tagged with antinoos

Ned Poins is by the bar, and quaffing small beer from a large jug, thirsty and grim.
Teja comes inside from forge-work, snow on his shoulders, all four cats dashing inside with him, obviously disapproving of the weather.
Urquhart is by the fireplace, reading, the dog asleep by his feet.
Antinoos is in the rafters, this time, peering down at people. He may be armed with cherry pits.

[[OOC: Say whom you want in your tag! Open all weekend.]]

There's another, smaller party going on down by the lake, in honor of the longest night of the year.

Well, religious celebration complete with 'sacrifice' (no animals were harmed during the making of this party) and sunset-to-sunrise music and dancing. And feasting. Totally free food and drinks, if you don't mind Roman cuisine.

If you can find the place, that is. Sure, there's a small bonfire, and there's activity going on, but it's off on the far side of the lake, more secluded. This isn't a lighthearted thing, here. This is a throwback to the time when people knew how vital the sun was, and didn't just take for granted the fact that it would come up tomorrow. Worlds are born and worlds die, and you just never know when.

And if it's after midnight, and the sacrifice has been made, you just might be able to catch the Norse god posing as the Syrian-Roman priest-emperor whose shindig this is, if you're so inclined. (He'd be the one covered in blood and flowers.)

[ooc: open all week, what with holiday business and whatnot]

no_mere_marble

Contrary to popular belief, there is snow in the higher mountains of Greece and Asia Minor in winter.

When Antinoos came in from sweltering Thebes tonight and found snow outside, he got himself warm clothes like a Greek hunter or Roman soldier in winter would wear, and ran right outside. He had missed snow!

Now he's out there, enjoying the snow and the cold, and acting, for once, exactly as young as he is. After a while, he finds that he can't resist the idea of surprising some poor unfortunate (he's outside, so it's no violence, right), and when a somewhat small and scruffy fellow comes outside, he gets a soft, large snowball right in the face, from a safe position twenty yards away, in the bushes.

Ned Poins, however, is well versed with ambushes, so he spots soon where the attack came from, and gathers snow to retaliate, running towards the shrubbery -- and so, the battle is joined, and soon, there is a big white-and-brown dog yelping excitedly, and a big, blond Scotsman grinning widely and waiting to decide which side to take.

However, when you come outside today, you might get caught in the crossfire; or perhaps you'd like to join the battle just for the fun of it?

[[OOC: Party post -- tag in, then splat somebody else! Have at! Open until the weekend ends. Snowball fight as per this post.]]
[[ETA: Gone to bed now -- please threadhop and have the snowball fight among yourselves! Thanks!]]

ostro_goth

It is evening.

Teja is sitting by the fireplace, with a clay cup of red wine and a lapful of cats, working a -- a computer?

Urquhart is sitting at the bar, the sleeping dog at his feet, drinking -- hot milk with honey?

Poins is on a couch, curled up with -- hot chocolate and a book about the history of America?

Antinoos is at a table, reading some parchments, and fiddling with -- a d20?

[[OOC: Say in your tag whom you want!]]

poins

It is still early, and the fog outside has not yet lifted. Teja is standing outside the back door, staring into the murk. The trees look strange this morning, and is there someone moving among them? -- No, there isn't.

It isn't Urquhart, in any case. He's outside as well, but too far away to be spotted from the back door. He's wandering over the glens, his dog close at his heels. He won't put up with feeling scared, and refuses to skulk inside. He's rather cold, though.

Antinoos is standing by the lake shore, pondering the mist swirling over the water. This is so cold, barbarous, inhospitable! And there are things moving among the trees. Or are they?

Ned Poins has seen enough of mist and darkness; he rather wants to skulk close to the fireplace, not leave the inglenook, and warm his feet. However, outside he is, searching for the best way back in, opening doors. This is a kitchen, is it? Will he be safe to enter among the rats?

ostro_goth

It is Sunday morning, still early; there is fog and murk outside by the lake, and the trees are moving ominously with the wind and the fine, lashing drizzle. A sensible man would stay inside: - but not all men are sensible!

Urquhart is leaning against the outside wall, close to the back door, still protected by the eaves. He was meaning to still do things in the garden to tamp it down for winter, and is less than motivated to do so right away, today. Franz the dog is sitting by his feet, sharing his warmth. They both don't like the way the forest looks today. It is not a good day to be outside.
Teja, however, is outside, drenched with the fine rain that is slowly soaking through his Tyrian purple cloak. He has been to see to his horse, and is now fetching the cats from the stable, as they have made it very clear they're not setting a foot outside in this weather. At the moment, it is Myrrh that he is carrying, safe and warm in his arms, under the cloak. From time to time, Teja looks over his shoulder towards the forest. An almost palpable menace is emanating from it.
Antinoos is sitting by the window, brooding out into the grey. He's asking himself whether the Egyptian desert isn't an infinitely better place to be than this shapeless Caledonian murk. Especially as those northern, fog-bred trees look ugly and scary.
Ned Poins comes in, hungover, as he is wont to do -- life stinks, as often, quite literally, at home. He would have a bath! But not, he decides, out in the lake with this weather -- it would freeze his flesh, so it might not be un-frozen yet by the time he thinks it is needed. This might be the time to enquire about bath-houses, at last. Bath-houses without misshapen trees that seem to menace all that stray towards them, bath-houses with lusty wenches and cheerful lads, instead.

ostro_goth

It is Saturday morning, and everybody is having breakfast. Of sorts.

Teja is having tea, coarse bread, moretum, and sliced cured meat at a table; very traditional. From time to time, he may be dropping small shred of the cured meat to the floor, where four cats are casually lounging under his table.
Urquhart has cooked himself a nice large breakfast in the kitchen, with eggs and black pudding and bacon, fresh bread rolls, jam, and butter, in addition to a large pot of coffee. He's having all that at a table by the window, reading a book. Franz the dog is sitting by his side, being very good and trying to neither look at his human's food, nor at his face in a hopeful 'Can this stop and c an we go out now'? sort of way.
Ned Poins comes staggering in through the door, from a dirty medieval alley somewhere in London (most probably near Eastcheap, or even in Southwark). He looks a bit green about the gills, and definitely hungover, giving a grateful little groan and slouching against the bar. He urgently needs something restorative, but has no notion what to ask the bar for. "Most noble Lady Bar, I am a wretched wretch; have you any suggestions to better that?"
Antinoos arrives all energetic, from the scorching desert, wearing sensible hunting clothes and carrying some spears, a rather large but healing scrape on his cheek making him look less a pampered plaything of late Roman decadence, and much more like an actual and commonplace young man. Oh, this place again! Here, he can finally drink all the fresh cold water!
Tower has already been here. He's been here all the time, really. He's eating a very large and sophisticated omelette, and drinking a caffé coretto while grinning at the general populace.
Lorenzo sneaks in, with his lute; he was on his way to a lesson and is utterly delighted to be spared it, for the moment. He orders himself pancakes and waits for whatever this wondrous place may bring.
Margolotta is by the fireplace, having cocoa while doing the Ankh-Morpork Times crossword. Just a little light distracting relaxation before turning in for the day.
Tamara the mermaid has dragged herself from the lake and sprouted legs, the way her kind does on dry land; she is wearing a short and flimsy silk dress that covers all the necessary places without leaving much to the imagination, and eating sushi for breakfast, which she is obviously enjoying a lot. She does not look harmless at all while doing so.
Sirona is sitting at a table with a large disposable coffee cup that probably contains something quite objectionable (to coffee purists), and her little laptop, giggling at something on the screen.

[[OOC: This Saturday breakfast post is nevertheless open all weekend! Say in your tag whom you want, or you might get anybody.]]

friend_of_lucy

The door doesn't open all the way at first, it opens a crack and music, pan pipes and harps and singing voices and the noise of dancers comes through. Then it opens more as the click-clack of hooves grows louder and Tumnus enters playing his pipe and dancing.

Flowers are twined about in his hair and stuck in his fur as today has been a day to celebrate the fullness of Summer in Narnia. When the ground shifted, he looked down and around before laughing and continuing to play.

There's no magic in this music, its just full of life and meant for dancing to, he doesn't sit but moves through the Bar towards the back door.

(OOC: I have a job! Tumnus' music has no magical effects, its just wonderful music to dance to. Open until I say its not. :-))

no_mere_marble

"... you have all of your life ahead of you still," Orpheus had told him, matter-of-factly, and that casual verdict is the reason why Antinoos is still in Milliways now, wondering.

You could say that the question of 'What do you want to do with your life, and how do you go about getting it?' is one facing everybody at his age, but that's not really true. There are ruts that most ordinary, common, peaceful lives sit on: follow in footsteps, learn the trade of the father or the uncle or work inherited property, marry the obvious girl or (if you're a girl) marry the obvious boy and do what your mother and mother-in-law tell you. Have the requisite number of children, prosper, have parties, see your sons compete in games and win this or that. Grow old, marry off your daughters, tell stories to your grandchildren, die.

That's not just the life of a good privileged citizen in the heyday of the Roman empire, it's the life of much of mankind, even less privileged people in less peaceful times. Don't think, just fall forward through your life, chances are it'll all work out completely unspectacularly and without much thinking.

Antinoos was fourteen when he followed the most powerful man in the known world away from his safe little life into the great exciting unknown, and far away from any chance to ever just fall forward again.

He's nineteen now, history books say that he won't reach twenty, and in here, Antinoos has a chance to hear himself think. Antinoos is draped on a couch, shapely bare legs not covered very far by a short chiton dangling over the armrests, a goblet of good wine dangling from his fingers, thinking and plotting, playing possible scenes and futures in his head, over and over.

golden_lyre

[OOM: If I could I would make you a raging river,
with angry rapids, supplied with rain,
so you could always meander
and forever be able to run away
without contending with myths wrongly interpreted, with pain.
A harsh wind.]

One of the odd (and sometimes quite nice) things about Milliways is that time works differently here.

So while it was only last night that Orpheus fled from the apparently terrifying prospect of dancing with someone he genuinely cared about, from the perspective of the bar, it's been about a week for him in Paris.

He's hardly eaten or showered since he left, and he's still slightly inebriated as he stumbles into the bar, reeking of cigarettes and alcohol. He seems surprised to find himself there, and stumbles into an empty table.

"Oops, sorry," he mutters, not looking to see who he might be apologizing to, and carries his guitar (fingers raw from playing for nearly a week straight) to the bar to get another drink.

The trouble with releasing your emotions in a torrent on the city of Paris is that it leaves you rather, well, drained.

no_mere_marble

The door opens on a kitchen. It's a homey, comfortable Italian country kitchen, containing an old fireplace, a slightly less old kitchen range, and a large table that you just want to keep sitting around for the night.

And an unexpected motorbike.

The motorbike is being wheeled through the kitchen and into the bar by the Goth whose kitchen it presumably is (more or less; it's just a borrowed place that has come to him through Demeter). Usually, Teja only rides his motorbike there in that world, in early 21st century Tuscany; but today he wants to tinker a bit with it in his forge, so he pushes it into the bar, kicks shut the door, wheels it gingerly around the furniture all through the bar, and then out through the back, to the forge where he will be working on it. Catch him anywhere on the way!

Urquhart is outside, watering the garden. There might still be a thunderstorm today; but on the other hand, there might not be, and the plants need water in any case.

As he's at it, he gets vegetables and herbs to take into the kitchen, and an assortment of berries he's going to bake into muffins, later. He's still not clear whether he really cares about people, or if he just spoils the people he has ulterior motives about, to make them more easily compliant to whatever he actually wants of them

But it doesn't matter, does it? He's going to make muffins, and then he's going to offer them to the people he knows and likes cares about knows and wants something of.

This is confusing! The dog, however, is much less confused and just lies in the sun, dozing. Franz knows nothing about doubting motivations. He just loves his humans, and likes almost everybody else. If you approach him, he'll definitely wag his tail at you with no ulterior motive.

Outside at a table on the lawn sits Antinoos, who has fled from sweltering Alexandria to this much more temperate and pleasant Caledonia. He's got a large pitcher full of cold water with a bit of lemon balm and ginger floating in it, and is poking at -- some electronic thing on which you can play games.

To pass the time, he's asked the bar for a game, and because the bar ~~or his mun~~ was being mischievous, out came this beeping device from the future.

He is trying to make sense of it, but the jury's still out on that.

Somebody might want to help him figure it out?

Tower has decided to take the summer off. Enough things have been Tower'd in recent years; now it's time for other archetypes and entities. That's why he's in a hammock on the beach of the Caribbean inlet, drinking rum from a coconut.
Not far from him, Tamara is happily drifting in the water, playing with a cute little squidlet. She's decided to keep that one as a pet.
Sirona is sitting not far from Antinoos, working at her trusty laptop (still the little Sony Vaio) and trying not to giggle at the boy in the chiton fighting with electronics from the future.
Margolotta is in the bar, drinking tea by the fireplace and making lists in a rather large ledger. For somebody like her, the summer sun is bad, and there is always work to be done anyway.
Lorenzo stumbles into the bar a few moments after Teja has come in, from Tuscany as well, but a very different time. He's carrying a lute and looking around, first in bewilderment, then with a big grin. Seems somebody just escaped a lute lesson! Never mind it will be waiting for him when he goes home. At least, it's not right now!

[[OOC: Here are all the pups of mine -- say in your tag who you want!]]

ostro_goth

Teja is by the lake, going through the forms and stances Ryû Hayabusa taught him, long ago. He still does them, studiously, each morning. They give peace to his soul, clarity to his mind, and rouse his body from the night's sleep. He will acknowledge those that pass by, and speak with them, of course.

Two of his cats, Myrrh and Count, are nearby, watching him. Occasionally, one of them will run over Teja's foot or rub against Teja's ankle because it can't really be allowed for a human to so completely ignore his cats, even if he does it every morning. Taking a breath, Teja might reach down to quickly scritch an ear or rub a furry cheek, before continuing.

If you've got a dog, you need to let or take it out on occasion, unlike a cat who will use a litter box. And if you've got a dog, one constant in your life is going out with the dog first thing in the morning. So Urquhart is outside as well, wearing a big knitted sweater against the unexpected morning chills, and throwing sticks for Franz, his dog, to fetch. He's got a travelling mug of coffee in his hand, and sips from it occasionally as he walks along the shore, and watches the dog run back and forth.

He'll talk to you if he sees you, depending. He's definitely leaving Teja alone, doing his Japanese war-dance or whatever it is; he even whistles to Franz to keep the dog from going and investigating.

Antinoos is out by the lake as well, running. Running is a good way of waking up in the morning; and running in this place has the added benefit of a crisp coldness he can quite appreciate after the sweltering heat of Alexandria. So when Antinoos woke up this morning beside a snoring Hadrian, and slipped out, and found a portal to Milliways instead of a gaggle of waiting flunkies, he was actually glad about it. Egypt is just too hot at this time of year!

[[OOC: All here until it scrolls -- just say in your tag who you want! Thanks!]]

againsttherules

As a consequence of not having a folder to store his dissertation in, Jack is stood behind the bar when a napkin appears.

He looks at it for a second, then looks around him. "I really do have this to be doing." he says as he taps the folder.

It promptly vanishes, a second napkin appearing in it's place.

"Oh, ok."

The board is found and Jack has no hesitations as he writes a neat sign up:

Happy Hour Specials

Guinness
Foster's
Whiskey
Orange Juice

"Happy Hour is up, people."

[tiny tag: Jack West, Antinoos]

[ooc: Bed time for me, now, Still up for slow time tags, though, if any want them]

not_his_pa

His father's back in Milliways and William's had time to go back to Arizona, introduce Horus to his family and see that everything's well there.

Milliways finds him in the midst of his evening chores with Horus asleep in his jacket pocket, once he's sure that Mark's inside, he goes through the stall door to the Bar.

He smiles and goes through to find a comfortable chair by the fire and starting the new dime novel he found about a detective in Canada by the fire.

Tiny tag: Antinoos

balancingminds

Due to two lessons on shielding, Charles has been thinking about the metaphors that are used to learn and make sense of abstract concepts and few things are more abstract than the workings of the mind. It's something he's always been fascinated by as how he pictures his shields has changed as he's grown older.

Currently he's at a table with a notebook, an illustrated book about historic battlements, his personal copy of The Once and Future King and the remains of his tea as he puts down the chronology of his mental walls.

Every once in a while, he'll look around and listen, savoring the diversity of minds here before returning to work. Perhaps no one will ever read this but it's useful for his own knowledge.

Tiny tag: Charles Xavier, Antinoos, Wing
OOC: Charles is passively listening to thoughts so please include them in the narration of your tags or if he won't be able to hear your characters thoughts, explain what he will encounter. Thank you.

balancingminds

Charles has been taking advantage of the fact that time stops in Milliways to do work and learn more about the people who pass through here. There's such a variety to the minds and experiences that if he didn't have to finish his editing, he'd probably spend most of his time with his eyes closed and just listening.

As it is, one of his sections isn't going as he'd like and he keeps going back over a certain sentence until he's quite lost track of time.

When he finally gets it right, he looks up and realizes that took a while and allows himself a break, so he leans back in his chair and observes the Bar.

Tiny tag: Charles Xavier, Antinoos
OOC: If you approach him while he's working then he's not mentally listening except quite passively. After he's stopped working, he is actively listening to the conversations and minds around him. Feel free to interrupt him or wait until he's on a break. Please let me know what he'll encounter in your pup's mind. Thank you.

againsttherules

A man walks into a bar.

This isn't unexpected for either side of the door.

By the time the door has swung shut however, he's noticed where he is. And where he is, clearly isn't where he expected to be, given the way he's tensed up and started scanning the room.

"This isn't Foley's."

Anyone care to tell Jack West Jr exactly where 'here' is?

[ooc: open for slowtimes until it scrolls off the page]
[Tiny tag: Antinoos, Jack West Jr, Charles Xavier, Trixie!]

honourbyname

When Albus enters the bar this evening for his usual study-break, he's given a list of books from the last time he'd spoken to Claudia along with his usual snack.

"These are really cool," he murmurs to himself, quickly skimming the list.

Already, his Muggle books reading list is growing every time he speaks to someone here, and it's brilliant.

He picks one of the books (HG Wells, War of the Worlds) off the list randomly and asks Bar for a copy.

Then he heads to a table with his new book, his book-bag, a mug of butterbeer and a plate of scones.

a-stori.livejournal.com

Astoria had been quite ready to write Milliways off as some odd hallucination; an unmentioned side-effect of using those Patented Daydream Charms.

(Not that she would ever admit using one of those.)

So imagine her surprise when she walks through the door again, laundry basket in hand, and finds herself back in the bar.

"Again?" she asks no one in particular.

a-stori.livejournal.com

Astoria breezes into the bar, not paying any attention to her surroundings. She is focused instead on her purse, which she is digging through as she walks. Not for the first time she wonders why she thought buying a purse with an Undetectable Extension Charm on it was a good idea. The ad in the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes catalog had made them seem so practical.

But now she can't find her coinpurse. Two books and what she suspects is an apple, yes, but no purse.

She heaves the purse onto the bar with a sigh and only then realizes that she is not in the Leaky Cauldron.

"What in Merlin's name..."

blowupthefloats

Munch is one of those people who doesn't go in for Father's Day. After all, if your father had made you the target of his constant physical and verbal abuse and then took the coward's way out by committing suicide, you wouldn't want to honor the man, either.

Still, considering he's down to work a shift in Milliways tonight, it would be inappropriate for him not to acknowledge it in some way.

Tonight's Specials
Godfather
Big Daddy
All drinks for fathers, grandfathers, godfathers & father-figures half-off for the duration of Happy Hour.

Happy Hour and Happy Father's Day, Milliways! The bar is now open.

[tiny magical tag: astoria greengrass]