milliways_bar | Entries tagged with april cornwell

iamhismummy.livejournal.com

The door opens and a familiar small figure walks in, looking around the room.

He remembers that a few of his own were here, and he isn't just going to abandon them.

[ooc: this is the post for curing of gasmask zombies, but is not plotlocked! Tag in at will, before or after the cure takes place.]

just_the_doctor

Returning from WWII London with charges in tow, the Doctor opens the door to allow all those from Milliways back into the bar.

"Now, let that be a lesson to you," he chides, still grinning. "No more playing with gasmask zombie children. Got it?"

He looks back over his shoulder and debates going back now. But, hey, he's in such a good mood, and he can just program the TARDIS to let him know in the future not to be here today, so why not hang around a little while?

[tags of tiny: hey!arnold, cal chandler]

artistseyes.livejournal.com

Girl, pad of high-quality drawing paper, and collection of pencils and charcoals inna bar. April's sitting cross-legged in a comfy chair by the fire with one of the bar chairs in front of her and her art supplies scattered within reach. There's a posterboard propped up nearby:

Free Portraits!
Pencil or Charcoal only
See April Cornwell for Details

Feel free to hit her up for a quick portrait. She might draw you anyway if you get anywhere within eye-shot.

gone_byebye

It's been a long week. Ray's finally back from not only meeting the Lemurians, but taking a side trip to Nevada. It's all good.

Well, except for the information Egon got when he visited that hotel in the Bahamas that gave Dana nightmares.

And the fact that six other hotels elsewhere in the Caribbean were apparently designed and built by the same firms, and to the same specs.

And the part where Secretary of Defense Keller had taken Ray's report on the Lemurians as grounds to implement something he called the Waller Protocols, which he strongly suggested Ray read because he was just going to have to live with them whether he liked them or not.

And the news out of New Orleans, since the latest unit of the Paranormal Responder Corps had set up its headquarters and dubbed themselves the Swamp Rats, only to get visited by one of the city's dead within hours of signing on their building.

And the fact that he's now penning a strongly worded note to the Bar staff suggesting that somebody come up with a job that a rather unnerving part-human, part-Great-Old-One could do for a living because a bored Wilbur Whateley is a bad bad bad bad thing.

So really, it's nowhere near good at all. Hence the mug of Ovaltine the size of his head. Lord, he hates mornings.

[tinytag: Alyx Vance]

will_scarlett

Its been raining for the past week in Nottingham so Will beams with gratitude when he finds a door to the Bar.

After a few moments, he is stretched out on a couch with hot chocolate, soup and his cloak drying by the fire as he feels dry for the first time in days.

(OOC: Mun is here, but might disappear to go play with nieces and family so consider this open until it falls off the page.)

artistseyes.livejournal.com

[[Pre-Entry]]

The door of the bar opens, and a young woman with dark hair and a patchwork skirt steps through. This was, given the expression on her face, not exactly the place she was expecting to step through, though that's not exactly a surprise to anyone who knows Milliways.

"Oh. My. God."

Here's a face Milliways hasn't seen in a while. About a year and a half, actually. Come say hello.

((ooc: HALLO MILLIWAYSERS! It's the long-awaited return of a certain April Cornwell, formerly of the journal

fallen_april. I got her a new journal and a new PB (finally found the right one, lol), but she's still the same April, and if your character knew her before, they should recognize her now. Also, I'm at work until 10 EST, but after that, I'll be ALL OVER tagging. ♥ !))

cheevy.livejournal.com

[future!OOM: That Girl - yesterday's echoes are tomorrow's songs.]

fallen-april.livejournal.com

[[OOM: Sometimes, the plans get changed without your permission - April goes to Ray's world and runs into a big problem]]

April is noticeably (to those who know her, at least) absent from the bar. She was supposed to be back yesterday.

Ray came in a while ago, however, looking rather serious, with a few notes in his hand. He left them with Bar. They are for a variety of different people, and most of them have at least a couple tear stains on them.

( Faramir )

( Miniver )

( Boromir )

( Angel )

( Mark )

( Anyone who would ask after her )

gone_byebye

Ray wanders into the Bar in his Green Lantern shirt and cargo pants, yawning hugely and flicking bits of dried ectoplasm out of his hair. Lucky thing the stuff turns to dust on impact once it's dry, or his life would be a lot nastier. "Bar," he says, "I need something that'll make the fact I have to go to South freaking Dakota for the Federal Bureau of Prisons worthwhile. Slimer ate all the Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs when I wasn't looking. Could you..."

And lo, there is cereal.

"Thank you, Bar. I appreciate it."

Yawning some more he trundles over to a table with a good view of the Window. Caffeine works better when taken in conjunction with the ongoing Apocalypse.

fallen-april.livejournal.com

April inna bar.

She's been around, really. A bit homesick as of late, but there's nothing that she can do about that.

Currently she's sketching illustrations to go with the Queen Mab speech from Romeo and Juliet".

Feel free to bother.

give-us-candy.livejournal.com

Lock, Shock and Barrel come running downstairs, followed closely by Tub. The door has been there every day since they came back, and every time they open it, Halloween Town looks worse.

"Okay, let's do this. Yeah, if we don't, it'll kill Halloween Town. And then come after us."

Shock gets up on a chair in the middle of Bar and yells out.

"HI. CAN EVERYONE THAT'S SIGNED UP TO HELP US SAVE HALLOWEEN TOWN PLEASE COME HERE. WE'RE GOING NOW. Okay, Barrel, you stay here, Lock and I are gonna go find people on the list."

Once everyone's ready, Lock, Shock and Barrel (together) open the pumpkin-shaped door that led them out just a few days ago. Everyone takes a breath before stepping out into whatever it is that awaits them on the other side.

~~~~~~~*****~~~~~~~

A few minutes later, the pumpkin door opens by itself, letting out the same small band of champions. At the lead is Tub, who deposits an unconscious woman on the couch before ambling back through the door, which disappears after he's gone, once and for all.

live-infear.livejournal.com

Gordon doesn't generally swear. He does when he walks into the bar, but it's very softly, under his breath. Mostly, his displeasure at finding himself here expresses itself in other ways, the irritated twist of his mouth and the slight tension of his posture.

After standing there in the doorway for a moment, though, he does step inside and go to get a drink. He'd been on his way to get what would probably be bad news anyway, and there was no reason he could see not to put it off as long as possible.

fallen-april.livejournal.com

April inna bar.

Wearing a dress that looks extremely out of date (for her).

She's obviously still trying to get the hang of being in it. Looks like someone asked for a nice, simple Gondorian dress from Bar.

Hey, he put on jeans and a t-shirt for her...

[ooc: LAST CHANCE TO TAG BEFORE HIATUS. Make the most of it. :D]

fallen-april.livejournal.com

April.
(In perriwinkle-grey I met the morning.)
Sketchbook and colored pencils
(In gold I walked the sky through all the day.)
Cocoa.
(By evening there were sapphires adorning)
Kitten.
(Dust my hem had gathered on the way...)

All of these things are on a couch by the fire. Well, the cocoa isn't, it's on the table next to the couch, but as April keeps picking it up to sip at it, it might as well be. She's alternately working passionately on a slowly emerging and beautiful drawing (complete with a rhyme, courtesy of her brother Miniver) and teasing Sontag with the colored pencils.

Botherable.

[ooc: Okay, She's got this post, and I'll probably have an EP tomorrow, and then her posts and tags are going to be few and far between for a couple of months - so tag her while you can!]

slightlymonkish.livejournal.com

Mr. Monk is on a Mission.

He had a terrible night. He dreamt of many things that kept him tossing and turning in his sleep - fresh in his mind was the most intense of them all when he awoke.

Trudy...

When he approaches Bar today, he has only one thing on his mind. "Bar?" he asks, leaning against her surface with a slight frown and a bit of a nervous pain in his stomach. "I... don't know if you can do this, but -- can you maybe give me... I don't know, something that has to do with my wife's murder? I need to know what happened."

A pile of newspapers appear. The headlines of the papers, all front page, read:

Blast Kills Award Winning Columnist
Monk Murder Still Unsolved
Explosion Rips Through Parkade Killing One
Detective's Wife Slain
No Other Links to Car Bombing Suspected

Monk's heart twists, drops and skips a few beats as he stares with horrified eyes at the papers, the words, the photos.

The dates read various days in December of 1997.

Muttering a weak "thanks", he rushes to the nearest table with the stack of information in hand, worried that his legs will give out at any moment. With shaking hands he begins to rustle through each item, growing paler and paler all the while.

Quickly blinking back tears, he forces himself to compose his thoughts and begins to read.

It's going to be a long day.

hysteriaprone.livejournal.com

Roderick's mood, over the past few days, had been improving.

Had been.

When he awoke this morning, his throat had clenched and sent him into a violent coughing fit -- one that produced blood with each choked gasp. Thoughts of Madeline had invaded his mind yet again during the night, plaguing him with nightmares that made him scream in his sleep and sweat cold bullets that drip dropped in his dreams like rain.

But he's downstairs, now, in a chair near the fire with legs curled under his faintly trembling form. In his hands is a mug of tea just warm enough to be sipped at without hesitation, mixed with honey and lemon to soothe his aching throat.

When control is once again beginning to slip from his grasp, there's no hiding it.

cheevy.livejournal.com

Ah so, here is the recovering alcoholic hippie, in the bar, at a booth, with real food. Yeah, totally. He's eating it very, very slowly, but he does have what appears to be a ham sandwich. And tea.

And a really big, really old book, compliments of ~~Nearly Wristless Rod~~ Roderick Usher.

He is also playing with a spoon, twirling it in one hand lazily.

Please annoy.

slightlymonkish.livejournal.com

[oom: You too have rock hard muscles with the Monk Home Gym! Now available for only 4 easy payments of $999.99.]

Some time after working himself into a painful sweat, Monk stumbles downstairs in some SFPD sweats.

He lands in a booth, exhausted and still somewhat breathless.

Maybe he overdid it?

A waitrat scurries over and shakes his little head at him, retrieving a big glass of ice water for our poor, worked out hero.

"Ow..."

fallen-april.livejournal.com

Sometime in the early hours of the morning, after falling asleep for a while in a booth, Princess Sarah Marilla Lucy Pevensie Blythe wakes up and blinks at the door she came through. She wants to stay, but... if she stays, she won't get to go to first grade, and she won't get to write her books and be famous and maybe be in Mr. Mark's movies. So, with her bag of books in tow, she opens the door.

Interestingly enough, at the exact same time, someone opens a door into the bar. The scene on the other side is a strange overlay of a little girl's bedroom and an old industrial loft. As Rilla steps through the door leading into her room, April steps into the bar.

There's a brief moment when they're between the bar and their respective times, when Rilla looks up and April looks down, and their eyes lock, and April blinks in surprise at the familiar face and the familiar bag of books that she notices with a start has the Milliways logo on the side.

And then they've passed, and April turns to look at the little girl again--

--and there's only a blank wall. She smiles a little, fondly, and presses a hand to the wall. Old, long-forgotten "pretends" bubble to the surface of her memory - faded and spotty, but enough to know that she wasn't seeing things just now. She flops into a booth and sends a waitrat off for chocolate chip pancakes and a chocolate milk.

So. There's a boho inna bar, looking much more at peace with life than she had before, eating the same food she was eating yesterday (though it was years ago for her).

Botherable.

Ask her how her trip went, if you knew she was gone.

cheevy.livejournal.com

Here is a Miniver. He's out of the infirmary, but one might say... not exactly looking spectacular.

He's sprawling more or less in a booth. Possibly he ended up here stopping to rest on his way to his room and forgot to move again. Or something.

There's a little enchanted model dragon skulking around the table and apparently trying to boil the glass of water a rat deposited on the table at some point, which is being ignored in favor of a book, which Miniver is sometimes reading, and sometimes staring off into space distractedly.

Come say hi to the recovering alcoholic.

whychoosefear.livejournal.com

Paul and Ali walk in together, chatting quietly about various things happening in the city and with Today For You.

A few moments pass before they are joined by Collins, who seems bemused. More than usual.

The sign is up, refreshments are provided.

Life Support is ready to begin.

[ooc: Everyone is welcome to come to Life Support! Complain about canonical or Milliways happenings, complain about backstory, or, hell, complain about the way the fourth waitrat never gets the gin and tonic mix right. Come one, come all.]

[ooc mark two: Mun shall be AFK at 8:00pm CST for CSI. Will return after that.]

[ooc mark three: I ask that all threads be slowtimed or fade because I am exhausted and overwhelmed by how awesome you guys are. *heart*]

fallen-april.livejournal.com

At some point this morning, a little six-year-old sneaks out of the infirmary, where she decided to sleep last night.

She's in the same outfit as yesterday, and her hair could use a good brushing and being pulled back again, but she's cheerfully sitting on a barstool eating chocolate chip pancakes and drinking chocolate milk.

She's only here for one more day, folks, chat with her while you can!

[ooc: Once again, we have Princess Sarah Marilla Lucy Pevensie Blythe, better known to Bar patrons as April Cornwell. She's gonna be leaving sometime tonight, before grown-up April comes back from her trip, so tag before she leaves! Slowtimes are love if you can't thread now and just want a placeholder. ^_^]

mnt_mike

Behind Bar stands a very very happy ex-turtle. Life, and humanity, have been good to him lately.
How good?
The smile says it all. The smile also warns that what it says is Rated R, and that those under 17 will not be answered with out parental supervision.

"Helloooooooo Milliways. The specials? We don't need no stinkin' specials. Why? Because you're all the special we'll ever need.

Bar's open."

verymodelof.livejournal.com

Danny's sitting by the window, holding up his phone and moving it slowly from side to side, trying to see if he can get a signal. He's having no luck, of course - being outside of the space-time continuum causes problems with cellphones. That doesn't stop him from trying.

"Come on," he murmurs softly, presumably to the phone. "Please?"

lvpd_sidle

One year ago, on this date, Sara was a crumpled sobbing mess on the lake shore, clutching a red spandex costume to her chest.

This year, she's not doing anything so dramatic.

A candle is lit and she stares out at the continuing destruction, almost entranced.