The Bar at the End of the Universe

The Clock is well past the eleven now. There is perhaps half an hour before the quake is due.

But the more interesting sight is outside. The battle-weary and wounded have returned, perhaps not triumphant against the army set upon them, but with the completion of their objective.

Urza accepts the Armageddon Key -- a crystalline sphere pulsing with the lights of the five manas -- from Gavroche and sprints in the back door, coming to stand before the Clock itself.

Now he just has to figure out how to use the thing.

[ooc: main thread is plotlocked, but reaction tags are welcome.]

Half past ten on the Clock. Eleven soft chimes ringing out everywhere.

Hold on tight. This is it, Milliways. It's the Big One.

A lesser bar would be so much rubble under this intensity. It has been observed a number of times, though, that Milliways is a special place. A unique place. A place worth fighting for, worth dying for.

Even so, the very foundation of the place is shaken. Dust falls from the ceiling as the rafters shake and splinter and crack. More cracks appear in the walls. Anything not tied down or otherwise Charmed is falling, shifting, or flipping.

(Remarkably, the stained glass rose over the bar serenely weathers the motions, almost anticipating them.)

It's almost over... just a couple more seconds.

Then, a sound. High-pitched. A squeak, almost. Or a screech. Like glass straining under pressure.

And ever-so-slowly, the Window -- the Window -- the one holding out the end of the universe --


The tremors stop. The seal holds. The Window does not break. (Not that I would go over and start tapping on it or anything, mind you.)

But the message is clear. Milliways won't survive another one of these.

Apologies for delay... RL sucks....

Urza and his team have left. The Clock pays them no more heed than it pays anything else, which is to say, none.

All it knows is it is pushing for 11 today.

And considering the damage that 8 did last night, it's going to be a hell of a show if it makes it.

The Clock is just a hair before 8 when the eight chimes sound.

It's a bad one. Anything not secured is getting moved or coming down. Fortunately, after all the damage recently, most everything in the bar itself has been tied down or charmed. In the rooms upstairs, even heavier furniture like bed and bureaus are liable to be shifted by the shaking. Visible cracks appear in some of the inner walls as the support studs shift in opposition to each other. Even the support columns shift a couple of degrees under the force.

Outside, the other buildings also tremble. The greenhouse luckily escapes most of the force; however, the stables aren't so lucky. Tack and feeding buckets are thrown from the walls. The holder for the hay cracks and spills some of the contents across the floor. Several of the doors are shaken loose, releasing some of the horses out into the open, while others are merely spooked by the sudden tremors but have nowhere to go.

[ooc: See Lorna's backroom post regarding the stable repair, etc]

The sacrifice of a god is a powerful one indeed.

Though the Clock would have stood at nine today, because of the strength of the offering, it sits at roughly half that.

The clock chimes only five times.

Compared to the previous two nights, tonight's tremor is mild. The walls make no cracking sounds; the windows and dishes rattle right enough, but very few are actually broken. Natives of California, or others used to earthquakes, may barely notice, especially when compared to the more recent quakes.

The only truly noticeable damage isn't to the bar itself, but rather limited to the plume of acrid, multi-colored smoke drifting out from under the door of the magical library. Looks like some of the more magical books were shaken loose and fell in contact with each other. Could be a bit of a mess.

[ooc: Millitimed to about midnight, bar time.]

Bet you didn't know that one of the Loompas was a licensed and bonded electrician, did you? Those correspondence schools really are helpful. (Postage to the End of the Universe is an utter bitch, needless to say, but they have a drop box in Jersey.)

Or maybe the place can repair itself, given time.

Or maybe it's the Landlord.

Or maybe...

Or maybe you don't really care how it happened. But suffice it to say that after a few hours of annoying darkness, the lights are back up.

And there was much rejoicing.

Also of note is that even though the tick of the Clock was notably absent during the blackout, when the power comes up and the sound resumes, the hand has nevertheless pushed onward.