milliways_bar | Entries tagged with artemis

It's beautiful bright sunny day. The squid is chilling in the lake. The demon bunnies are skirting the edge of the forrest, looking for easy prey. And there is a party going on.

Why?

Why not!

Who needs a reason to have a good old fashioned lake party?

Certainly not us!

[OOC: Happy Tenth Anniversary, Milliways! You know the drill! Tag one, tag all, threadhop! Enjoy!]

howling_laugh

[OOM: Coyote (and Raven) Fight Monster Skunk Who Farts Everyone to Death

Warning for violence, some gore, and generally being disgusting. Sorry we're not sorry.]

Coyote and Raven step through into Milliways. The door behind them leads to open countryside, rolling hills and trees.

However, scenery probably isn't the most noticeable part of their entrance. Coyote is carrying a shotgun and a canvas pack with a gas mask sticking out. Raven is streaked with blood and other unmentionables.

They both reek.

"Sixteen drinks," Coyote tells him as the door shuts. "I require a lot of tequila."

mr_gaeta

A loud thump echoes from the vicinity of the front door, as if somebody just toppled off their chair. If you weren't looking in that exact direction at that exact moment, you might think the man now sitting on the floor had one too many and lost his balance. It's a bar. These things happen.

(If you were looking, you'd see the way he seemed to materialize out of thin air, and notice the door flutter open and flutter shut as fast as an insect's wing. The latch connects with a very solid, very final click.)

His Colonial Fleet duty blues are as immaculate as ever, save a giant tear over his chest just a little to the left of center. He's not wearing his prosthetic leg anymore; his shortened pantsleg leaves the knotted scar tissue of his stump bare.

"Oh," he says blankly, blinking up at the lights of the bar.

And then -- just a little -- Gaeta starts to smile.

[ooc: HI EVERYONE. My body's still convinced it's about one in the afternoon, so while I'm trying to aim for a semi-reasonable bedtime...let's be real, odds are good I'll be around for a while tonight. So! Post is open until I say it's not. :D]

callipygos

If you've never seen a goddess cry, it looks a little like this:

A woman's shape, holding a note in one hand. Golden hair spills over one shoulder in a strategic attempt to hide her face.

(For those who know this particular goddess, that right there is your giveaway.)

She's very still. But every now and then, the attentive observer will hear a sniffe, and see her shoulders shake.

[ooc: around and emailable! hit up artistformerlyknownas at gmail dot com if you have questions, ideas, schemes dreams etc.]

callipygos

Oh I don't want a lot for Christmas
This is all I'm asking for
I just want to see my baby
Standing right outside my door

Oh I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
Baby all I want for Christmas is you

Slowtimes ongoing!

callipygos

You'll likely hear the humming first.

"My heart has wings, hm-mm-mm-mm, and I can fly ..."

And then you may see her on the stairs, light of step and fresh as the morning, seeming to cast her own contented brightness. Or perhaps you'll see her when she pauses at the bar for a drink: something summery and sweet and clinking with ice cubes.

"So this is the miracle that I've been dreaming of--"

She is awfully pleased with herself.

Also, her hair has seen less mussed days. Just for the record.

[ooc: hello darlings! sorry to those of us with unfinished slowtimes, it's not you-- it's entirely me and my insane work schedule. eta: closed to new comments, but I'm awake for a little longer while I art and craft!]

crabbycustomer

Before he dragged himself upstairs to dunk himself in nourishing slime, Karkat put up a fresh copy of his announcement:

( ATTENTION BAR DENIZENS )

He is available for pinging any time after sundown; before that, he is sleeping the sleep of the heavily medicated.

fromadistance

This is not his bathroom.

Clint frowns, closes the door and opens it again; the possible hallucination is still there.

He's definitely not that tired.

He's also not really -- okay, so he should probably find something to wear other than a nearly-dead t-shirt he refuses to get rid of on principle and boxers, so he pulls the door to, not closing it but almost, and steps into the first pair of pajama pants he finds.

(It turns out to be the Captain America pair. Whatever, they're comfortable, Natasha thinks they're funny and doesn't mind being blamed for their existence.)

Then he opens the door again, thinks what the hell, and steps through.

hopeitsworthit

Dean only sleeps when he passes out these days, and it takes more and more booze to lay him out every time.

That's fine.

What's less fine is that he can only stay asleep for so long before the dreams -- hell, call 'em what they are, which is to say memories -- drive him back into waking.

Those times Dean really doesn't want to sleep again.

Which is why he's seated at a booth, hands cupped around the biggest mug of the strongest coffee he could find.

Well, that the waitrats could find. Man, those little guys can get anything.

It's kinda awesome when it's not frickin' creepy.

Go figure.

untiedtheknots

The bar may still need some cleaning up, but it's here and so are its patrons, and for that Artemis is grateful.

So she's trying not to take it too personally when it feels like the one person she hasn't seen since the almost apocalypse is the person she wants to see most.

She scrounges up a bar napkin and a sharpie; moments later, the following is tacked to the notice board:

HAVE YOU SEEN PAUL AVERY?
If so, please contact Artemis. (Yes, that one.)

Now there's nothing to do but wait patiently(-ish). Artemis takes a seat at the bar, swiveling slightly back and forth on her stool as she watches the room.

howarewefortime

T H I N G S F A L L A P A R T

T H E C E N T R E C A N N O T H O L D

howarewefortime

In the beginning, it was a nice day.

This is a word which here means 'pleasing', 'agreeable', or 'delightful', so it may come as a surprise to you, dear reader, to hear the day described as such, given the situation in Milliways these past two weeks. But then, 'nice' is such a relative term, don't you agree? And certainly it would be difficult for things to get much worse.

So it is: the unnatural winter outside seems a touch less chilling today, and the blood-red sky perhaps a shade less bloody, reflecting pinkly off the glittering frost and the shallow snowbanks. The general atmosphere inside the bar is a little less oppressive - a mood helped, no doubt, by the fact that this morning, Bar got almost every coffee order right. Even the Observation Window seems to be creaking a tad less oppressively.

Maybe, just maybe, everything's going to work out okay.

[OOC: Millitimed to Thursday.]

song_tra_bong

Natalie took one look at the unexploded ordinance out back, and turned right the hell around. She's got slightly less than no idea what the hell is going on here, but she has her service pistol on her and a few more weapons (mostly Covenant-issue, mostly with a little of their former owners spattered on them) in a cache upstairs. For now, she's just going to sit here and enjoy her beer. (Even if it's not the brand she asked for; she's pretty sure it's not even Human--the buxom barmaid on the label has tentacles.)

Artemis tried to bring one of her hounds with her today, but Tanis drew up short on the threshold and refused to budge, snarling up a storm. Artemis let her stay behind, but not before retrieving her bow and arrows. They're propped up in the corner of her booth, while she sips from her flask. Nothing wrong with being prepared.

And, last but not least:

Mary Anne freezes two steps in the door. "What the fuck, you guys? I leave you people alone for five minutes..."

[ooc: AAAND WE ARE PAUSED FOR MUN!SLEEP. POST STILL OPEN.]

untiedtheknots

A week ago, Artemis had a dream.

She scrapped her road trip plans right there, bailed on the motel room and caught the first plane out of Huntsville.

For the first time in a long time, she went home.

(Her mother didn't ask. She simply pointed out that the spare bedroom was already made up and dinner would be ready in an hour.)

Now, she's back--out by the lake, with the collar of her shirt turned up against the evening chill.

She is looking at the stars.

(You could probably join her. She won't mind.)

[ooc: post open until her next one. have at, kids.]

untiedtheknots

[oom: "Istrus, however, says that Artemis loved Orion and came near marrying him.

But what she did after his death, we shall tell in the stories about her."]

howling_laugh

[OOM: Halloween. The barriers between worlds are thin- especially if you happen to have a key to a certain door. Welcome to Alaska, and to Raven's housewarming party.]

hopeitsworthit

There are days that it really ain't worth getting out of bed. Dean's kinda hoping tomorrow isn't gonna be one of those days, because today was pretty shitty.

Goddamn crazy-ass shapeshifters turning into movie monsters is no one's idea of a good time.

And the lederhosen just add insult to injury. He's gonna be so glad to get back into his regular jeans and --

Yeah, he was definitely not lookin' to show up in Milliways tonight. Dammit.

One slightly cranky Dean, clad in lederhosen, strides toward Bar. Maybe he'll be able to negotiate some real clothes out of her.

Preferably before anyone he knows gets a look at him.

[ooc: And I am collapsing. I shall pick up tags and slowtimes tomorrow! Thank you all for tagging! <3]

howling_laugh

Coyote comes into the bar with a small stack of envelopes in hand. She hums cheerfully to herself, flipping through them before dropping them off with a fond pat to Bar's surface. She's out just as fast, shutting the door firmly behind her.

They are addressed to:
( Raguel, Puck, Havelock, Mary Anne Bell, Mal Reynolds, Lilly Goodfellow-Kane, Alanna of Trebond, Merriman Lyon, Ray Stantz, River Tam, Kali, Castiel, Nita Callahan, Artemis, Kaylee Frye, Epimetheus, Lan Mandragoran, and 'Loki' )

[OOC: Coyote is not in for tags! But feel free to use this thread to pick up invitations, or leave questions for her, stupid or not. Also, if you got an invite, please head on over to this backroom post!]

noble_6

The Sabre Program is winding down. The specifications have been finalized, all internal systems are up and running. They'll be sending Natalie somewhere else soon, and she can't say she isn't ready for some good old fashioned trigger pulling. On the other hand, they loaded up the full complement of Sabre's weapons today and Natalie got to take her out for target practice. She's still grinning when she takes a seat at the bar to order dinner.

The Fourth of July celebrations have gotten started early in North Carolina. Somebody must have cleared out the fireworks stand down the road, based on the amount of explosions Artemis can hear from her house. The noise has done nothing but spin the girls into a steadily bigger frenzy, so Artemis brought them to the bar to run into out of there system. Conclusion: one goddess, sitting on a rock by the lake shore, with six hounds running in varying degrees of proximity. Two of the dogs are fighting over a stick; the goddess has a beer.

nita_callahan

Saturday, April 17th, 2010 is a little chilly in New York, a little drizzly, and Nita could not care less because it's her twenty-first birthday. That's right: the big one.

Her friends, including Carmela, took her out to dinner at a nice Italian place, where she had her first glass of Shiraz and her first glass of Riesling. They'd tried to talk her into going club-hopping afterward, but she begged off, telling them she had someplace else to go tonight.

After all, she spent some pretty formative years at that bar at the end of the universe. It just makes sense that she go there when she's finally of legal drinking age.

So Nita walks into Milliways wearing a skirt, leggings, and a red halter-top (for once un-self-conscious about the scars on her forearms) -- and just slightly giggly from the wine earlier. She's heading straight for Bar, trying to figure out what the heck she should order. Carmela's trailing behind her playing chaperon, similarly dressed up but sober.

ikissdhimbck

[following this...]

Somewhere nearby there is a horrible crash!

Oof!

THWAP

crunch

Aiiieeee!

A fight has broken out and it's quickly spreading, sucking up more and more people as it goes along. Someone goes tumbling headfirst over a table.

Was it yours?

[ooc: BAR FIGHT! Mod approved and open forever. Bring out your scrappers and pugilists, or stick your lovers under the nearest table! Any and every one welcome! Open forever! Go here for more details. :D]

golden_lyre

Valentine's is one of those days that Orpheus would really rather didn't exist. He's been getting better in recent centuries, but he still has the tendency to spread his foul mood to everyone around him.

Having found himself in Milliways tonight, he's secluded himself in a dark corner, away from most of the crowds.

Being Orpheus, however, he can't help that he's pulled his guitar into his lap and started to play and sing, the music creating an aura of pain and melancholy around him. Walking past, you may find yourself longing for a love you lost through no fault of your own, or perhaps overcome by guilt for having driven someone away (or merely failed to save them or keep them), or angry at those around you who seem to be perfectly happy with their loved ones, or maybe you just feel inexplicably and overwhelmingly lonely.

Or maybe you're of the sort that isn't affected at all, and you only feel pity for the musician, who does, it must be said, look utterly miserable.

tobeclosetohim

Jo's late. Again.
She, also, has a cold.
It's a bitch of a cold, too.

Halle--fucking-lujah to you, Milliways.

Her special board is easy tonight.

Specials
86 my cold & get free drinks all night

She's done with this shit.

noble_6

The engineers have started construction on the first prototype. It's not anywhere close to ready--more like the outline of an aircraft than anything else--but it's exciting all the same. She spent most of the day nosing around the manufacturing hanger until they shooed her out from underfoot. (Not that anyone really shoos a Spartan, but Natalie took the hint well enough.)

When the bar showed up in her bunk again, she took the opportunity to grab some dinner. At present, she's trying to sketch the design for the Sabre from memory.

Mary Anne has a nice house and in it is a nice kitchen. She doesn't make use of it very often, but she figured Thanksgiving was a nice time to change that.

She has tried to make her mother's stuffing three times today, with increasingly disastrous results. At least the pie turned out alright. She has a seat at a table and a glass of tequila to soothe her wounded ego.

Thanks to a combination of millitime and Coyote's fantastic stash, Artemis is sprawled in one of the booths with a platter of sweet potato biscuits. She takes her time buttering one, humming to herself.

[tiny tag: Noble Six

howling_laugh

Finally some good luck this month. The coyote pups were safely installed on a wildlife refuge in Southern Arizona, and she was no longer a single mother. Or, foster home. Or, whatever.

Anyway.

Then, this guy came to her garage, totally desperate. He really needed to get his bike fixed, so he could get to an...important business meeting. Except he didn't have any money. What he did have was a lot of really high quality marijuana and a willingness to barter.

And now, Coyote has more than five hundred dollars of said weed (tied up neatly in a plastic bag) sitting in front of her on her table.

She is looking at it, clearly amused. She may or may not have already partaken. You takes your chances.