milliways_bar | Entries tagged with audrey parker

There is only so long Audrey can sit at her desk before she has to pull out that picture of the woman who looks like her mother and still know nothing more than she did the moment she first saw it.

Combined with how her favorite work jacket is starched hard and making her arms itch, while everyone in Haven is pointing out, only now, that she should have taken it to Landon's Dry Cleaning and not Shirley's, it's not a great day.

One Audrey Parker, nursing a martini and a frown on a bar stool in Milliways.

dont_feel_it

The third time he closed his front door and opened it to find the bar stubbornly existing between him and morning (Bronco, pick up breakfast and coffee because Parker's got no idea which places to hit or which folks behind what counters respond best to flattery and which would rather save the small talk and he's sick of getting stale pastries and the last dregs of an old pot of coffee), he accepts the inevitable and goes in, but there's nothing that says he needs to stay inside, once he's gone to the bar and picked up a paper cup of medium roast. Outside, it's almost as crisp as Haven's mornings, and the grass wets the toes of his boots as he heads down to the little beach, folds up lanky legs to sit in the sand and consider the water.

There's something unsettling about there only being one little while boat bobbing in the blue water out here. Part of Nathan twitches to find a harbor master, improve the nonexistent mooring line (especially if whoever owns it plans to keep her in through late fall), check on how the thing gets launched or taken out each season without a ramp.

But the larger part is simply soothed by the sight of a little white boat, bobbing in blue water. It's one familiar thing in a world that has gone unequivocally bonkers.

The coffee he's got cradled in his hands helps, too.

srspirate

What is this?

A lively tune?

Your host is inspired to dance!

Those who enter the bar today may notice more than the usual commotion. There is music, a table tucked in a corner for receiving gifts, and a festive banner. It has flamingos on it. Pink ones.

In addition, there is a modest sandwich board set on the Bar with the following proclamation in festive script:

La Fête Spectaculaire!
Dinah Lance Party
Anything served in the half-shell is free
Do try the coconut punch
Follow the rose petals
➸

A scattering of rose petals lead the way outside, along the path to the beach.

(OoC: Welcome to the cross-community going away party/housewarming for

innerbrat & Dinah Lance! [details and announcement] This is a standard party post; shenanigans and thread-hopping are encouraged. For your convenience, an OoC thread has been set up at the end of the post for communicating, plotting, and sending some OoC love and well-wishes to the lovely Debi. Debi and I can be found on AIM as well and in crackchat off and on all weekend. So please stop by! Thanks everybody, let's have some fun and show Debi some love. ♥

ETA: Just as an aside, the "bring a present or duel" thing was entirely for the lulz. Your pups aren't obligated to one or the other unless they want to, and this remains completely open to everyone! XD)

cook_the_rude

Outside, in the afternoon and evening, there is food to be had.

The air smells delightful, of smoke and garlic and fresh bread, and there are two large, globe-shaped charcoal grills set up on the lawn, one red, one green. On a nearby table shaded by an awning, bowls and coolers keep food and drink ready; a stack of square plates and another of drinking glasses await the guests and passers-by.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter, in shirt-sleeves and apron, at first fires up the grills, then watches the flames burn down to usable temperatures while sipping a drink (and making them for the earlier guests), later, he will sprinkle hickory chips and put the meat on the red grill, the vegetarian options and vegetables on the green one, cut bread, serve salad (kept cool) and an interesting beetroot gratiné (kept warm) with the meat, and still provide drinks, and conversation.

There is a sign:

Bastille Day Barbecue -- Drinks:

Blueberry Mojitos
Kronenbourg Blanc
Provençal Rosé wine

Orangina

Somewhere on the table, Dr. Lecter's iPad is playing light baroque music. At the other garden tables, small flower pots and citronella scented candle glasses are awaiting guests taking their seats there.

[[meta: invitations were here, but anybody can drop by unannounced. as agreed, this doubles as today's happy hour. please to thread-hop outside at the tables! enjoy yourselves, as nothing here is people, except the actual people eating the food. for context: talking meats with steve, and halloumi with sunshine.]]

((temporary note: the mun must sleep now, so hannibal will answer all his tags in my afternoon tomorrow. new threads still welcome. do threadhop and tag among yourselves, please!))

27yrsandwelldoitallagain

Audrey's got a cup of coffee.

Also, a speculative eye toward the tables and shadows.

She hasn't seen any more baby-headed spiders, but she wasn't expecting the first one until it crawled across her lap on her first day here, either. She's, understandably, wary about that happening again. Or anything like it.

[Tiny Tag: Audrey Parker]

27yrsandwelldoitallagain

[OOM: Time travel. Magic. End of the universe. Demon bunnies, and a squid. ]

"There's a bar at the end of time."

"And space."

"And space," Audrey added, corrected. Not looking toward her partner or drinking her coffee. Still stuck on looking around the room in front of them, again, with its many different people coming and going. "Huh."

"Yeah." Towards Nathan's own cup, one elbow leaning on the bar, one eye on the reflection of the room in the mirror above the liquor shelves.

Two for the price of one! Won't you come welcome Audrey Parker and Nathan Wournos, Milliways?

[Tiny Tag: Creepy Doll]

gammagammahey.livejournal.com

Normally, Jennifer Walters always has a somewhat stable portal to Milliways from a certain infamous restaurant in New York City. It's a gamble; half the time when she opens the door to Pascha's she gets Milliways, and the other half she gets five star and five alarm tandoori chicken, pakoras, and naan. Either way, she usually has an interesting time.

So when Jen opens the door to the shower in her quarters aboard the giant S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier currently floating above the fine state of Nevada and finds Milliways instead, there is an expression of surprise, which rapidly morphs into suspicion. Naturally, finding that whiplash in the space-time continuum is now invading S.H.I.E.L.D. premises on St. Patrick's Day gives her pause.

Well, she'd desperately needed a shower after her adventure in the streets of Reno an hour ago with a three ton Abomination, but a cold beer does sound appealing. Therefore, a She-Hulk wearing her blue ops jumpsuit, covered with pulverized concrete dust and grit streaming from her hair, makes her way to the bar.

Once there, she removes a small metal and plastic comm device from her ear, holds it between thumb and forefinger, and crushes it to a fine dust with a slight compression. Then there is a distinctly satisfied smile.

There. Off duty, officially.

[[OOC: I have to beg slowtime, guys, as of 1:00 AM PDT, as I'm blind with exhaustion. All new tags will be answered on the morrow! Or, er, later today, rather. ]]

othercaptjack

So.

Rum, right?

Rum goes with lime. Mmm, excellent with lime. So it follows that lemon's good too, yeah? Lemon and lime. Classic. And rum. And in a nod to the weather, which is decidedly gray, make it a hot drink. And maybe... something to add a bit of spice. Cinnamon, cracked vanilla pod, and a hint of grated ginger and fresh chilli.

This is Jack's drink.

This is Jack. Captain Jack. Harkness, for clarification, lounging in a booth with elegantly booted feet up on the table.

And a smile.

[OOC: ~~Mun, unlike Jack, is not feeling too good. Hence, if craziness follows, all responsibility is disclaimed. If I stop making sense, send me to bed, yeah? And not in the Jack sense of the word, either.~~

I die slowly, without ever having truly lived. Well, no, but I really should be in bed, 'cause it feels that way. Slowtimes, please? *Runs*]

callmefelicia.livejournal.com

Adam appears from his room, after spending most of the day moving his stuff into Thomas' apartment, and goes to write on the chalkboard.

This will be my last bartending shift before I head on out of here. So you get an early Happy Hour. Enjoy!

Leaving Las Vegas

Bye Bye Bahamas

Party to Go

End of the Road

Then he stands behind the Bar and waits.

callmefelicia.livejournal.com

Adam's around, lounging on a barstool with a vodka tonic, in plain clothes today, watching the room.

He always welcomes company, whether from his friends or strangers.

callmefelicia.livejournal.com

Adam is behind the bar, having finally remembered that he does actually have a job here.

Have at!

burned-them-all.livejournal.com

It's probably been far too long since Gwen's made an appearance, but as no one is clocking her every move, they'll likely not have noticed that she hasn't been eating either.

Or keeping up with her tab, but that's another matter entirely, and one she's decided not to worry about until she absolutely must.

In the meantime- she has returned to the bar, selected a booth, and settled in with her usual book of poetry (mostly because it's familiar and gives her a sort of purpose.) She's usually open to company though. Especially if they're buying a round or two.

callmefelicia.livejournal.com

After this, a week or so ago, and this, this morning, Adam drifts downstairs, smiling.

He's indefinably calmer than his usual hyperactive self, and may have one or two hickeys in evidence.

Come chat.

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

It has been quite sometime since she has been in the bar though to her it seems to have been mere days.

When her eyes adjust and she notices where she is a smile grows wide across her features as she takes up a comfortable seat by the fire. Looking most friendly this immortal would most enjoy some conversation so come and chat.

callmefelicia.livejournal.com

Felicia is behind the Bar, for the first time in a little bit.

She's keeping an eye out for Thomas or Amanda, but is more than willing to be distracted.

What'll it be?

callmefelicia.livejournal.com

Adam comes in, cheerfully enough, and heads over to perch on a barstool and get a Coke float.

He keeps half an eye out for Thomas, as he almost always does.

song_tra_bong

Mary Anne's down in the bar tonight, seated on one of the couches. Two things are out of the ordinary in this picture. One, she's got a cast on her left hand. Two, she's drinking water; alcohol doesn't mix well with her pain meds.

She doesn't look adverse to company, but good luck if you expect full details of what happened last night.

callmefelicia.livejournal.com

Adam/Felicia has been in the bar for more than his bartending shifts of late, honest. You just haven't seen him.

He's been quieter than might be expected, after all. The whole "addicted to an incubus" thing.

callmefelicia.livejournal.com

Adam emerges from the staff quarters, not in a frock for once - it's way too hot to dress up - instead shirtless and bandana'd. He bounces over to the Bar and gets ready to start his shift.

He is observed. By beady little eyes. Two pairs, in fact. One of the owners of which also has wings. Please insert your own ominous music of choice here. He notices them after a moment, and peers. "...hi there."

"Hello."

A second's blinking later, he falls back on his actual job, which is to serve drinks. "Anything I can get you?"

Ducky tilts her head deliberatively to one side. "No thank you, I am fine!"

Petrie flutters up to click along the Bar towards Adam, peering at the rag in his hands. "What are you doing?"

"Tending bar, little buddy. You okay there?"

"We are very well, thank you. Or... I am. Petrie, are you well?"

"What are you doing?" That comes from the other side of the bar, from a small orange Triceratops accompanied by an equally small, but silent, Stegosaurus

"Talking to the human-bartending!" Petrie chirps. "Hello Cera, hello Spike!"

Ducky peers into a bowl of bright pink cherries. "What are these?"

"Cherries", Adam tells her. "Fruit, you'd probably like them." He tilts his head at the small creatures, getting an idea. "...hey. How'd you guys like to help me out tonight?"

"Help out?" exclaims Cera. "Would you let us?"

"Is it the same as help ing?" asks Ducky, proving that even tiny minds can produce terrible puns.

Adam cracks up. "More or less, yeah. Come on up here."

"Okay!"

[ooc: three muns, four dinobabies, one human bartender. Have at!]

callmefelicia.livejournal.com

Adam is behind the Bar, giving her a hopefully-comforting polish with walnut oil.

Have at.

callmefelicia.livejournal.com

Adam is behind the bar, wearing the skirt Angel gave him, a flouncy white top, and an orange bandana.

Come get drinks!

callmefelicia.livejournal.com

Adam is behind the Bar.

Have at!

callmefelicia.livejournal.com

Adam is behind the Bar, ready to take orders.

Have at!

callmefelicia.livejournal.com

Adam is behind the Bar, wearing - for those who can see it - the skirt Angel gave him.

It's knee-length, pleated, and blindingly pink, with some black lines randomly cutting geometric patterns on it.

Come get a drink!

awesome_lilly

[OOM: Millitimed to this evening, a party is beginning. Invitations have been liberally distributed, a sign was posted, and there was even an ad in the Say True. Everyone over the age of consent in their home universe is invited, and formal dress is suggested.

(The real dress code is whether it'll get you by Raph.)

Madame Lilly's Delicate Flower brothel is officially open for business. Please feel free to stop by. ;-)]

OOC: MASSIVE slowtiming will occur, as one of the whore-muns isn't even here yet. Please feel free to tag in any time, it'll all be summarized and relinked in the end.