milliways_bar | Entries tagged with bryan mills

particularskill.livejournal.com

This is getting to be a habit.

Beer. Newspaper. Corner of the bar with a good view of the exits.

There are worse things in life, he thinks.

the_gene_genie

The door opens and anyone near might well get a splattering of cold rain because of it. (Gene will not apologise.) A look of relief comes over him and after he's shut the door, he leans on it a moment and closes his eyes. Just a brief moment. Not enough to make him look like a girl or anything.

At least here he doesn't have to keep looking over his shoulder. A few pints to join the ones he's already had seems to be in order. A weak kind of celebration perhaps, but he'll take what he can get these days.

[Hideout!tag: Gene Hunt]

[OOC: Ahaha, party people. It is past 3am and i have a lot of exceedingly boring work to do tomorrow. So alas, there must be sleep. Me an' my boy thank you for the tags and will be around all day/evening/night tomorrow for tagging back. There must be respite from history homework! *flings love at all*]

raptorcanaria

Dinah is still croaky and hoarse - which is ridiculous, she feels, and she's like to have her voice back in working order, please?

So she's using the excuse to htake a break from crime fighting and hang out in Milliways and get caught up on the paperwork from the flowershop, which needs to be doen on matter how many disembodied brains try to take over the world.

She can be found on a table near the middle of the bar, with a hot lemon tea, a calculator and the shop's ledger, occasionally making throaty noises in that irritating way that comes with a sore throat but not an actual cough.

the_gene_genie

He'd been expecting this. He hasn't been able to go home (again) because of the state of his face (almost better but not quite) and he hasn't paid any cash money for his room and food...or drinks, which total more than the first two put together. So he just sighs when he gets the note and asks,

'Will this make us even?'

No reply from Bar. He could probably work here a straight week and not be even on his tab but that's something to avoid thinking about at the moment.

SPECIALS

Take what you're given without giving me lip, I might knock something off.

He avoids adding 'and won't give you a slap' to the end of it because he's not in the mood for lectures. Though he might stick it on later because the place looks dead today and he does hate being bored. Bar provides a newspaper before going to sleep and he starts reading, leaning on the bar-top and sipping a pint of his own.

[Barman!tag: Gene Hunt]
[Tag of mad world: Brock Sampson]
[Tag of great stink: Vyvyan Basterd]
[Tag of sweetness: Alex Drake]

[OOC: ~~Open until 2am tonight/Sunday morning BST, then slowtime. May be a few short breaks in a couple of hours but from 8pm or so, will be completely uninterrupted. :)~~ YOU ARE ALL COMPLETELY EPIC!! Got to call slowtime for sleep but that was the most fun ever. Thanks guys! Will pick up all slows on the morrow. *MASSIVE HEARTS* :D!]

the_gene_genie

He's not sure whether he wants to be here tonight or not but in the end he decides it is dinner time so he might as well eat here. And seeing as he's had dinner, he reckons a pint or two won't hurt. If anything, it'll distract him from the way this place has really kind of started to piss him off.

Well. Certain people in it, anyway.

[Tag of annoyance: Gene Hunt]
[Hungover!tag: Nicholas Angel]
[Annoying!tag: Floyd Lawton]

[OOC: All threads millitimed to before the one with Urquhart]

particularskill.livejournal.com

Mills settles into his spot at the bar, eyes scanning the crowd. There's something in the air tonight, making him restless. Maybe it's the heat back home. Maybe it's the moon. Something just isn't right and he can't quite put his finger on it.

"Beer, please. Thanks."

Best just to keep an eye out. Just in case. At least here he can take his jacket off, and the locals won't give the .45 in its shoulder holster a second look.

fake tag: Gene Hunt

watching_you

As Veronica enters the bar today, trudging in from the rooms upstairs, her entire body is carried with a kind of anxious energy. Brow drawn, she takes in the whole room with a defiant, challenging glare, as though expecting a fight to break out at any moment.

Upon reaching the Bar, the young woman pulls a pen and a sheet of many-times-folded paper from her pocket. She glances the latter over. And sighs.

Then she climbs onto a chair.

"Hello, everyone? Can I have your attention, please?" When faces turn in her direction, she announces: "Next round's on me. Order whatever you want. Except Atlantean, because that stuff's pricey and I will find you and you will pay."

This said, she climbs back down again and, shaking her head, scribbles out a line on the page.

the_gene_genie

[OOM: Plus ça change]

When he comes in this time, he's much happier than he was last time, which is good. For him, at least. Not necessarily anyone else. And one thing that can be said about Gene is that he's consistent - when he's pissed off, he drinks and when he's happy...he's drinks.

So that's what he's doing, over there at the bar.

[Small tag of copperyness: Gene Hunt]

withahumanface.livejournal.com

[OOM: Your denunciation of Madeleine is a most perplexing one . . .]

Those who know Inspector Javert would almost not recognize the man who sets foot in Milliways today. It is unlike him to be so subdued. He can be quiet, or still, or make himself easy to overlook, but being subdued is not in his nature.

But then, it would seem that behavior contrary to his nature comes more easily to him than it should.

He sits in a quiet corner in the back of the bar, observing the area with far less of his attention than is usual. There are more serious matters to which he must now turn his thoughts.

[OOC: Not plotlocked, but please note that Javert's social skills are pretty rusty on a good day; any threads with people he doesn't know in this EP are likely to be very short. Which I know is a lame way to bring him back for the first time in months, but he'll be feeling much more sociable in his next EP, I promise.]

watching_you

[Elsewhere in Milliways: Following this, Veronica and Mills catch up.

Warning for exposition. Lots of it.]

isaprofessional

There is a particularly well-dressed man in the bar sitting in one of the chairs so overstuffed as to be entirely impossible to find a comfortable position in.

He is also smoking a pipe.

Unassuming, of course, and at the same time not.

If you make the distinction between his current attire and the state of dress he was in during his previous visit, your observational skills are something to be praised.

watching_you

The bar is a busy place, its door constantly swinging. It opens now, slow, quiet, pushed by a cautious hand.

Veronica enters. Her movements are careful, her left hand roaming—door handle, frame, wall—touching each in turn for support. In her right hand she carries a gun, but in an odd fashion, arm stiff at her side; something seems off about the black of her blazer at the shoulder.

It is not until she manages a firm grip on the back of a chair and the door clicks shut behind her that Veronica lets out a breath of relief. It's thin, and uncharacteristically shaky—and her face is growing paler with each passing second.

[OOC: Plotlocked, thanks!]

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Tomorrow Ellen is going to start searching for Vault 112 and her father again. Today... well, today she's got to prepare, because it's much too easy to die in the Wasteland. She's already assembled most of her supplies and laid them out neatly on her table, including quite a few stimpaks and doses of Rad-Away. The preparation is currently taking the form of poring over a geological map of the DC/Arlington area as of 2077 and circling various areas in red. The nuclear bombardment could have changed things, for all she knows, but ... well, it's her only real lead at the moment.

Dogmeat's preparation for all of this is to lie under the table and gnaw on the rawhide Ellen bought him, and occasionally bark at passers-by, because for all that he's a very bright dog, he's still just a dog.

Go ahead and bother them, Ellen won't mind. And Dogmeat probably appreciates the attention.

particularskill.livejournal.com

It's too damned hot to think today. He'd come back from his morning run dripping sweat at seven a.m. and by half passed eleven, temperatures in the Valley topped the century mark. The air was heavy with smoke from the fire burning in the San Gabriels, and his throat was raw.

Lunchtime found him headed for the bar, looking for a cold bottle of beer and a moment's respite from the oppressive heat.

Maybe there'd be a note from Veronica.

watching_you

Disheveled, hurried, Veronica rushes in late in the evening, ( leaves a note, ) and rushes out again.

mnt_mike

Strange things are afoot at the ~~Circle K~~ Bar at the End of the Universe.
The door to the Staff Hallway is propped open and the hallway itself is lined with balloons of the purple, silver, and the brightest of orange. Music of the dance variety can be heard reverberating down the hall. The smell of tasty and delectable deliciousness hangs heavy in the air.

Outside festivity also abounds. The beach surrounding the Caribbean Inlet is dotted with Tiki torches, and a rather sizable bonfire pit appears to have been freshly excavated.

Come one!
Come all!
Eat, Drink, and be Merry for tomorrow the Universe ends....every hour on the hour.... just like yesterday.

watching_you

[Not really Out Of Milliways: Like ships passing in the night.]

[tinytag: Bryan Mills]

watching_you

[OOM: Maybe they should have stuck with the tequila.]

[tag: Bryan Mills.]

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Out of Milliways:

Falls Church

A slim, black-clad form with a featureless gold face ducks through the door to Milliways. As soon as the door closes, it pulls the facial covering off to reveal Ellen's face. "Um," she says to no one in particular, "I don't suppose anyone here knows anything about where I could get my hands on a decent lantern, or something?"

She's heading for the Bar to get something to eat first, but it can't hurt to ask, right?

[tinytag: Ellen (Vault 101 Dweller), Bryan Mills. Spoilers for Fallout 3.]

watching_you

[ OOM: And some of the lights below
Shine directly on the people I know;
Their lives take such strange shapes.
But how together they appear from above --
I guess that could be love.
My friends -- my friends,
I'm coming home.

And then the captain speaks:
"It's clear and 44 degrees."
But I know he means:
"If you feel like dancing
Dance with me."

In which Veronica Mars and Bryan Mills
are mocked, get drunk, flirt, go shopping,
buy flowers, fight crime, sober up,
make salad, tell jokes, lie, worry
and maybe
eventually
kiss. ]

[tag: Bryan Mills.]

particularskill.livejournal.com

It doesn't matter. He keeps telling himself, it just doesn't matter. Kim told him she'd see him next weekend. Really, the zoo would still be there. It was just the way that Lenora had informed him. Like he was an appointment in a book. Not her father.

Part of him thought he deserved that. But it still grated.

Casey and Sam were out of town on a job so he was kind of at loose ends. He had just intended to go for a walk. Somehow he ended up here again. Fine.

"Bar, can I get a beer? Thanks." He took the bottle and glared around the room, looking for a nice quiet corner to disappear into.

[ooc: due to limited cerebral cycles, plotlocked to Veronica Mars]

withahumanface.livejournal.com

[OOM: "Monsieur le maire, that can't be done."]

It has been nearly two years for Javert since he set foot in Milliways, but he doesn't blink as he steps inside today. He is too overwhelmed, can scarcely breathe for the shock he's just experienced.

But shock is momentary, existing only long enough to give the senses time to adjust, and Javert's begins to dissipate with each step that brings him further inside, leaving room for thought:

How dare he? Who twists the law to absolve a criminal, and declares it justice at that?

Ah, but Javert knows who.

His hands are still trembling a bit from shock as he removes his hat and sets it on the Bar, but by the time he has finished unbuttoning his redingote, his motions have become the stiffly measured ones of a man whose temper - which he has always been able to keep in check - is beginning to rise.

Another criminal. That's who. A recidivist. An escapee.

Jean Valjean.

[tinytag: gilbert cocteau]

watching_you

Out by the lake shore, Veronica is jogging, chasing the last hour or so of sunlight. It's a good time to run. There's just enough of a breeze across the water, just enough residual heat from when the sun was high; long shadows stretch across her path like railroad tracks.

No headphones. She gets enough static at work. Her soundtrack consists of gentle waves, feet hitting earth, the steady wind of her own breathing.

[OOC: Sleep beckons! I'll pick up on slowtimes tomorrow morning. Thanks for the fantastic threads, everyone! ♥]
[tags: Bryan Mills, Methos, Izumi Ako]

particularskill.livejournal.com

Mills looks down at the napkin in his hand and then back up at the clock on the wall.

"I guess this is the time and the place."

He lifts the bar top and walks behind the bar, doing a rapid visual inventory. The specials board looms. He picks up the dry erase marker and taps it thoughtfully against his lips.

Specials
Wine
Microbrew Beer
Microbrew Gingerale & Rootbeer

Tell the bartender a good joke, get your drink half off.

"That should about do it."

He drapes a bar towel over his shoulder and starts making sure his glassware is in order.

[ ~~Dive on in, folks! Threadhopping is encouraged.~~ And I'm afraid I have to call time. Thank you all for a lovely happy hour! I shall be continuing all tags slow time. ]

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Ellen's got a ways to go back home before she reaches the Anchorage War Memorial. When she reached the Super-Duper Mart, she took the opportunity to duck through a door into Milliways. She has morning appointments with Mr. Mills, after all, and she doesn't want to miss them. Besides, there were some extremely vicious and territorial dogs on her tail for a good part of the trip, and she needs to wash her hands after having dealt with them. The threat of being eaten by feral dogs does wonders for stifling one's agoraphobia, but when you grow up in a Vault you grow up clean, and there's just not enough water on the surface to tidy up very often.

One young woman in black body armor with an extremely approximate Vault-Tec logo painted on the front where the talon had been, at your service. She's headed for the back door, but she could probably be distracted.

[tinytag: Ellen (Vault 101 Dweller), Bryan Mills]