milliways_bar | Entries tagged with cable

There's a table full of stuff sitting in front of Domino. It's all neat and orderly, but it's still a lot of things. A belt that is essentially made of pouches is being methodically emptied. A neatly folded uniform has already had its pockets emptied, and is sitting on the opposite side of the table from her.

Her rifle occupies a chair, and three empty magazines are sitting neatly lined up in front of it.

The stacks contain a variety of things, mostly first aid supplies, bullets for guns she doesn't have on her, and one pouch devoted entirely to gum and a pair of sunglasses with lenses big enough to hide her tattoo.

Among this orderly line-up of Domino's possessions there is not a single bullet for the rifle sitting next to her.

Eventually she acknowledges this fact, and begins repacking her equipment, looking thoughtful. Normally she leaves when she runs out of bullets. Now there are reasons to stay, but she tends to try to follow her own rules. The decision isn't going to be made without a drink, so she turns to a passing rat and asks for a beer.

balancingminds

Charles enters the Bar and is barely aware of the difference as he pulls off his robe and finds a seat. As he walks, he keeps his eyes as closed as he can and navigates by the feel of the minds as he just ran into an awful anxiety dream, which has left him feeling like the floor's moving.

Once he's reached the counter, he puts his head down on the rolled up robe and takes a few deep breaths before lifting his head.

A glass of Scotch is at his elbow and he manages a smile but doesn't open his eyes too much. He's just going to focus on the little realities and block out the world until he feels certain that he's in control. Scotch with ice, the surface of the counter, all of these are real and apparent.

Tiny tag: Charles Xavier, Nathan Summers
OOC: At the moment, Charles has the majority of his shields up and isn't actively listening to minds. Also I'm reaching my max of tags with him, please contact me before tagging.

andproud

This time, Raven marches into the Bar, sans her brother.

A napkin appears to greet her moments later.

"Really?" Beat. "Sure I will."

Specials
Mai Tai
Manhattan
Margarita

(And then a little further down - )

Blue Colada

It is her favorite color, after all.

[ tiny tags: charles xavier, raven darkholme ]

[ ooc: Tag in, tag each other! ST/LT welcome and appreciated. ~~Open for tags until this reads otherwise.~~ Closed to new tags. ]

fallsinplace

Domino is sitting at the bar again, even though there's no bartender. She's not drinking, instead she's reading a book she'd kept tucked in her belt during the previous day's meeting. She knows she could ask for any number of amusements from the Bar, but she's not in the mood. A nice, relaxing book is all she needs.

She looks quite pleased about something, but it's impossible to say what or why.

nathansummers

Nathan was at the bar, idly drinking a beer, ignoring the bustle around him. He had done a bit of helping around the place, cleaning up, and he had been working a lot at home, as well, until recently. he'd brought in the beer, somehow. He wasn't sure exactly, but it had come with him.

A little distraction, and a little beer, felt good. Seeing as how he should be dead, had even maybe died, he wasn't exactly sure why he was in Milliways. Either way, he was glad to see the place. It had been entirely too long.

A beer, a cooler full close at hand, and a Cable, sit at the bar.

fallsinplace

Domino wasn't expecting anything but a cup of coffee and a book to read when she went to the bar in the evening. She'd spent the day relaxing in her room, and she moved with much less tension than she had in the days just after her arrival.

When the Bar produced a cupcake for her, Domino didn't know what to think about it. The numbers on the top were the most curious part. She didn't know her real age, and had spent years adjusting her guess. At the moment she was 24 for the third straight year. Not only was the number on the cupcake more than 24, but it was also a decimal, which confused her.

But it was chocolate, and she wasn't going to look a gift cupcake in the mouth.

fallsinplace

Domino was surprised when the bar took the place of her new quarters. She smiled at the sight of it, pulling her gun off her shoulder. "You're just lurking around every corner." She went to the bar, setting her gun on top of it. She blinked as the gun disappeared, but when it was replaced with a note promising to return it, she just chalked it up to the no violence policy.

She ordered a green tea and a sandwich, wondering if Cable would be finding his door soon as well. The Bar had a tendency to pull them both in at the same time.

She looked around for familiar faces, interested in socializing now that her life had settled down a bit.

nathansummers

[OOM: At the end of an endless year of lies and deception, Cable survives an explosion.

After that, he confronts a duplicate, rescues an old friend, and faces death, twice. It's an average day for Cable and Domino.]

nathansummers

Coming into the bar, stalking, angry, wearing battle armor and weapons, was a Cable. Cable was, right now, not very happy. Mainly, this had to do with finding out his longtime friend, partner, and sometimes lover had betrayed him and his elite fighting force.

It hurt worse because of how much he trusted her, and how much he knew her.

But the moment he entered Milliways, he stumbled, then cursed, and headed right for the bar. "Flonq real world me. Damn stupid kid. I can't believe he... I didn't see this coming!" Arriving next to Bar, he patted her surface. "Hey, Bar. I need some help." Carefully, he unloaded his weapons to her surface, and smiled. "Could you hold these? And I'll need a very large beer, a rubber hammer, and a clue."

Bar took the weapons and left him a tankard the size of his shoulder, which he grinned at, as well as a toy sized hammer, and a small box which proclaimed the word 'Clue!' on it's side. With a shake of his head, he sat down and just downed part of his beer. Maybe if he got drunk, he could ignore the insanity back home.

waxwontbeenough.livejournal.com

The ever exciting merry-go-round door to Milliways opens and today it opts to deposit a redhead in a striking black and green ensemble. Her hair is a true, bright red, and she's got the slightest dusting of freckles to match over the typically pale white skin that most authentic redheads have.

She turns and looks behind her, then turns back to Milliways, staring at the patrons in suspicious fascination.

"Jamie Madrox," she mutters, likely inaudible except to those with super hearing. "If this is one of your stunts, I'll kill you with no remorse."

Since she's here, her professional demeanor takes over and she decides to give Milliways a brisk and thorough inspection. With all the other dimensions that the X-Men and X-Force have stumbled upon, she's less flustered than most new patrons would likely be.

The first thing is to search for other members of the extended X-family.

"Pardon me, but can someone tell me where I am?" she asks the bar at large. Her accent is Irish, softened perhaps by years of living in the United States but still there.

No Irish Spring jokes, please.

[[OOC tiny tag of lost but fiery redheads: Siryn; tiny tag of tiger: Tiger Cub

Post is open forever.]]

fallsinplace

Domino is dressed up. It wasn't her idea, but she can't get out of it. Bar has decided that a skirt is sufficient embarrassment (for now), so she's simply in a purple dress with gold accents. It's not as showy as some of her costumes have been, but she still feels a little awkward in it.

Though that clears up when she hits the bar and is given a tall glass of bourbon. She snorts a bit, taking a drink. "Well, if I can't be on Bourbon Street, I guess I should at least enjoy a drink with its name."

ncdcas-cable.livejournal.com

Somewhere, deep in the snow, a man is having fun. Clad in red clothing, but nearly covered in the snow, so as to appear white, Nathan is carefully aiming as a missile hurtles toward him. With only seconds to go, he fires, and the missile explodes into white puffs, which blow away in the snow's winds. He grins and, as he had before, focuses his telekinesis to call up another snowball, this time sending it arcing up and away.

He lifts the weapon in his hand again and adjust the controls, then fires, and the snowball, 30 yards away, and moving fast, is clipped, and spins away. He growls at that and re-calibrates, then sends another snowball hurtling. Another wait, aiming, tracking, and firing, and the ball disintegrates as the force beam reaches out and hits it square on. Nathan laughs. A nice day today. Not only is this fun, but the gun, which had been a failure and a pain in the ass for years, is finally working!

A few more of these, he decides, and he might head inside for a beer.

Maybe.

For now, another snowball hurtles up and away, on a new trajectory, and he begins to aim...

ncdcas-cable.livejournal.com

Somewhere, outside, Nathaniel Summers, sometimes called cyborg, sometimes known by the name of Cable, lit by only occasional flickers of light, moves through movements as old as his memories. Stripped to the waist and sweating, and not feeling the cold, he moves, the patterns collecting in him like a song.

The light comes from a small lantern, it flickers across him, lighting the metal that makes up part of his body. His face is calm, as is his mind, as he lets himself dive into the patterns and lose all else.

ncdcas-cable.livejournal.com

Nathan sits at a table, and above that table, quite a few guns are being stripped, and cleaned and rebuilt.

His left arm gleams, looking like a stack of cables in the form of an arm. His left eye glows softly as well as he manipulates the guns.

There is a pistol, a rifle, a sub-machine gun, and several futuristic weapons, all going through the process. He grins. Maybe it is cheating, but he enjoys doing it, and the challenge it represents.

ncdcas-cable.livejournal.com

Near the lake, a man moves. Stripped to the waist, Nathan Summers, the Askani'son, called Cable, practices the moves of the long-dead, never-formed order.

He moves smoothly, going from form to form, sweat gleaming on his body and even his techno-organic limb. He exercises on a flat area, his eyes focused on what he is doing, his mind centered on old precepts and new.

He has been back home, and come back to Milliways again, several times.

He has things to do, elsewhere, but for the moment, all of that is lost, submerged, in the joy of movement and of form and function, of stretching, almost to pain and maybe beyond.

ncdcas-cable.livejournal.com

Off to one side of the bar, Nathan systematically cleans and oils several pieces of equipment, of the shiny variety. He is smiling as he cleans and humming as well.

He has been in a good mood for days. So far, no doom has intruded.

ncdcas-cable.livejournal.com

Nathan sits in a booth stretching, feeling oddly lethargic this morning. After another aging spurt and a short night's rest he isnt in pain right now, but he is feeling out of sorts. He watches the bar crowd with a puzzled frown and sipping a beer. His left eye glows blue-white the whole time.

ncdcas-cable.livejournal.com

The ceiling area seems a nice place to be. And what is a little brother to do when he thinks his sister has a good idea? He copies it, but with his own style.

So there is a cyborg, working on refitting a gun from his century, whil sitting on air, next to the ceiling.

ncdcas-cable.livejournal.com

Nathan is out by the lake, staring outward into the night. As he watches the stars reflect from the waters, he smiles slightly. The night air, cool, feels good against his skin and he is nicely tired and content. He has been exploring the back area today. After a few hours of that, he is smiling, a little, for this is positively the most peaceful place he has been in, in a very long time.

So, cyborg mutant not!hero, lakeside, night.

ncdcas-cable.livejournal.com

Cable sits at a booth and watches the Bar. He is systematically taking apart and oiling several weapons. One is a modified short nosed machine gun, but the others are from his particular future timeline. On occasion, some of the parts he is cleaning move, seemingly by themselves, to his hands. While he cleans the guns carefully, oiling each part, he watches the bar and thinks on recent events, his left eye glowing faintly.