milliways_bar | Entries tagged with cameron baum

Tom sits at a table for a change, finally catching up on the weekend edition of The Daily Prophet. The cover features the Quidditch World Cup; Tom skimmed the coverage quickly for the contents within.

He never was a fan of the sport. He's not really a fan of the The Daily Prophet, either, preferring the New York Wizarding Times, but one's lifelong habits are hard to break.

He's wearing his usual dark suitrobes, and a scotch is at hand. It's been a long day, he's tired, and the news is- well. It's rarely ever good, is it? Even in these days of relative quiet. He's pleased, as he often is, to have the Underside to call home.

OOC: Any threads will be after the one with Hermione. Dun dun duuuun

Oh, and also? Not plot-locked at all! Reactions welcome!

ol-yellow-eyes.livejournal.com

There is music coming from a corner of the bar, over by the fireplace.

Data is sitting there with his violin, with perfect posture that is clearly not taking advantage of the comfortable-looking chair that he is occupying. He is playing a Mozart piece in E minor to technical perfection, though not with any particular feeling. And anyone with a sharp ear for music will notice that the piano part is missing. (Which is also made obvious by the occasional pause in his playing.)

He keeps pausing at the end of the piece too, seemingly pondering something before he starts it up again.

You may catch him in the middle of his piece, or during one of these pauses. He would not mind the distraction—he has practiced this piece hundreds of times.

[OOC: Slowtimes might be a little difficult this week, but I will pick them up! Open 'til it scrolls. Also: if anyone has another thread with me that they'd still like to continue, let me know! I'd love to. ^_^]

[OOC edit: Alas, I shall have to leave soon. :( I'll pick up slowtimes as quickly as I can. Luv u all! <3]

reallyaduck

Duck's been snoring slightly on a table in the middle of the room, head pillowed on a piece of paper, when -

do you have the resolve, little duck?

- she wakes up with a start, shaking her head to get the last wisps of weird half-memory out of her head.

She was having kind of a scary dream . . . but she's not gonna worry about that! Not when she's gotta write this paper on Swan Lake for class . . . she picks up the pen, with great determination.

(Currently, the paper says Swan Lake is a reelly great ballet.)

[OOC: And I am crashing for the night, but will pick up all tags tomorrow!]

young_tmriddle

It's been a few weeks since Tom encountered Marjory Stewart-Baxter again. It's been fewer still since she laid her eggs in his arm. Tom and Marjory have a long, odd history, but he has been judged worthy of incubating her puppetlings.

He doesn't know this important fact. He does know he's having strange, unsettling dreams of late.

Tonight he's in the bar, because he's done nothing but pace about his study and the family room. He's tidied up enough for Door to start giving him looks. He doesn't know why he's so restless. He also doesn't know why the blasted rash on his arm won't go away. Urgh. He does not want to go to St. Mungo's, but none of his magic or home remedy charms seem to be working. Bloody rash. What the hell did he get into?

veryscaryrobot.livejournal.com

Cameron's spent the past half-hour standing in front of the Observation Window, spine straight, feet (in their motorcycle boots) a shoulder's width apart. Not moving.

Now, obeying some cue visible only to her, she tromps back toward the bar. And stops.

The book she requests is a medical text. It has glossy pictures.

reallyaduck

Duck is no longer stuck as a duck!

She kind of wants to find everyone who tried to help her find her pendant last time and say thank you . . . but there were a lot of people and she doesn't know if she'll be able to see everybody.

This may be a time when a note is in order. Or lots of notes? Duck is currently frowning at a pad of paper, trying to figure out the logistics of how to thank everyone easily, without giving away her secret to the world!

thatinyourpipe.livejournal.com

Most people are less likely to be outside after nightfall. Of course even less on the full moon, but that time was not for another week. The demon bunnies keep many away for fear of bites and burns. A few venture out however.

Those who have no fear of such creatures, or simply don't care. Pan was both, and currently lounging on a thick branch outside, hooves dangling downward casually as he played on his pipes. There was a curious expression on his face, seeming to consider something as he played.

veryscaryrobot.livejournal.com

The door swings slowly open, and a charred boot steps inside, flaking ash and dirt onto the clean wood.

Cameron pauses, and then pulls her other leg forward, hips swivelling. Her face is a wreck; there are two cuts on her forehead, bleeding sluggishly, and her cheek appears to have been ripped open and then stitched shut with something shiny. Her clothes and hair are rumpled and streaked with soot.

She limps steadily toward the bar, gazing -- fixed and unfocused -- around the room.

[OOC: Not plot-locked or anything, but she is not un-dangerous. Feel free to ping me at Misericordian, although be warned that my AIM is extremely unreliable right now. :(]

white_flowers

It had taken some time, and not a little effort (curse the bird and all his ilk), but she had finally managed to shift the color of her dress from scarlet into something much more to her liking -- a rusty red shade, not unlike old, dried blood. It goes well with the soft gray gauze of the cobweb-light veil that shrouds her hair and face, she thinks.

(Her eyes are not hidden by the veil. They never are.)

Blodwen smiles to herself as she walks through the front door and into Milliways once again. She crosses the room with quick, light steps and approaches the bar.

"A pot of tea," she requests, "and a few biscuits, dear, if you would be that kind."

Her order is delivered along with a note. Curiosity flashes, but her patience is hard-learned. She does not open it while standing at the bar, as a result, but instead takes everything to a table before unfolding the paper and reading it in silence.

Some minutes later, she refolds it. It does not seem to trouble her that its edges are now weak and crumbling, flaking away at her touch.

She puts it away in a fold of her dress, and returns to her tea.

[OOC: an important note on appearances.]

veryscaryrobot.livejournal.com

Everyone in the house is asleep -- fitfully asleep, in some cases, but asleep -- so Cameron clomps into Milliways, clutching an iPod in one fist.

Her earbuds aren't perfect, so people in the near vicinity will be able to hear the faint strains of "Poker Face" as she pulls them out to tuck them into her shoulder bag.

mr_gaeta

By the bulletin board, hands in his coat pockets, Gaeta lets out a long sigh and a wearily muttered, "Frak."

(It's the first time he's caught sight of the notice pinned there.)

The victim's name isn't familiar, special skills probably pertains more to the...magically inclined than him, and he wasn't even in the bar the night it happened. Still, force of habit compels him to read the notice two more times; then he glances up toward the rafters without quite focusing on them, thinking it over.

Which means he's lingering at the board itself perhaps a little longer than he should.

[OOC: open until it scrolls!]

[Tinytag: The Evil Chicken]

veryscaryrobot.livejournal.com

It's nearly dark outside, but Cameron doesn't have a flashlight. She's standing not far from where West was killed, and -- apparently -- staring into space, with her back to the bar.

Not moving a muscle.

forced-pilgrim.livejournal.com

For reasons known best to himself, Monkey is impersonating Tripitaka today. He is set up on a mat in the dead center of the room with his bowl in front of him, meditating on a prayer mat.

He is very still, and very serene.

Until the juggling begins. (Where did he get those melons from?)

Watch your back.

winmyeyes.livejournal.com

Who has two thumbs and just showed up to Milliways?

This guy.

For once, he's actually sober (but give him time, it's still early), and he's out in an open field, idly spinning a football in his hands.

Though having a football's actually kind of pointless when there's no one to throw it to.

Care to help him out?

[tiny tag: tim riggins]

[ooc: Repost from earlier, since work kicked my butt a little earlier than I was expecting. Open for any and all tags!]

veryscaryrobot.livejournal.com

After reading Alanna's note on the blackboard and leaving a note for Security, Cameron clomps back to the bar with her math textbook and begins to solemnly calculate cosines.

She's like the low-tech high school version of laptop squatters at Starbucks.

Well. Low-tech in one sense.

veryscaryrobot.livejournal.com

Cameron is doing math homework in a corner of the bar, with a pencil sharp enough to break skin and a textbook that is much less capable of breaking skin.

She doesn't have to trace her circles.

mistressmaryquitecontrary

The Milliways Security force has gone to impressive lengths to preserve the scene of the crime without starting a panic. Their efforts are commendable!

And really, there was nothing they could do about the window of time between the discovery of the body and Security's response, when a thirteen-year-old girl, storming out of her greenhouse in a huff, might stumble across an unpleasant scene . . .

And then spend the next good while being unpleasantly and embarrassingly sick in the bushes, and another period of time cleaning herself off, before marching straight-backed into the bar and announcing in a voice that is not quiet: "I have found a body in pieces out back. I did not kill it, but somebody did!"

[OOC: OK, guys . . . the free-for-all is open. :D Bear in mind that the scene of the crime itself is still warded, and anyone who tries to approach will get a shock! But feel free to react to the news here, to thread conversations reacting to the news, etc. - the post is open indefinitely.]

veryscaryrobot.livejournal.com

It's dark outside, and the lake is an unmoving moonlit silhouette against its shadowy backdrop of trees, grass, and the occasional red-eyed bunny. Mostly unmoving -- every few minutes shadows flicker over it, a little too rhythmic for branches: someone is dancing, halfway between the shore and the forest.

Someone does not seem to mind that the damp grass is a little slippery for bare feet.

majordodo.livejournal.com

Whoever it is that rules over Milliways, Zazu is glad that at least he doesn't have to play majordomo to the noisome little grub.

...ugh, just stooping to taking comfort in that makes him feel unclean. Anyway, so perched on the rim of a ginormous mug of tea on Bar, which was her idea and a completely normal thing for an animal to be doing, he is looking frowny and discontented (as hornbills do). Aside from this Bound business, there's the complacent abducted humans, and what management there is is certifiable unhinged. The place has its good qualities, but it's enough to drive any sane creature mad.

Which is probably why he's molting. LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE.

[tiny toodle-pip tag: zazu]
[open while it's on the front :I]

plays_chess

John walks in through the door, and stops. He looks behind him—it looks like Cameron’s not following. Okay. He can handle that.

(He can more than handle that; he’s not forgiven her yet.)

He closes the door behind him, and settles at a booth, dropping his backpack and digging out some algebra homework. There’s a test in a few hours.

(If he keeps his eyes more on the people around him than the book, well. He’s had a rough week.)

[OOC: John is from s1e05; there shouldn’t be any spoilers as he’s terrible secretive, but fair warning!

Okay, I am going to bed! But feel free to tag while still on the front page! <3]

pictureitsicily

The front door opens.

A little old lady wanders through -- with purpose, and with direction, and with a bamboo handbag over one wrist. She walks with her hands joined.

The surroundings are unfamiliar. She stops, she peers around through her overlarge bifocals.

"I've seen better," she pronounces, and wanders (with purpose, direction, and the handbag) straight to the bar.

veryscaryrobot.livejournal.com

When Cameron stops by the bar, she gets a slip of paper along with her order (which was some kind of pamphlet, tucked immediately into her pocket). She reads it.

A few minutes later, the specials board reads,

Today's Specials
select items for reduced price

Pencils
Absinthe
Chopin

Cameron waits behind the bar and (apparently) attempts to stare down everyone who passes her, like all good customer services providers.

[OOC: ~~I'm going to run out and get dinner in a moment. Will be back!~~ AND BEHOLD, I RETURN.]

veryscaryrobot.livejournal.com

Today when Cameron steps through the door, she's swathed in a too-large policeman's uniform, with her hair tucked under a motorcycle helmet and her eyes hidden behind aviators.

She stops.

Then she carefully removes the motorcycle helmet, tucks it under one arm, and strides, boots clomping against the floor in a steady rhythm, toward the bar.

Current Music: ominous banging noises

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. ]

hands-of-blu.livejournal.com

The Medic's been experimenting with ... it's probably best just not to ask, really. It was medical. That's about as much as people are likely to want to know... anyway,t he point is it's put him in a very good mood, so when he arrives at the Bar and gets the request, he nods. "As you wish," he says to the Bar herself before heading around to chalk up the specials:

Today's Specials:

Warsteiner Pilsner
Schneider Weisse Original
Paulaner Spaten Oktoberfest
Einbecker Ur-Bock
Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier

He dusts off his hands, nods once, and steps away from the chalkboard.

"All right. Vot'll it be?"

[tinytag: Gus Dickinson, Ganymede, Cameron, Urahara Kisuke, RED Spy, Scaramouche]