milliways_bar | Entries tagged with daniel jackson

The machine waits, it sits in the corner near the piano and the jukebox blending in and watching for its moment.

Cassian walks in from a busy street and slips his way through the crowd of Milliways towards the counter, but there's a turn he didn't expect. Then suddenly he's holding a device and singing. When he tries to stop singing he can't so he sings along with anger in his voice, he hates being the center of attention.

Well, no cannonballs did fly, no rifles cut us down
No bombs fell from the sky, no blood soaked the ground
No powder flash blinded the eye, no deathly thunder sounded
But just as sure as the hand of God, they brought death to my hometown
They brought death to my hometown, boys

No shells ripped the evening sky, no cities burning down
No army stormed the shores for which we'd die, no dictators were crowned
I awoke from a quiet night, I never heard a sound
The marauders raided in the dark and brought death to my hometown, boys
Death to my hometown.

They destroyed our families, factories, and they took our homes
They left our bodies on the plains, the vultures picked our bones

So listen up, my sonny boy, be ready for when they come
For they'll be returning sure as the rising sun
Now get yourself a song to sing and sing it 'til you're done
Yeah, sing it hard and sing it well
Send the robber barons straight to hell
The greedy thieves who came around
And ate the flesh of everything they found
Whose crimes have gone unpunished now
Who walk the streets as free men now

Ah, they brought death to our hometown, boys
Death to our hometown, boys
Death to our hometown, boys
Death to our hometown, whoa!

When the song ends with a dramatic flourish, he stumbles to a table as the karaoke machine moves to its next victim

OOC: The Karaoke machine is awake. I'm going to set up threads for others to sing and to watch in horror. Open to any reactions or to make your characters sing whether they want to or not. Tag in wherever works. And open for ages. Link in post leads to a video of Bruce Springsteen singing.
Tiny tag: Cassian Andor

i_am_your_host

Emcee makes his way to the karaoke machine where a song is waiting for him.

He stands at the microphone, in a sparkling silver jumpsuit with flared shoulders, and tall red boots. His hair is slicked back, and he bears on his face a multicolored lightning bolt.

A quiet rock intro begins to play. Emcee begins to sing.

"In the velvet darkness of the blackest night,
Burning bright, there's a guiding star
No matter what or who you are..."

( Read more... )

[OOC: Link goes to YouTube video of Alkaline Trio's cover of "There's a Light" from The Rocky Horror Picture Show.]

quick_clean_pure

This really wasn't a great day to get chased by the cops.

Not that any day was a great day for it, but still.

Graverobber hustled through a long string of alleyways with a sense of urgency and annoyance. Really, he'd done pretty well this week, his pockets filled with a decent amount of change. If he'd been smart, he would have rested on his laurels, had a good night out with some satisfied customers. Going back to the cemetery for one last supply haul had been a little greedy, come to think of it.

And, naturally, he'd made it about ten feet into the graveyard before a GeneCo SWAT team descended and he was sprinting back the way he'd came.

He could hear the sound of boots getting closer than he'd like, even if he knew his way around the back alleys better than most rent-a-cops. Graverobber was getting closer to his own normal haunts, and he really didn't want police swarming his usual set of dumpsters and trashcan-fire campgrounds. In a split-second decision, he tried an unfamiliar door and lucked out to find it open. He ducked inside and slammed it shut behind him, figuring he could find a place to hide in whatever warehouse/machinery/abandoned hellhole he'd just broken into.

And then he looked and saw....a bar?

Not even a shitty dive bar like he might have anticipated finding, a nice bar. Since when did his area of town have one of those?

Stranger still, he couldn't hear any boots behind the entrance he'd came in, or the sound of anyone running past. Weird.

The more he looked, the more he got the vibe that he'd stumbled on something more out-of-the-normal than he could have reasonably expected. If nothing else, the spectacular view of the stars was something he'd never seen before, not in the light-polluted shitscape he'd known his whole life.

But, more important matters had to be focused on: he should probably act like he was supposed to be there, right? Or at least not act like someone who was kind-of, sort-of, absolutely a wanted criminal fleeing the law. Probably also not like someone who had a dozen vials of grade-A painkillers jangling around the inside of his coat.

So, for the moment, he just sidled up to the bar top like he'd just happened to wander in completely on purpose. If the bartender asked, he'd order a cheap beer and act casual until he knew where the hell he was and whether the cops were about to barge in.

run_barry

Barry is lounging in a comfy chair with a Gameboy. Yes, an actual, beastly grey brick from a bygone era Gameboy.

It's so retro!

It's also been Cisco'd.

Kicked back on the cushions with his long legs hanging over the arm of the chair Barry is playing Tetris, but the game is basically Tetris on crack. It's totally exercise and training for him, testing his cognitive and problem solving abilities at super fast speed.

That's the line he and Cisco used with Dr. Wells and Caitlin, at least, and they actually won the argument with it, so yep, Barry gets to play Tetris and call it hero training.

For once he's being mindfully careful, holding the game over his chest so that he's the only one who can see the screen and no one should be able to see just how fast his thumbs are moving.

He hasn't bothered with ear buds, though, so sorry to anyone who gets the music stuck in their head.

notyourproblem

Unlike the previous person to step through the door today, Mycroft does so with very little fanfare. He gives very little away when he realises that something is seriously wrong right now, but those who know him might see the quick cycle of emotions: confusion, anger, doubt — all at once, and very quick.

Either he has been drugged, or...

Or what? Places don't just become random other places at a whim.

Mycroft Holmes is not amused.

childofrebellion

When the door opens to Milliways, Cassian is in his captain's jacket and slightly cradling his left arm as well as carrying a datapad. Outside the door, there's the rumble of ships and the friendly grumbling of workers along with the beep of droids.

As he comes through the door and noise around him shifts, he glances up and nods to himself before settling on a couch that has a good view of the Bar then orders a caf from a rat. He has to put this report together and decide where to go next and he's technically resting his arm, so Kay won't have another reason to complain.

Tiny tag: Cassian Andor

dataexpunged

It was the lack of sound that he noticed first. Not that the noise outside his door was usually all that loud, but it was expected. Every 15 minutes the guard on duty walked past. Every half an hour, the rounds lined up so two of them passed at the same time, and they usually said hello to each other. At least once an hour, someone would knock on his door.

But something was wrong.

Dr. Alto Clef, currently of the SCP Foundation glanced curiously at his door. Was someone setting up a prank? He briefly checked his calendar, another four months until 050 was up for grabs again... But certain people didn't care about that.

He eased up out of his chair, lick his lips. Nervous? No. But sometimes-

He ran his hands across the front of the door, a frown on his chubby features. Did it feel warmer? No, just his imagination. Was someone giggling? Wait, that sounded like bottles clinking... He glanced at his trusty shotgun, then shook his head. No, not this time.

Carefully easing the door open, he looked out... and stood stock still, staring. "Huh. Class S physical location manifestation, in my site? Likelier then you'd expect..." He sniffed the air, and smiled. "And that's some good booze, too. Huh."

He could stay in his room, call some people, get it taken care of... but where's the fun in that? The best way to learn what a skip does is to explore it.

So, he makes a quick note on his desk, in case he doesn't come, and swings the door open wide... before stepping back, to grab his trusty ukulele. Then he steps forward into this brave new world, crying his world famous battle cry: "Konnie, you rat bastard, I know this is your fault!"

darklighthero

The hero (or was it anti-hero) held his hands on the wheel as it made marks through the forest on a very Expensive dune buggy. Kliever would probably kick his ass on the spot if he noticed the man taking it from the Wastelands on a off road adventure to ... Where the hell was he anyway?

The car stopped at the bar as Jak pulled himself out and dusted himself off. A bar would be a great relaxation for the time being.

"Daxter?! HEY DAX! Where are you? Did you go in here?

The anti-hero had guns a plenty on his back, along with various other goodies as he walked inside expecting the crowd to attack him on sight.

"I'm looking for someone, 2'0 feet tall, orange... Have you seen him?"

On instinct, the man was reaching for his gun.

(Meet Jak/ Mar everyone!)

Current Mood: angry

my_brothers_shadow

Things are well in Rollo's life. The people of Kattegat no longer look at him with scorn and soon they will be going back to Wessex. Better yet, this time Rollo will be joining them, a chance to gain back the riches he lost to his foolish grab at a better standing with Jarl Borg. While publicly things are not ideal with his brother, are in fact strained, privately they are much better. He can live with this. There is a purpose.

And now he finds Milliways again, and in time for food. And perhaps a little drink. Bar provides booth but also a book. It seems she has not forgotten his wish to learn to read. This book is strange. Brightly painted, it seems to feature a creature like a man-bear.

Carefully, and haltingly, he reads aloud:
Winstre fôtswaðu
Winstre fôtswaðu
Rihte fôt
Rihte

Fôtm¯æst dægrima
Fôtûhtsanglic niht

Winstre fôtswaðu
Winstre fôtswaðu
Winstre fôtswaðu
Rihte

[OOC: In and out with meetings, but I need to get my grove back. Translation of Old English provided by Lingojam. Also, the translated text if from Dr. Seuss' The Foot Book, with some guessing. I do not pretend to know or understand Old English, so apologies if my work is bad. =)]

crabbycustomer

Karkat's goal for today is to review the entire animated catalog of the Walt Disney corporation and select an appropriate film for a date with Nepeta. He takes this seriously, and has jacked his mobile six-legged laptop into the holographic project and is going full Minority-Report on the data over here on the couch.

Disney princesses and sidekicks dance over head alongside boxart, paragraphs of synopses, and increasingly esoteric errata such as the original fairy tales, history of sequels and alternate envisionings, details on the creation and different types of animation, and in a tiny minimized floating tab, supposedly secret pornographic messages hidden in the footage. Data segments fly around in a quality parody of the hi-tech data sifting montage you've seen in a dozen movies, fully crafted and realized by your imagination. Yeah. Like that. Man.

Romance is incredibly serious business.

just_cant_lose

Almost a week ago, a package was left at the bar for Feuilly. Today, he picks it up.

Someone watching from a very safe distance - or who has placed certain technology in the package: we'll never know - might learn that this inauspicious delivery prompts a conversation out in the stables. It goes along the lines of 'ugh, another message from the king? Leave it, we'll deal with it later.' Because it is, after all, a beautiful day and Feuilly and Hotspur had plans to ride out and enjoy it. Which they do, leaving the parcel on the floor.

Some ten minutes later, there is a very loud explosion. Loud enough to be heard in the bar, and across the grounds. It's followed by the sounds of distressed animals, and the smell of smoke.

Hey, Milliways? Your stables are on fire.

[OOC: please see Back Room post here for brief recap details. EP open for however long anyone wants to play. <3]

littleyellowboxes

The front door opens. There's sounds of chaos and a firefight from outside, shouts, and a vaguely squishy THUNK.

Then a BOOM loud enough to rattle the silverware on the nearest tables.

"Ha! Maybe that'll learn ya!"

Continued gunfire suggests that it has not, in fact, learned them. Moments later, the world famed mercenary DEADPOOL staggers into the bar. He's tall! Strong! Manly!

Oh god, he's a little on fire. And possibly covered in blood.

It's fine. That's why the outfit is red!

"Cool! Hallucinatory bar." He manages to haul himself up onto a bar stool, and promptly stares off into space. Not that you can tell with the mask.

venerable_ibis

Djehuty has been contemplating the Door that appeared in his palace for quite some time now. (Since the moon set 29 and a half days ago, to be specific.) It's not every day that something magical shows up that he doesn't immediately understand. And this Door has peculiar qualities, in unutterable dimensions. It takes a lot of contemplation.

Today, he steps through.

Invisibly first, of course. That's plain common sense. But the Door opens onto a Library, a Library of immense power and magic, and it would never do to offend whatever god might dwell here, so he soon takes form and utters a courteous salutation.

Nothing happens. Nothing continues to happen.

So now there is a tall ibis-headed gentleman picking his way through the library stacks, pausing to touch a book now and then, and periodically looking around and hopefully calling, "Hello? Hello-o-o!"

((It's Thoth! Can we say that all threads after the first are happening millitimesily post-introduction-to-the-place?))

penderwydd

Tegid was outside today, the weather was good and warm. He was sitting in a clearing in the woods, a small grove that he had found when he had been new to Milliways. He would have been naked, but he knew how many here felt about nudity in this place, so he wore just his bracae. The rest of his clothing was folded up nearby and his golden rod and harp were placed on top of it. His eyes were closed and he meditated.

Death sat outside as well, only he was near the back door. He sat at a pick nick table and munched on a variety of food that could be see as summer food. He had removed his jacket and it and his silver topped cane sat on the bench next to him. Death was enjoying the nice day.

Daniel and Vala were actually inside today, he was trying to get some paperwork done, and she was determined to annoy him. She did many things and some of it worked.

Please tag someone, even if it is just to save Daniel from Vala.

i_am_your_host

When the Master of Ceremonies approaches the bar, he's presented with a heart-shaped napkin with a note on it.

Happy St. Valentine's Day! Be a sweetheart and take tonight's bartending shift, won't you? XOXO

"I would be delighted, my dearest," he croons warmly.

With pink chalk, he writes on the specials board:

Gin
Vodka
Brandy
Schnapps (pineapple, apple, cherry, peach)

Then, pouring himself a glass of gin, he nimbly hops up onto the bar and sits with one knee drawn up, his other foot swinging free. Leaning back on one hand, he raises his glass to the bar at large.

"Come, my darlings!" he calls cheerfully from his perch. "It's happy hour, time to get drunk!"

witchfinder_general

Father Harman is at a table today, taking notes in a large black Moleskine. He doesn't have any books or other materials with him; he's simply writing down thoughts, brainstorming, or mind-mapping.

On his table, he has a pot of tea; if anybody come to talk, they're likely to be offered a cup.

father_chris

[At the end of the battle, Jack sets things right with Gene, and accepts his fate.]

At some time around midnight, a much relieved and restored Father Christmas pops in, down the chimney.

( Tass, Death, Duster, Invincible, Sariel, Sonya, Matilda, Rikki, Daniel )

And then the man in red disappears off in a hurry, to put Christmas right.

skeleton_king

The Pumpkin king is at a table near the bar, with a rather quizzical expression.

He has in front of him a singing Christmas tree, which he hasn't yet worked out how to shut off. Every time he moves, it bursts into a new song.

This gift is not pleasant.

He gets a box of matches out of his pocket, strikes one, and puts it to the singing tree. There is a rather satisfying 'Whooomf' noise, and the tree melts into a pile of plastic.

He blows out the flame with a mighty puff, then slides the melted plastic into a box. Who wouldn't want to see one of these things destroyed?

The rather acrid smoke that just wafted across the bar doesn't seem to bother him at all.

bprd_agent_red

Agent Tom Manning the director of the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense recently received a brand new laptop. State of the art technology, sleek customized design, and encrypted with the government's secrets about who and what goes bump in the night, it is most certainly a high dollar figure piece of equipment.

Said laptop is currently in the hands of Red who is parked on a sofa chair, his feet propped on a coffee table, his tail hanging over the arm, with a pile of candy bars and a bag of Cheetos close at hand, watching cat videos.

Right now he's watching this one, and cracking the hell up.

"It's a duck! AHAHAHAHA!"

If you don't understand why this is funny then he really can't help you.

1stwitness

The door opens onto an underground room - a basement or cellar, but from the brief glimpse anyone gets, fitted out like some kind of mystical prison - and Ichabod walks through somewhat shakily.

He doesn't waste time going to the Bar and ordering a very large rum, of which he knocks back almost half in one.

There are marks on his neck, if anyone gets close enough to see, that look very much like fingers.

[ooc: We are now entering the latter half of S1, otherwise known as 'Ichabod is not allowed to have anything good happen to him ever'. Send him a friend?]

lt_blade

When Sonya found herself in milliways, she's still on a crutch, but a single one rather than having to use two. She's in the bar especially just to have a break from military bureaucracy and from men that she's sure are good, but not for the Special forces. It's one of the few times she' hates her job.

She doesn't mean to stay long, until she finds at her table a cocktail napkin saying that it's her turn for happy hour.

"This is your condition for letting me stay those past few nights?" Another napkin appears with a smiley face. "Find, but I do get a choice of what goes."

Finding a book of cocktail recipes under the bar, she gives it a quick look over before writing out a selection on the board.

Happy Hour Specials:

Bocca Ball
Presbyterian
Gin and Tonic

Non-alchoholic beverages:
Fountain drinks
Coffee
Tea

20% off for Military Personnel (please show ID)
'additional' 10% off for any interesting 'scar' stories.

A random selection of drinks to be sure, but she wasn't in the mood to select anything more complicated, and she definitely wanted people to know there were non-alcoholic drinks to be offered.

lt_blade

Sonya breathed a small sigh of relief when the door to the barracks entered into milliways. Now of all times, she needed what the bar could offer.

She hobbled into the bar, her left leg in a cast while her other leg was bandaged-both of which compelled her to use crutches. There were other injuries, but they were all covered by her dress uniform though it was clear to anyone who looked that her movements were a little stilted from things other than her legs. Also by her shoulders was a military issue duffel back, which made walking with crutches all the more tricky, but like hell was she going to ask for assistance.

Damn dress code, the hell couldn't she wear combat boots with her dress greens like the guys? It'd be easier to walk on crutches with a boot than it'd be for a black pump heel.

Slowly, she made it over to one of the tables, resting her leg cast on another chair. In the bar proper, it's clear she's just been through a lot: she doesn't look like she's gotten much sleep and her expression is cold and barely holding in together. Part of her wishes to just get a room, but she needs to sit down a moment.

"Bar..can I have a room for a few nights, please?" She takes out her wallet as she says this, but a note appears telling her not to worry. Sonya would like to protest, but she doesn't have the energy to do so (neither the mental or physical energy)

A frown appears when a bowl of chili and corn bread shows up infront of her, along with a pepsi. "No.." Another note. It was true she hadn't really eaten much in the past-she lost count, but she wasn't sure she could stomach chilli.

Instead of eating it though, she spends the next ten minutes moving the food around in her bowl.

ooc: soldier-in-mourning, in very much need of some company and/or hugs. Will be on serious on/off slowtime for the next several days, but wanted to get this posted.

diehard_daniel

Daniel stepped in a bit stiffly into Milliways. He had been hit with a large bolt of electricity a few weeks ago and was not feeling 100%. At least the EV suite he had been wearing, stolen from some Asgard (long story), had taken the brunt of the bolt. He'd be dead otherwise, again. He dumped his books on a table and headed toward the Bar. It had been a long time, he wanted to say hello.

ol_yellow_eyes

Data is in the turbolift on his way to the bridge when the door opens into Milliways. Other than a blink and a quick intake of his new (but familiar) surroundings, his facial expression does not indicate surprise of any kind. But truthfully, the bar's appearance was not a possibility he had considered today.

It has been a while since he has been seen in the bar... His last memory of it is human and faulty, to the point where he has honestly wondered if such events occurred at all.

He chooses a table near the door and sits, looking around the room for familiar faces, quietly observing others that are unfamiliar.

[OOC: Open 'til I say so! I might be kind of slow as I get my brain back, so bear with me.]

[OOC2: Sorry for getting behind... I'm going to declare all these threads faded. Contact me if you'd still like to slowtime; I am open. ^^]

undeniablestyle

You can probably hear Dumbledore coming as he carries his cup of tea across the bar this evening. Humming an upbeat sort of tune.

You’ll have to pardon him. He has a bit of a song stuck in his head.

The Hufflepuff – Ravenclaw Quidditch match came off today, you see. And some of the students had composed a victory song for the occasion, which they had been singing with great gusto when they thought no teachers were around.

The lyrics had been appallingly off-colour. But the tune was certainly catchy.