milliways_bar | Entries tagged with dib membrane

bigheadedchild.livejournal.com

The door opens, and in rolls Dib, abnormally large head over heels and moaning a little.

He sits up with a wince after a few moments, rubs his head, and looks around.

"Oh. Hey. Milliways."

bigheadedchild.livejournal.com

The door opens, and in steps a small child with an abnormally large head.

He pauses in the doorway, and gapes around for one... two... three... four seconds, and then he GRINS and gives a triumphal whoop.

"I knew I didn't dream this place!"

((tag that's SMALLER THAN ZIM: Wilbur Whateley))

((ooc: IT IS HEROES O'CLOCK. I WILL BE ABSENT FOR AN HOUR.

ETA: ...And back.))

bigheadedchild.livejournal.com

The door bursts open, and a small child with a big head comes rolling in, coming to a stop flat on his face. On the other side of the door, a very angry little purple-haired girl can be seen for a few moments, before the door closes behind him.

Dib groans, and picks himself up, rubbing his head.

"Owww... Geeze, Gaz..."

He hasn't realised where he is quite yet.

kitty-the-wolf.livejournal.com

Kitty loves Fridays. She also hates them. When the show starts...oh, man. That's the top of the world. That's perfection and beauty and grit and she feels like God. Waiting for the show to start is as bad as waiting for the full moon to rise.

That's why her coffee is decaf, and her (rare) steak has as many fork-holes as bites from it.

greatestinvader.livejournal.com

There's someone small, green and yelly over at the bar.

"I SAID FOUR Hydroplasmic thermic disintegrators! They're not to kill anything, certainly not! They're for... ehhhrrr. science! A science experiment, surely you've heard of earth-child school science fairs! Mine's simply far _greater than the usual ones!"

Zim made grabby hands at the bar.

If only the bar had eyes to roll as she manifested these things.

"Thank you! Finally! A fool proof way to destroy..." Zim looked at the bar with a sideward glance
"Deeessstroooy my fellow students' chance for winning the science fair!" He laughed nervously as he took his disintegrators, hopped down from the stool, and goose-stepped off to his usual booth, where, on the table, there was a rather complex looking hunk of alien technology with impossibly tiny wheels.

Bother if you must.

bigheadedchild.livejournal.com

Dib has a problem.

The problem being that, outside of Milliways, all of the data he has collected on the place and the people in it (except for the few little notes he's taken by hand, and it's not like those constitute proof of any kind!) become scrambled, damaged and unreadable.

Once he's back in the bar, of course, it's all fine, but that doesn't do him any good back home.

So he can be seen, frowning over his laptop, trying to figure out what's wrong.

He's fairly certain it's somehow Zim's fault.

He'd be wrong, but that doesn't stop him from thiking so.

irkentak.livejournal.com

Minus one hyperactive/dysfunctional Mimi, the mighty Irken Tak lurks around. A hand on her the handle of a strange ray gun, though this is unconsciously. She had heard from another hyperactive/dysfunctional S.I.R. unit that her ultimate enemy, ruiner of her life, Zim, has been in Milliways.

Tak scowls darkly.

"Ziiiiim..." she growls.

This little Irken is in a fowl mood...

chemist-rani.livejournal.com

Whether she's looking for the Doctor or pointedly not looking for the Doctor is anyone's guess. Either way, she's at the bar with a fruit cup, tea, and a bit of lightly buttered toast. It's breakfast, anyway.

She's also got her datapad with her, blood-red nails tapping away at the screen as she processes the data from her space traveler and some of her experiments placed on other worlds. Good luck trying to read over her shoulder; the language that flashes by so quickly isn't so much sentences as equations.

jonathanparagon.livejournal.com

Should anyone come out to the lake area, there's a young man sitting on the grass, muttering and paging through a thick old book.

A young man with Sime tentacles on each arm, clearly visible as his sleeves are rolled up.

bigheadedchild.livejournal.com

It's been some time since Dib's found the time to come visit Milliways - even if it is undeniably his favoure place in any universe.

The people don't think he's crazy here.

Really.

He has no idea what some of them think.

He also has no idea that Zim has been in the bar.

At the moment, Dib can be found sitting at a table with a good view of the observation window, typing away on his laptop (for what it's worth, he's working on compiling his information on the Irken language), with a big glass of some ALIEN drink (it's bright blue, and fizzy) at his elbow, and a half-eaten pizza on the other side.

He is very, very botherable.

((ooc: for sanity's sake, all threads are millitimed to BEFORE Zim's.))

bigheadedchild.livejournal.com

The door opens and shuts rather abruptly, as a small boy with a large head (currently suffering a visible scrape, and a bit of dirt, possibly with a side of bruises) ducks inside. Someone with a sharp eye might catch a glimpse of an slightly off-kilter ~~school~~ skool hallway, with a crowd of belligerent children approaching.

Dib pauses, panting, his eyes darting about warily, the fight-or-flight instinct quite clearly still active in his brain. Then something almost visibly clicks in his brain, and he relaxes with a sigh.

"Milliways. Huh. I didn't know I could get here from skool. Wish I'd known sooner," he mutters to himself. He shakes his head a little, and then turns, opens the door, and peers out at what he left behind.

He grimaces.

"Great."

little-miss-sue.livejournal.com

Her face is a map of the world
Is a map of the world
You can see she's a beautiful girl
She's a beautiful girl
And everything around her is a silver pool of light
The people who surround her feel the benefit of it
It makes you calm
She holds you captivated in her palm...

[lyrics by KT Tunstall, "Suddenly I See"]

Sue in a bar!

~~[mun at lunch meeting thing: back in 2 hours]~~ [lunch meeting thing ran late and then work was evil: SO SORRY! but back now!]

chime_ra_tilt

((Pre-Milliways Post: The Outer World is no longer out of reach, meaning other goals may be within reach, as well.))

The first thing that Zelgadiss notices when he enters the bar is that it is distinctly not the inn he had been intending to enter.

...Milliways looked far more reputable, for one thing.

The second thing he notices is the rather final note the click of the closing door makes behind him.

The third thing he notices is all the people. In an almost automatic movement, he pulls a fold of cloth up over his mouth and nose, hiding as much of his stone-flecked skin as he can.

He doesn't see anyone behind the bar from whom to order drinks, so he decides to simply take a seat and watch. Perhaps someone knows what this place is.

(ooc: Mun asks for slowtime, for she must sleep. :D)

Current Mood: wary

bigheadedchild.livejournal.com

Dib's been out of the bar for a while. Or maybe he hasn't; maybe he's actually bee hiding up in the rafters, spying on everyone.

Regardless, right now he's sitting at a table, half-way through a garlic-and-pepperoni pizza, nose buried in a copy of Irrational Paranoia Monthly. The cover story is about vampires; this may explain the garlic.

Also sitting on his table is the following sign:

ATTENTION ALIEN SPECIES!
TELL ME ABOUT YOUR SPECIES AND YOUR HOMEWORLD.

Hey, it worked once, right?

mago_sonriente

He trots up to the bar from his booth, placing the brass lock on top of the note before settling on one of the stools.

"Give that to Andrew Wells, mi vida? Gracias."

It disappears accordingly, which leaves him grinning, and then he's down to Serious Business.

"Breakfast before I leave, if you please. I'm going back to the ravening hordes for the day."

Carlos has to admit: the only one who makes better fried eggs and bacon is his mother. It might be better, but he'll never admit that. Some things are sacred and his mother's cooking is one of them.

"Gracias, mi vida."

And lo, there is digging in.

bigheadedchild.livejournal.com

There's a boy with an abnormally large head ~~lurking~~ sitting in a booth. He hasn't been seen lately, mostly due to ~~his mun not braining him~~ being preoccupied with thwarting Zim.

At the moment though, he's fiddling with something that looks like nothing so much as a high-tech, electronic... Tome.

It is, in fact, a spell-drive. It it both high-tech and magical.

And it has a few cast-points left.

If you step close enough, you might hear him muttering to himself.

hunter-legend.livejournal.com

He's been here for a few days.

Looking around, walking mostly, exploring where he can, looking where he can't. He'd been sure not to do anything that might be considered illegal as he figures a place that can pick him right up from a world and bring him to the End without so much as a squeak on the hinges, well... who knows who's watching, who's behind it all?

Wouldn't surprise him if it was God. It's not like He hadn't thrown a few curveballs John's way over the years. And it beat the other alternative that would creep from the back of his brain every so often.

He'd gotten here himself this time, put a bit of gumption into it while he opened the door on his motel room bathroom. It'd taken him a couple of tries but he'd made it. He liked knowing he could get here. On top of checking out the place itself, he'd used that convenient little time loophole to get some research done; after all, if you have an advantage, you use it.

He's decided to take his breakfast in one of the booths instead of taking it elsewhere today, a change from what's become his usual. He's picked a booth that leaves him facing the door with his back to the wall and a few shadows to help people keep to their own business, but that wasn't anything new. He was pretty normal anyway, he figured, compared to some of the folk here (some of whom he was scratching into a too-damn-new journal he'd picked up a while ago) so it wasn't too much of a risk to be able to have his bacon and eggs and coffee pipping hot. At least, he hopes not.

[[ooc: mun is having both work issues and computer issues / slowtime?]]

Current Mood: busy

dark-ex-watcher.livejournal.com

Wesley is still pondering the passage from the Scrolls of Marius that he translated a few weeks ago. He still hasn't had any luck figuring out what the specific connection might be between the Scrolls and Milliways. But he knows the Circle is behind it somehow, even if the details of their plan remain stubbornly unclear.

And so he sips a Lagavulin, late into the night.

irkentak.livejournal.com

Tak is taking a break from working on her robot for the time being.

Sitting at the bar counter, the Irken makes a face at the pizza in front of her as she pokes at a slice with some suspicion. Making sure that she doesn't smoke with pain first before taking a piece of pizza and taking a careful bite.

She blinks in surprise. Most Earth food makes her sick, but then again, this isn't Earth. This is Milliways.

Come bother!

irkentak.livejournal.com

The escape pod has been drifting in space for what has seemed like an eternity for its only passenger. The pod had run out of fuel long ago after being blasted into space by the main Spittle Runner. The escape pod wasn't meant to last this long. Its systems are barely able to sustain life support now.

Hence, the reason why the Irken it holds is just laying inside, suspended in time, almost lifelessly. Though, her mind is whirling with calculations and possible ways to getting back to the planet that is called Earth.

Zim...

He is the entire reason why she is here to begin with! Why she's about to die alone, drifting in space! Why she will never be an invader now!

If I survive this, he will pay... the Irken vows to herself. He will pay for everything he has done...

She is suddenly thrown forward as the Escape Pod lurches hard from sudden gravity. The thrusters instantly blasting with the sudden pull of an atmosphere. The Pod's outer crust heats intensely as the ship shakes with the extreme speed.

The ship's system suddenly starts beeping loudly in warning with blinking red lights. The Irken watches everything helplessly, suspended as she realizes that the pod is about to impact. She couldn't even close her violet eyes as the ship flies through the front door of a building and out the back door in a blur of fiery blue.

Loud scraping sounds against the hull as the Pod digs a large scar into soft earth behind Milliways. Slowing, it eventually to a stop. Half submerged in the lake that is behind the building.

It takes the Pod several moments before a purple light inside starts to blink rapidly before the glass door hatch opens automatically. Soft willows of dry smoke inch out from inside. Finally freeing the Irken inside as she starts to move for the first time in a long while. Only now realizing what had happened. The power supply that the pod had been running on, now gone.

Blinking a few times in surprise, she uneasily stands up to her feet to the doorway of the open hatch. Still weak, long robotic arms emerge from the pack on her back to help with her weight

She narrows her large, violet eyes at the building. Instantly, she knew that it isn't Irken. But it doesn't matter. She must repair her Escape Pod and get back to Earth. There is not only her unfinished mission of filling it with Snaxs. There is also now her revenge on that half-wit, wanna-be invader...

Silently, the Irken known as Tak steps out of the Escape Pod to leave it behind for the moment. Getting supplies and tools is priority. Fixing Mimi, the Escape Pod... Walking through the back door to find...

Milliways.

The bar is officially invaded.

bigheadedchild.livejournal.com

Dib's found himself a good seat at a table - by which we mean that he's grabbed a table right along the path of greatest traffic in the bar.

Atop the table is his lunch, his laptop, several recording devices, and a large sign reading:

ATTENTION ALIEN SPECIES!
TELL ME ABOUT YOUR SPECIES AND YOUR HOMEWORLD.

...He figures in a place like Milliways, it's worth a shot.

gone_byebye

"Wngh," Ray says to no one in particular as he lugs himself back into Milliways from what looks like Manhattan. The phrase 'look what the cat dragged in' almost certainly doesn't apply here, if only because cats are generally just a little too fastidious to bother themselves with anyone as slimy-looking as he is.

No, literally. Like, mucilage kind of slimy.

It's been a long day. But hey! At least it probably wasn't South Dakota!

unwraith.livejournal.com

Sometime after his and Rachel's flight, Michael's at a booth alone, his attention seemingly on the bits and pieces of a com unit that's been disassembled. It's the sort of job he could normally leave to one of the Sword's engineers, except for a couple of specific modifications he wants to make.
It's also a useful if odd distraction, as those go. Talking distractions would definitely not be unwelcome, however.

bring_a_sponge

Look! It's Agent Zed, walking backwards....

"That's it, move it right back this--. For fuck's sake, R. How about we try and get the headquarters rebuilt before you bring the goddamn place down again?"

...right through the Doorway....

"Straight back here, that's it--just a minute, K--over this way, boys, just--."

"Dammit, K, you can wave your arms at me all you want, I can't hear a word--."

SLAM.

"What the f--? Wait, I know that Door--," he turns. "Aw, shit, here we go again."

bigheadedchild.livejournal.com

Dib doesn't have his monstrous information gathering rig with him today, just his laptop.

Upon which he is very focused, fingers moving rapidly, as he processes data.

Don't let the concentration fool you - he's very botherable. Especially if you bring food, because he either hasn't noticed, or is choosing to ignore the rumbling in his stomach.