milliways_bar | Entries tagged with domino harvey

thiefprinceremy.livejournal.com

Some time during the afternoon, two completely different people, upon noticing that the bar had been unmanned for quite some time, came to the exact same conclusion and had the exact same solution.

So it was that Remy LeBeau, Thief turned Delicate Flower, and Domino Harvey, model turned bounty hunter, found themselves behind the bar at almost exactly the same time, there was a quiet discussion and an agreement was reached. The specials board was written up and they both took an end of the bar.

The board, for the curious, read as follows:
Specials for the moment
1/2 off any drink ON FIRE
1/2 off any drink we don't know by name.
All tips benefit charity

So there you have it, ask for one, ask for the other, don't ask for anyone and see who you get, fun for the whole family!

assassinbourne.livejournal.com

There's an assassin in a bar.

He's looking over Top Secret documents at the moment, brow furrowing slightly. The folder holding faces he didn't know in them. Faces that were there but weren't. And it was starting to give him a headache. Especially when each one that he looked at had the word 'terminated' on it. These were...

Yeah, someone can distract him from his thoughts and the headache that's starting to come from trying to force the memories to the forefront.

heads-you-live.livejournal.com

To say that Domino had had a craptastic day would be an understatement, and also slight misinformation.

Most of the day had gone just fine, but things had gone downhill, and fast, once people had started shooting, because that was exactly the kind of thing you did when you were out shopping with the kids.

Luckily no one had been seriously hurt, and not too much property damage had been done, but she still had an almost visible dark cloud over her head when she banged through the door, surprised to find the bar instead of her apartment, but not about to argue, dropping into a booth and ordering a beer for each hand from a waitrat.

Botherable, if you don't mind the surly.

heads-you-live.livejournal.com

It had been a while since Domino had been to the bar. A while and a couple jobs at that.

Today seemed like a fairly normal day, as far as 'normal' ever went for Domino anyway. She was settled at one of the smaller tables with a cup of coffee, an ashtray and a set of throwing knives that she was sharpening, carefully, one at a time.

Nothing like having your own personal time-shift bubble to be able to take care of your weapons in a timely manner.

She's totally botherable all the same.

young_womble

"Underground, overground, Wombling free,
The Wombles of Wimbledon Common are we."

Sings a little voice under the table.

Wellington's winding wool into balls.

maybeblink.livejournal.com

(OOM: In which there is cuddling between Abigail Whistler and King, and maybe brief romance, but that's to be expected. That was last night)

Hannibal King had spent the night at the bar, and was planning on spending another couple nights, just to heal a bit from the wounds he sustained from his current fight. Current - meaning that it was still waiting for him on the other side of the Door.

Anyway, he really never got much chance to rest, and he'd been complaining about needing to take a vacation from oh, you know, everything for a couple months now. So hey, he got his wish!

He had rented a room, slept rather soundly, considering the situation, and wandered back down the stairs in the morning before ordering a breakfast of ham and eggs, coffee with lots of sugar, and a bowl full of fruity pebbles. His mental excuse for the large breakfast that he was a growing young man and he NEEDED the food.

But now he's outside, with a jacket he ordered from Bar on over the clothes he came in with, enjoying the autumn chill of morning, and - yes, his mental age is 10 - watching his puffs of breath with slight amusement as he stands out at the lake.

Impromptu vacations are good, and he knows Abby won't mind the company.

heads-you-live.livejournal.com

Domino cursed when she found the bar instead of her room, and cursed again when the door refused to open. She glowered at it, then sighed, shaking her head and going to get a bottle of whiskey from Bar before sulking her way to a booth.

She dropped the combination sewing and first aid kit on the tabletop and dropped into a seat, unwinding the hotel hand towel from around her arm, wincing, just slightly, as it stuck in the mostly-dried blood. She grimaced then, shaking her head and taking a slug of the whiskey before setting to work with an alcohol swab on her arm.

heads-you-live.livejournal.com

Domino had a job to gear up for, so she was taking full advantage of the timeslip in the bar to clean her guns. She'd taken over a booth, toolbox on the seat beside her, spreading an oilcloth out to work.

The Colt was always first, after all it was the only one she really considered hers since it was the one that had been a gift. Domino, it should be said, had an ... interesting sense of propriety.

Feel free to interrupt though, she'll be more than happy to talk.

(Recycled EP, but still good as new! Please, recycle your unused EPs, it's better for the environment if we don't clutter up the landfills with ... okay, no idea where I'm going with this, shutting up now)

salver

Bobby doesn't look up when the door swings open -- he just pushes it on past, eyes on the huge book open in one hand, palm cradling the spine, thumb and fingers supporting each side.

Click, goes the door behind him. And as soon as it closes, Bobby looks up.

(Peripheral vision: what's around him is not the shed, and the locked cabinet with the book he's looking for. It's a damned bar.)

His eyes narrow.

The noise the book makes as it closes isn't quite as sharp as the click the front door made -- but it's still sharp. Bobby tucks the book under his arm, and heads for the bar. Only one way to figure out how the hell a bar turned up in his back shed, and that's by getting some information.

gavemea_45

There are a lot of animals in the bar.

Sam notices this as soon as he comes downstairs. He stops, grinning, and looks around for the cause-- although as to what it could be or what he could do about it he hasn't a clue.

It's not the only thing he doesn't have any idea about these days, and that thought is enough to wipe the smile from his face. Sam claims a beer from the bar and settles himself at a booth with his laptop, John's journal, and a stack of notes.

I've got to figure out a way to help Jess. I've got to.

[ooc: just as an fyi, not only does Sam not have a working plan, but neither does his player! not yet, anyway...]

falconryu.livejournal.com

Ryu is outside; even if the full moon is past, the moon is big and clear enough to light up the lake area in a very nice way, so he is taking advantage of it to train. Soon enough he will be joining a war, so his skills must be kept honed, nd improved upon if possible.

Right now he is doing an elegant, fluid kata, practicing his favorite moves.

heads-you-live.livejournal.com

Domino was surprised to find the bar, she clearly hadn't been expecting it, reading over a file in her hand, only realizing where she was when she bumped into a chair that shouldn't have been there.

A quick series of expressions flitted across her face, ending with relief as she padded over to the bar, "Bar, darling, I'm so happy to see you, in fact, I don't think I've been happier to see you in my entire life."

She shook her head as she swung herself into a seat, closing the file and setting it aside, "If I could please get a cheeseburger and..." She didn't even finish before the cheeseburger, the garlic fries and the enormous chocolate shake popped up. She grinned, patting the bartop, "I love you, I do."

(Supernatural muns, if any've you are around, please to be checking this here backroom post thanks!)

heads-you-live.livejournal.com

Domino was doing quite well that evening.

She was doing so well, in fact, that she would quite likely spread her good mood around by buying people drinks.

The only catch in this plan was that they'd have to talk to her first.

Look at her though! She's all done up! Well, more done up than usual anyway, which means a skirt and a tanktop instead of the usual jeans and wifebeater.

madroxmadrox.livejournal.com

Jamie wanders into the bar. Momentarily distracted by the change in scenery, he stumbles a little, and doubles.

The dupe recovers faster than the original, and slicks his hair back with one hand.

"Okay, tonight, you get the drinks and I get the chicks."

"No. Hey -- no deal. No deal!"

hopeitsworthit

Dean's hands are a little greasy when he comes in today. Most of the rest of him was probably pretty bad off, too, judging by the filthy rag tucked into his back pocket.

Working on the Impala does that to a Winchester.

He looks pretty damn pleased with himself, though, which means things are going well.

The good beer's coming out tonight, hell yeah.

Bar pops up one that's even better than what he asked for, and since he has the money, he grins, pops the top off, and slides into a nearby booth.

Oh yeah. This is the life, baby.

Well, at least until the next supernatural freakshow pops up.

What can you do?

heads-you-live.livejournal.com

Domino wandered downstairs, bedhead, PJs and all.

She was also, and this is the important part, grinning.

She wove her way across the bar, she'd lost the ro-sham-bo over who was going to go downstairs and get snacks. She didn't mind so much, really.

heads-you-live.livejournal.com

Domino had seen the sign, and as such knew that he had a promise to fulfil.

All he needed now was the person he'd made the promise too, he knew she'd be around, sooner or later, so was content to bide his time with dinner.

heads-you-live.livejournal.com

Domino had decided to test out the limits of the new shape, oddly unsurprised to find them much the same as they usually were. She was surprised to find that as weird as this was, it still didn't bother her.

At that particular moment he was out by the lake, sunning, hair still dripping wet from the laps he'd just been swimming. He'd probably drop back into the water to do more soon enough, but it was too nice a day to waste.

heads-you-live.livejournal.com

Mints, of any variety, were a staple in Domino's diet, she usually blamed this on the cigarettes.

Free mints, were a boon and not to be passed up in any case, even at Milliways.

Of course a moment later, aside from the splort and the sound of a tank top rending, there was a not so much irate, as resigned, "Oh bloody hell."

heads-you-live.livejournal.com

Domino was back, just at that moment she was sitting near the trilobyte tank, mostly relaxed.

It wasn't as good as goldfish, but it was as close as she was going to get without going home. After all, she'd just been home and the news was still the same, nothing that needed her particular expertise.

Go on and interrupt her, she's not doing anything terribly important.

falconryu.livejournal.com

[[ The Date of Your Dreams: a walk in the park, a demon cult attack, shopping, dance and something more. Warnings for violence and implied intimacies. Then, comes next morning, with breakfast, sharing of secrets, and the beginning of a very good friendship with benefits. No real warnings, unless you need to be warned against sweet bounty hunter-assassin talk. ]]

waylostandfound.livejournal.com

The recent days have left Nathan troubled and confused. First Peter, and then a man who looked, talked, and acted a lot like him. Another politician even. And getting news the explosion was going to happen, didn't help.

And yet it made things simpler. He knows his brother will survive. (But scarred, and hard and cold.) And he'll be President. (But something went wrong, but he can change that at least, right?)

He was sitting at a corner table with a scotch in hand, the surface devoid of the usual papers, and notebooks for writing down campaign ideas and speeches. He was trying to ignore the view of exploding stars nearby.

It wasn't working really.

heads-you-live.livejournal.com

Domino was back, perched at one of the small tables near the observation window.

She wasn't visibly armed today, and had left the firearms at home. Of course, this didn't mean she was actually unarmed, just keeping the blades where no one could see them

It had been, all in all, a trying week, but she felt better for having actually had a job to do, if exhausted.

She probably won't snap at you if you want to converse however. Might even share her paradoxes.

waylostandfound.livejournal.com

Nathan was at a table, sitting toward the side and back with some newspaper articles and notes by him again. Occasionally adding something to a speech he was working on. Another public appearance at an event to encourage people to vote. He had lost track of how many he's had to appear at.

hopeitsworthit

Sammy's deep into the research, and there's really only so long Dean can stand bein' cooped up in the motel room, poring over goddamn printouts.

There's also only so long he can wander a freakin' Catfish Festival, even with the added draw of a giant spinning catfish.

Ball of yarn ain't got nothing on this town.

All of this may go a long way to explaining why Dean's first expression, when he comes swaggering in to Milliways, is immediate and over-exaggerated relief.

No catfish in sight, no immediate research projects, really good beer--

Dean's practically in heaven already.

Now for that beer.