(no subject)
Dec. 6th, 2012 02:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gavin62truck[OOM In-Progress: Millitimed to before Kate's return -- Tommy and Dug have a reason to bond.]
gavin62truck
ikissdhimbck[Upstairs, in Room #100:
There was the bourbon. The cowboy hat.
The poetry. The heat.
The ... overweight guard dog.
And then there was
the morning after.
The poetry. The heat.
The ... overweight guard dog.
And then there was
the morning after.
Alternatively titled: How Tommy Gavin Lost his Groove to a Number of Determined and Unsympathetic Animals. Mild warnings for some adult content, and a large quantity of ridiculousness. Millitimed to July 10th/11th.]
OOM: Kate Barlow | Dug
Jun. 26th, 2012 02:56 amikissdhimbck[Upstairs:
Just call on me brother when you need a hand paw
We all need somebody to lean on
I just might have a problem that you'd understand
We all need somebody to lean on
We all need somebody to lean on
I just might have a problem that you'd understand
We all need somebody to lean on
Whoever said a dog couldn't be a lady's best friend? Millitimed to Saturday night; no warnings.]
(no subject)
Jun. 12th, 2012 09:51 pmjack_f_twistLureen, she hates it when Jack rolls his own smokes. Considers it cheap, the kinda thing he used to do as a rodeo cowboy when he didn't have two cents to rub together, and what Lureen says, boy, that's what goes.
Not here, though.
Here, she can't smell the tobacco left on his fingers after he packs it carefully into the paper, and she can't find the little twisted ends left ashed in the trays, so he allows himself this one little pleasure, sitting low on the couch by the fire with his bootheels up on a table, hat (mercifully returned to its non-floral, non-bonnet, all black dusty beat-up Resistol self) tipped low over his face, workshirt rolled up at the sleeves and unbuttoned at the collar, rolling himself a nice smoke.
Gotta be better that way, anyhow. He never did manage to get used to the filtered kind.
[One cowboy, recently turned back into a fella, inna bar! I may have to leave suddenly tonight, but will be back in the AM to tag all slows and pick right back up again.]
Not here, though.
Here, she can't smell the tobacco left on his fingers after he packs it carefully into the paper, and she can't find the little twisted ends left ashed in the trays, so he allows himself this one little pleasure, sitting low on the couch by the fire with his bootheels up on a table, hat (mercifully returned to its non-floral, non-bonnet, all black dusty beat-up Resistol self) tipped low over his face, workshirt rolled up at the sleeves and unbuttoned at the collar, rolling himself a nice smoke.
Gotta be better that way, anyhow. He never did manage to get used to the filtered kind.
[One cowboy, recently turned back into a fella, inna bar! I may have to leave suddenly tonight, but will be back in the AM to tag all slows and pick right back up again.]
(no subject)
May. 29th, 2012 05:20 pmhadyougoing"It's Cubefall??"
Cue one more delighted Milliwayser, bounding down the stairs like Christmas morning.
Ava's just taken her habitual post-Arashmaharr shower (the assorted infernal smells, she's noted, really get under your fingernails), and she meant to spend tonight hanging around strategically, waiting for Zevran and/or Sameth and/or Sam Winchester and/or pyramid people.
However, the evening's plans clearly need modification.
Twenty minutes later, she has dismantled a chair and a couch and is midway through construction of her now-traditional Cubefall Lego fort. A mostly-neglected salad and Coke sit off to one side.
(As usual, she hasn't even looked at sample configurations.
She's too much of a control freak to give up her body voluntarily.)
Maybe if Andrew happens by, they can have a painfully symbolic conversation about change and new beginnings.
ooc: THERE AIN'T NO PARTY LIKE A CUBEFALL PARTY. Get in on this fort-building action! Open until my brain gives up.
eta: sleepyface merc loves you all! is it can be slowtimes?
Cue one more delighted Milliwayser, bounding down the stairs like Christmas morning.
Ava's just taken her habitual post-Arashmaharr shower (the assorted infernal smells, she's noted, really get under your fingernails), and she meant to spend tonight hanging around strategically, waiting for Zevran and/or Sameth and/or Sam Winchester and/or pyramid people.
However, the evening's plans clearly need modification.
Twenty minutes later, she has dismantled a chair and a couch and is midway through construction of her now-traditional Cubefall Lego fort. A mostly-neglected salad and Coke sit off to one side.
(As usual, she hasn't even looked at sample configurations.
She's too much of a control freak to give up her body voluntarily.)
Maybe if Andrew happens by, they can have a painfully symbolic conversation about change and new beginnings.
ooc: THERE AIN'T NO PARTY LIKE A CUBEFALL PARTY. Get in on this fort-building action! Open until my brain gives up.
eta: sleepyface merc loves you all! is it can be slowtimes?
Happy Hour, Cubefall Edition!
May. 29th, 2012 05:42 pmikissdhimbckIt's been a pleasant enough month. After all the hullabaloo of the Shindig cleared out, Kate took some time to herself to relax. She's been around, in and out of the stables as usual, but mostly sticking to the libraries and her room.
She's pleased when she comes downstairs and gets a reminder of just what the date is.
( Would you like to sample some configurations? )
When it's done, a napkin pops up on the Bar.
"Y'jus' like askin' me when I'm tall 'nough t'reach the shelves, don't you?" 'he' grumbles, not without amusement.
He leaps over the counter spryly, and quickly scribbles up a few specials.
Happy Hour Specials:
Robot Cocktail
Fluffy Duck
Gender Bender Shooter
Bourbon
Ice Cream
Bourbon Ice Cream
Build something for half off your drink, and an extra shot of good luck.
"Bar's open! Yeehaw."
[ooc: Open until the next Happy Hour post, or until it scrolls off the front page. All are welcome, threadhopping is encouraged, zaniness is practically required. Have fun! ^__^]
She's pleased when she comes downstairs and gets a reminder of just what the date is.
( Would you like to sample some configurations? )
When it's done, a napkin pops up on the Bar.
"Y'jus' like askin' me when I'm tall 'nough t'reach the shelves, don't you?" 'he' grumbles, not without amusement.
He leaps over the counter spryly, and quickly scribbles up a few specials.
Robot Cocktail
Fluffy Duck
Gender Bender Shooter
Bourbon
Ice Cream
Bourbon Ice Cream
Build something for half off your drink, and an extra shot of good luck.
"Bar's open! Yeehaw."
[ooc: Open until the next Happy Hour post, or until it scrolls off the front page. All are welcome, threadhopping is encouraged, zaniness is practically required. Have fun! ^__^]
(no subject)
Feb. 26th, 2012 09:17 pmgood_dugIt is a very bedraggled looking dog that drags itself out from under a couch this evening. His fur is sticking up in awkward clumps, still dusted here and there with ash and dirt, and there's something of an unpleasant smell clouding the air around him. Big brown eyes stare hopelessly out at the world as he hangs his head, tail tucked between his legs.
No one has fed him in a whole -- well he's not actually sure, but he's pretty sure it's been a year. Or maybe more like a month. Or a few days. Or, at least, since all of the scary things started happening. To top it all off, his collar doesn't seem to be working, and he was reduced to barking at the last set of legs that wandered by his under-couch haven.
And no one came under the couch to find him.
Dug flops onto his side on the floor, the picture of abject misery. A low whine emanates from his throat, and his tail lies absolutely still without the hint of a wag.
Worst. Day. Ever.
[ooc: *gleeeeeeeeeeeeeees all over the place* as much amazing fun as this is, it is also bed-induced slowtimes! post is open for forever and ever as long as no one minds possible slowness <3]
No one has fed him in a whole -- well he's not actually sure, but he's pretty sure it's been a year. Or maybe more like a month. Or a few days. Or, at least, since all of the scary things started happening. To top it all off, his collar doesn't seem to be working, and he was reduced to barking at the last set of legs that wandered by his under-couch haven.
And no one came under the couch to find him.
Dug flops onto his side on the floor, the picture of abject misery. A low whine emanates from his throat, and his tail lies absolutely still without the hint of a wag.
Worst. Day. Ever.
[ooc: *gleeeeeeeeeeeeeees all over the place* as much amazing fun as this is, it is also bed-induced slowtimes! post is open for forever and ever as long as no one minds possible slowness <3]
(no subject)
Feb. 26th, 2012 02:03 pmikissdhimbckKate knows it hadn't all been a very visceral dream the moment she pulls herself out of bed. She works her hair into a braid, revealing a collection of bruises and scrapes along her neck and shoulders. Her hair still smells like burnt midden. The cats have been snuffling at yesterday's soiled clothes since she discarded them, ears flattened to all the scents they carry.
The reality of what happened becomes even more clear when she eases her way downstairs. It's still a shambles, and it don't look like Miss Bar or any of the waitrats are back yet. She's itching to get back out to the stables, but breaking the day's fast is going to take a bit more effort. Besides that, there's a good number of people she hasn't seen since the hullabaloo. It'll do her heart good if she can find her friends.
She clears the detritus away from the kitchen doors and props them open.
"If anybody needs food or help, I'm here!"
And a decent cook.
Once she's done with that, she makes a beeline for the stables. Even after yesterday's efforts there's still much to be done to get everything back to normal. Hopefully some of the hands and stock owners will check in. If she's not careful, this worry line between her brows will become permanent.
[ooc: Catch Kate inside, in the kitchen, or out in the stables. Post is open indefinitely. ^__^]
The reality of what happened becomes even more clear when she eases her way downstairs. It's still a shambles, and it don't look like Miss Bar or any of the waitrats are back yet. She's itching to get back out to the stables, but breaking the day's fast is going to take a bit more effort. Besides that, there's a good number of people she hasn't seen since the hullabaloo. It'll do her heart good if she can find her friends.
She clears the detritus away from the kitchen doors and props them open.
"If anybody needs food or help, I'm here!"
And a decent cook.
Once she's done with that, she makes a beeline for the stables. Even after yesterday's efforts there's still much to be done to get everything back to normal. Hopefully some of the hands and stock owners will check in. If she's not careful, this worry line between her brows will become permanent.
[ooc: Catch Kate inside, in the kitchen, or out in the stables. Post is open indefinitely. ^__^]
(no subject)
Mar. 21st, 2011 08:51 pmgood_dugDug loves Bar.
This is for many reasons.Mainly Dug loves Bar because she has a habit of providing him with delicious snacks, including the normally forbidden people food. And even when she doesn't give him food even though he looks at her with his widest saddest eyes possible (which can be difficult because he's simply not sure where he's supposed to look), she gives him other exciting things! Like toys. Toys which admittedly seem worryingly evil, but he's pretty sure he and Octoplushie have gotten over that particular problem. Chewing off one of the eight legs helped with that.
But see - the thing is, he maybe kind of liked it when Octoplushie was evil. It was fun, in a way, chasing it, hiding from it, taunting it from under tables and behind chairs. Now that said underwater plushie is missing limbs and definitely much more battered, its servos don't seem as keen to run away from Dug. It more...limps. And that? That's just boring.
But Bar has provided Dug with another toy! And Dug? He love love love love loves Bar. Who else could give you a ball which bounces by itself?
Currently Dug has parked his massive golden behind on top of one of the tables, and has his head hanging over the edge, watching the ball with fascination. It's pretty normal-looking, blue with red dog bones, but it bounces neatly to Dug-head-height without anyone ever touching it, staying in the same position.
Twice he's snapped at it, and twice it's moved slightly to one side, avoiding him neatly. Currently his tail is flicking back and forth as he prepares for another go. This time he'll go all out. This time he'll leap at it. This time he'll get it....
This is for many reasons.Mainly Dug loves Bar because she has a habit of providing him with delicious snacks, including the normally forbidden people food. And even when she doesn't give him food even though he looks at her with his widest saddest eyes possible (which can be difficult because he's simply not sure where he's supposed to look), she gives him other exciting things! Like toys. Toys which admittedly seem worryingly evil, but he's pretty sure he and Octoplushie have gotten over that particular problem. Chewing off one of the eight legs helped with that.
But see - the thing is, he maybe kind of liked it when Octoplushie was evil. It was fun, in a way, chasing it, hiding from it, taunting it from under tables and behind chairs. Now that said underwater plushie is missing limbs and definitely much more battered, its servos don't seem as keen to run away from Dug. It more...limps. And that? That's just boring.
But Bar has provided Dug with another toy! And Dug? He love love love love loves Bar. Who else could give you a ball which bounces by itself?
Currently Dug has parked his massive golden behind on top of one of the tables, and has his head hanging over the edge, watching the ball with fascination. It's pretty normal-looking, blue with red dog bones, but it bounces neatly to Dug-head-height without anyone ever touching it, staying in the same position.
Twice he's snapped at it, and twice it's moved slightly to one side, avoiding him neatly. Currently his tail is flicking back and forth as he prepares for another go. This time he'll go all out. This time he'll leap at it. This time he'll get it....
(no subject)
Nov. 27th, 2010 10:52 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
he-believes.livejournal.comThe door swings open and in, letting in the tail end of a conversation.
"…wasn't the nicest guy, sure, but Jerry didn't deserve to go like that. Not at the hands of a homicidal talking computer system."
Mulder steps in, long-limbed and languid. His spine straightens as he sees where he is, a keen excitement overtaking his features.
"Scully. Hold the door."
He disappears from the bar again, ducking out of sight. Seconds later he's back, suit jacket abandoned, sleeves rolled back, armed with a camcorder. It looks brand-new but that's relative—it probably came with a manual that looked something like this. He boots it up right away.
"This is it. Evidence of the Bar Abduction Phenomenon." Swivelling the recording end at his partner: "Smile. We're making history."
"…wasn't the nicest guy, sure, but Jerry didn't deserve to go like that. Not at the hands of a homicidal talking computer system."
Mulder steps in, long-limbed and languid. His spine straightens as he sees where he is, a keen excitement overtaking his features.
"Scully. Hold the door."
He disappears from the bar again, ducking out of sight. Seconds later he's back, suit jacket abandoned, sleeves rolled back, armed with a camcorder. It looks brand-new but that's relative—it probably came with a manual that looked something like this. He boots it up right away.
"This is it. Evidence of the Bar Abduction Phenomenon." Swivelling the recording end at his partner: "Smile. We're making history."
(no subject)
Nov. 24th, 2010 07:42 pmgood_dugDoors open in Milliways all the time. They're not unusual. Often-seen patrons of said bar probably have ceased to notice them. This one in particular could very easily go unnoticed, being quite small, and square, and low to the ground. If it continued to stay silent and closed, it's likely no one would ever pay it a second thought.
Which, of course, means that it doesn't.
Which, of course, means that it doesn't.
The doggy-door slams open and a rumpled ball of golden hair flies through, skidding on the polished hardwood floor. The ragged remains of what appears to be a plush octopus hang from his jaws, tentacles flopping in a defeated way. A long and elegant muzzle briefly points through said doggy door, and a high-pitched mechanized voice screams "And stay out!" As the door flaps on its hinges, echoes of voices can be heard from behind it, loudly discussing how insane it must be to persist in a lie about some sort of magical restaurant that hides on an airship.
On the floor in front of it, the furry heap slowly uncurls, revealing a pair of sad brown eyes and the blinking red light of a strange button on his leather collar. The dog's face seems very dejected, every muscle limp, face hanging in a truly heartstring-tugging way.
At least, for a moment.
Then his head comes up and the big nose wrinkles, sniffing furiously. Spinning in circles, the dog barks in ecstasy, a loud, booming big-dog bark. And behind the bark, slightly difficult to hear...
Dug speaks.
"I am back I am back I am back! The magical place! It is here! I did not imagine it!"
(no subject)
May. 8th, 2010 07:04 pmgood_dugSo it seems that Jack was eventually successful in selling Dug. Signs pointing to this include a lack of 'for-sale' signage, a notable lack of Dug when he would normally be mooching around everyone else at the fireplace, and perhaps most telling of all, the fact that when he wanders into the bar this evening via the back door, he appears to be roughly spherical in shape.
Seems like a certain blonde schoolteacher turned outlaw has a soft spot for big fuzzy golden retrievers. He's spent the last week or so exploring every inch of the stables, talking to the horses (who sadly don't talk back but are still interesting), diving in the lake, and generally being a giant suck for attention. It turns out Kate gives these pretty darn good tummy rubs and she feeds him pretty much anything he asks for and takes him for romps around and plays fetch and isn't scared at all of his Octoplushie. So, basically, in all the excitement, he completely forgot the second part of the 'selling game' - the part where he was supposed to go back to Jack.
It's completely out of his mind as he heads for the fire, taking a massive leap into an armchair and curling himself up comfortabley with the Octoplushie tucked under his chin. As far as he's concerned, he's found the best master ever, even if he can't really remember why he was having to find her in the first place.
His tail flaps lazily against the cushions. Ahh, doggy bliss.
Seems like a certain blonde schoolteacher turned outlaw has a soft spot for big fuzzy golden retrievers. He's spent the last week or so exploring every inch of the stables, talking to the horses (who sadly don't talk back but are still interesting), diving in the lake, and generally being a giant suck for attention. It turns out Kate gives these pretty darn good tummy rubs and she feeds him pretty much anything he asks for and takes him for romps around and plays fetch and isn't scared at all of his Octoplushie. So, basically, in all the excitement, he completely forgot the second part of the 'selling game' - the part where he was supposed to go back to Jack.
It's completely out of his mind as he heads for the fire, taking a massive leap into an armchair and curling himself up comfortabley with the Octoplushie tucked under his chin. As far as he's concerned, he's found the best master ever, even if he can't really remember why he was having to find her in the first place.
His tail flaps lazily against the cushions. Ahh, doggy bliss.
(no subject)
Apr. 16th, 2010 11:11 pmnoscaredkid.livejournal.comJack, like a good many patrons of Milliways, is currently scrambling for a way to pay off her sizeable tab. She's tried stealing (Security didn't like that), she's tried finding work (not a lot of the jobs being offered involve beating things to death), and she's tried just plain haggling her way out of her debt (you can imagine how well that worked). None of these turned a profit, and none of them helped her.
Then, very recently, a certain talking dog (Dug) offered his services to Jack in order to make up for...something. He's not sure what, but he knows Jack was angry at him, and now she's not, so it's okay! After a few attempts at training him to fetch wallets, and after a few hours of trying to figure out a way to make rock-guarding profitable, Jack finally hit on an idea that's sure to get her some cash.
"Dog for sale!"
Young woman and dopey dog are both seated at a table, one of them on a chair and the other on the floor. A small sign is sitting on the table, Jack's messy handwriting (more or less) displaying the following message:
Dog For Sale! Unique, once-in-a-lifetime chance to own a talking dog! Very intelligent, loyal companion, makes a great guard-dog! Only one of his kind, get yours while supplies last!
A similar sign has been hung around Dug's neck, though he seems blissfully unaware of Jack's intentions. This may be because he doesn't understand, or just because he's chewing on his octoplushie.
[Tinytag: Jack (Subject Zero), Dug]
[OOC:Two muns, two pups, tag away! We accept cash, check and Visa/Mastercard And both muns are for sleep now, but slowtimes are awesome and new tags are super welcome!]
Then, very recently, a certain talking dog (Dug) offered his services to Jack in order to make up for...something. He's not sure what, but he knows Jack was angry at him, and now she's not, so it's okay! After a few attempts at training him to fetch wallets, and after a few hours of trying to figure out a way to make rock-guarding profitable, Jack finally hit on an idea that's sure to get her some cash.
"Dog for sale!"
Young woman and dopey dog are both seated at a table, one of them on a chair and the other on the floor. A small sign is sitting on the table, Jack's messy handwriting (more or less) displaying the following message:
A similar sign has been hung around Dug's neck, though he seems blissfully unaware of Jack's intentions. This may be because he doesn't understand, or just because he's chewing on his octoplushie.
[Tinytag: Jack (Subject Zero), Dug]
[OOC:
(no subject)
Mar. 1st, 2010 02:03 pmgood_dugSo, a few days ago Dug decided to be a Nice Dog and offered up his collar to Xamot and Tomax for research purposes.
He definitely didn't think about the part where that meant he would not have his collar, and therefore would be unable to speak. Of course, he could always have gone home for a new one, but his master would have been angry and he would probably have called him a bad dog and maybe even made him wear the Cone of Shame and, well, the bar still is apparently able to understand him so it's not like it's so horribly bad.
Or it wasn't, anyhow, but now it's been ages and he can't talk to anyone and he forgot how awful this was. Which means there's a very large lump of golden retriever in an armchair by the fire, staring pathetically into space and whimpering occasionally.
Look at him. Look at how horrifically traumatized he is! Look at what a horrible life he is now leading! Look at how badly he needs to be snuggled with! Don't you just want to make him feel better?
You do, don't you? Only a pretty nasty person wouldn't want to! And you're not one, are you?
...are you?
[ooc:emergency slowtimes, hopefully back ASAP, but could be longer - will tag up, new threads are love and back!]
He definitely didn't think about the part where that meant he would not have his collar, and therefore would be unable to speak. Of course, he could always have gone home for a new one, but his master would have been angry and he would probably have called him a bad dog and maybe even made him wear the Cone of Shame and, well, the bar still is apparently able to understand him so it's not like it's so horribly bad.
Or it wasn't, anyhow, but now it's been ages and he can't talk to anyone and he forgot how awful this was. Which means there's a very large lump of golden retriever in an armchair by the fire, staring pathetically into space and whimpering occasionally.
Look at him. Look at how horrifically traumatized he is! Look at what a horrible life he is now leading! Look at how badly he needs to be snuggled with! Don't you just want to make him feel better?
You do, don't you? Only a pretty nasty person wouldn't want to! And you're not one, are you?
...are you?
[ooc:
(no subject)
Feb. 19th, 2010 08:07 pmgood_dugSo there is pretty much only one thing that makes Dug happy. And that is - well, okay, two things.
Three.
Four. No, five. Six. Seven - and you know what, it's probably easier to say that there aren't a lot of things that don't make him happy. But high up on that list is food, especially food he doesn't have to do anything except for a little begging to get. And it just so happens that this place, this interesting magical place, well...it's got something pretty special. And that something would be a magical bar that gives Dug whatever food he asks for, at least until he gets cut off because he's already devoured roughly three times his own bodyweight in assorted raw meats.
Do you know what that means, Milliways? It means that Dug is one very, very happy dog. He's also very asleep at the moment, sprawled on his back in front of the fire with all four paws in the air, snoring and occasionally passing wind as his legs twitch with exciting dreams of chasing and capturing birds. Occasionally, his collar picks up a stray thought and translates it quietly, the Dug version of sleep-talking.
It seems like it'd be a shame to wake him. After all, it's not like he's completely blocking several armchairs, not to mention the route to the fire...oh, he is?
Well.
Maybe someone should wake him up. But nicely, of course. With plenty of tummy scritches.
[ooc: I sense a sleep coming on - slowtimes for all, new tags always welcome and always picked up! *mwah*]
Three.
Four. No, five. Six. Seven - and you know what, it's probably easier to say that there aren't a lot of things that don't make him happy. But high up on that list is food, especially food he doesn't have to do anything except for a little begging to get. And it just so happens that this place, this interesting magical place, well...it's got something pretty special. And that something would be a magical bar that gives Dug whatever food he asks for, at least until he gets cut off because he's already devoured roughly three times his own bodyweight in assorted raw meats.
Do you know what that means, Milliways? It means that Dug is one very, very happy dog. He's also very asleep at the moment, sprawled on his back in front of the fire with all four paws in the air, snoring and occasionally passing wind as his legs twitch with exciting dreams of chasing and capturing birds. Occasionally, his collar picks up a stray thought and translates it quietly, the Dug version of sleep-talking.
It seems like it'd be a shame to wake him. After all, it's not like he's completely blocking several armchairs, not to mention the route to the fire...oh, he is?
Well.
Maybe someone should wake him up. But nicely, of course. With plenty of tummy scritches.
[ooc: I sense a sleep coming on - slowtimes for all, new tags always welcome and always picked up! *mwah*]
(no subject)
Nov. 26th, 2007 04:00 pmlatino_menaceRamon's had a lot on his mind lately, not that he'll probably admit it. It does explain the rather distant look on his face though, as he toys with a tequila in his booth.
Distractions may or may not be welcome, depending on what he thinks of you. But that shouldn't be a deterrent to anyone wanting to talk to him.
[OOC:
(no subject)
Oct. 31st, 2007 09:11 pmchelleuncurledMichelle comes into the bar in jeans and a pink sweater. It's been a while since she's seen Milliways and sometimes has to remind herself that the last few years have really happened.
A moment later and she almost trips on the hem of the light blue gown she's now wearing.
She looks down, unable to see her feet, her body draped in layers of fabric, and her hands half-covered with light blue lace.
Suddenly she feels like she should be on a balcony brooding.
"No," she says, having a sinking feeling about what day it is, a glance around the bar revealing what she already suspected.
Milliways at the witching hour.
At least there will probably be candy.
(no subject)
Oct. 31st, 2007 05:37 pmaction-antihero.livejournal.comJack's either forgotten what day it's likely to be, or he's hoping that he's missed it; as either way, when he walks in he's looking rather worried, though there's a grin that keeps slipping onto his face momentarily.
That doesn't last very long. Only until he realizes he's suddenly wearing a lot more clothing than he'd put on that morning.
He looks down--"Dammit!"--and then heads over to the bar. If it's Halloween in Milliways again, he's going to need a large drink to cope. Too bad he hasn't seen the sign yet.
[ooc: Mun is currently sneakily tagging from work, so tags may be slow, and will be non-existent between 7:45-9:15 EDT as she closes and goes home.]
(no subject)
Oct. 30th, 2007 12:38 amaction-antihero.livejournal.com[OOM: Tonight, out by the lake, Jack asked Chris a very important question.]
(no subject)
Oct. 3rd, 2007 10:53 pmaction-antihero.livejournal.comJESUS CHRIST ITS A LION GET IN THE BAR.
Or, rather, it's Jack, still in lion form, going for a stroll outside. As much as it sucks being in an animal form (he's spent the last couple night sleeping in the bar, as he'd have to get someone to let him in and out of his room, and that doesn't help if he has to ahem relieve himself during the night) it does feel pretty cool to run in lion form. As long as he doesn't think about what paws are moving when; if he does, he tends to trip over his own feet.
At the moment, he's just quietly stalking around, looking for a good spot to lie down and watch the sunset. Chasing demon bunnies is tiring work, after all.
Or, rather, it's Jack, still in lion form, going for a stroll outside. As much as it sucks being in an animal form (he's spent the last couple night sleeping in the bar, as he'd have to get someone to let him in and out of his room, and that doesn't help if he has to ahem relieve himself during the night) it does feel pretty cool to run in lion form. As long as he doesn't think about what paws are moving when; if he does, he tends to trip over his own feet.
At the moment, he's just quietly stalking around, looking for a good spot to lie down and watch the sunset. Chasing demon bunnies is tiring work, after all.
(no subject)
Aug. 5th, 2007 10:54 pmaction-antihero.livejournal.comThere's a new female face in the bar. This one spent the night after ingesting certain breath mints hoping a certain spell would be slept off, and woke with dismay to find that it hadn't. Even more, to find that there were clothes--women's clothes--in the right size hung inside the closet. It didn't exactly inspire confidence that this would be a passing thing.
So anyway, there's a somewhat grouchy-looking woman sitting at the bar, sipping a cup of coffee as Bar wouldn't let her have any alcohol. Too bad, as today, she could really use some.
Milliways, say hello to Jackie Bauer.
So anyway, there's a somewhat grouchy-looking woman sitting at the bar, sipping a cup of coffee as Bar wouldn't let her have any alcohol. Too bad, as today, she could really use some.
Milliways, say hello to Jackie Bauer.
(no subject)
Aug. 5th, 2007 10:05 pmgeeky-agent.livejournal.com[OOM: Chris talks to her dad about what's been going on back home.]
Chris loves free stuff and isn't paying attention when she gets back in the bar. That's why she grabbed a couple of the free mints without thinking and popped them in her mouth.
It's only a minute or two later, when her mouth is minty and they're most melted that she realizes that might have been stupid on her part. Waiting a minute more, nothing happens and she just swallows the mints.
There's no sense in being paranoid over every little --
"Dammit!"
Chris loves free stuff and isn't paying attention when she gets back in the bar. That's why she grabbed a couple of the free mints without thinking and popped them in her mouth.
It's only a minute or two later, when her mouth is minty and they're most melted that she realizes that might have been stupid on her part. Waiting a minute more, nothing happens and she just swallows the mints.
There's no sense in being paranoid over every little --
"Dammit!"
(no subject)
Jul. 30th, 2007 11:07 pmaction-antihero.livejournal.com[OOM: The crisis is over, but there are still a few things Jack needs to wrap up at CTU and elsewhere, but finally he's able to go back to Michelle's place for some catch-up with Chris and some well-deserved sleep.
Eighteen hours and a lot of sleep later, Jack wakes, with another awkward conversation to get through, this time with Chris' sister, Caiti.]
Eighteen hours and a lot of sleep later, Jack wakes, with another awkward conversation to get through, this time with Chris' sister, Caiti.]
(no subject)
Jul. 11th, 2007 04:16 amgeeky-agent.livejournal.com[OOC: Once she has some free time, Chris makes an important phone call.]
(no subject)
Jun. 1st, 2007 09:56 pmaction-antihero.livejournal.com[OOM: Jack and Chris go to meet Henderson and get Caiti back. Naturally, nothing is quite that easy.]
