milliways_bar | Entries tagged with duster

[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

Deep in the forest, the search party have got a lead.

A ghostly wail runs through the back garden, calling people to help fight the creature.

[ooc: Battle thread still in progress, open until New Year or when everyone is ready. If anyone wants in last minute, just touch base with me or Maru :)]

skeleton_king

Shortly after this, Jack and Gene come into the bar. Gene raises his voice to a bellow.

"IF ANY OF YOU LOT WANT SANTA BACK, GET YOUR ARSES OUT HERE AND HELP LOOK!"

Then they disappear outside.

[ooc: Again prethreaded, but reactions welcome.]

herr_bookman

Autor slaps a notice on the board today,
Wishing his pox would just go away.

Temporal Anomalies is a Milliways band,
One person short as we're three-manned,
We have a bassist, keys, and strummer,
But we're looking for a talented drummer.
If you're gifted and aren't lackluster,
Please contact Autor, Enzo, or Duster.

He himself is curled around tea,
Green-spotted and full of misery.

mindofathief

Duster comes down to the main room, carrying his bass with him. Earlier this evening, he opened a gift box lying on the floor, only to find it didn't contain anything useful in it. But he was well now, and he wouldn't let that event stop him from performing. It's a regular comfort to him.

Tonight, as he's in a relatively good mood, he'll let listeners walk up to him and chat for a while.

((OOC: Coming into physical contact with Duster during this plot will have your pup contract the pox. He's currently not showing any symptoms, but the next day, both will be showing the listed symptoms.))

father_chris

It's easier sometimes just to ask people what they want for Christmas.

So Chris, while he's working on the usual sack of letters, has got a sign up on his table.

Tell me what you want for Christmas

He takes out another letter, opens it, shakes his head, and puts it in the bag of everyone else who asked for a bloomin' live penguin this year. Bloody television advertising.

skeleton_king

This is a thing called a present.
The whole thing starts with a box.

At some point over the course of the day, some little boxes have appeared over various areas of the bar.

The boxes are of varying size and are labelled 'A gift to you'. They are white with a pattern of grey cobwebs on the paper, with a black bow, but the lid is not tied down.

The gentleman who distributed them most carefully and casually has left the scene. He was so very, very careful not to be seen actually leaving a parcel. Why, that would spoil the surprise on their happy little faces!

[ooc: Brought forward a couple of days due to Jack-mun's potential change of work rota, see back room post! Jack is not here but feel free to find a box whether you signed up or not. There will be boxes lying around until at least the weekend]

skeleton_king

Deep in the forest there is a tree. Which looks just like any other tree. Or at least it did. Prior to tonight it was quite happily growing a ring a year, sprouting leaves, dropping leaves, and generally minding its own business.

If you blinked you might miss the appearance of the pumpkin door carved in its surface, which opens to reveal a round, shiny, skeleton head, with deep black eyes.

Blink again and you'll miss him, moving silently through the trees, an excited expression on his skeleton grin. A week ago he thought it was just his own world, and now not just one new place, but another!

He stops at the edge of the trees, and looks at the buildings.

"What's this? What's this?
A little house of glass?
What's this?
Such green and luscious grass!
What's this?
I can't believe my luck
What is this treasure
Place of pleasure that I pass?
What's this?"

He silently moves to the edge of the lake, running his hand through the sand.

"What's this? What's this?
It's soft and oddly warm
What's this?
Its shape you can transform!
What's this?
Someone has built a
little tiny fort and
Decorated it with thought
And a moat with real water
What is this?
What's this?"

( Cut for length! )

If you are in the bar anywhere near the fireplace, you may hear an excited echo...

"What

is

this?!"

The next second, an overexcited skeleton tumbles down the chimney, out of the fire through the fire fish, and knocking over a lamp.

Ooooops.

Quick as a flash, he stands up very straight, puts the lampshade on his head, and stands very still.

[ooc: GOOD EVENING MILLIFOLKS! We will be running a Nightmare-Before-Christmas themed plot between now and New Year, with various different things at different times to take part in. Everyone welcome, the more the merrier! See this post for further details!

Lyrics adapted from the Nightmare Before Christmas.]

evil_koala_626

"Blaaaaaaah."

Milliways patrons, beware! Sometime over the course of Halloween, there has been the addition of one vertically challenged horror to the hoard of ghosties and ghoulies and long-leggedy beasties currently prowling about the place. It's nowhere near October on Stitch's side of the door but since when has that precluding anyone from disguising themselves as one of the undead and demanding candy from strangers?

The plastic fangs he's cheerfully wearing seem a bit redundant though.

father_chris

The door bursts open, and a pile of letters floods the doorway into the bar.

Yes folks, it gets bloomin' earlier every year.

Chris slides down the pile, then attempts to get some of them back into a sack, or shoved back through the door so that he can shut it.

"Why can't they learn to use bloody email for this?"

smythe

It was a total accident that Sebastian Smythe ended up here, but he couldn't tell you how he had. It had been his third stop of the night, hopping from place-to-place as he grew bored with the same ol' nothing. He was tipsy, but not drunk, and all the bars were starting to get that familiar "everything looks the same!" feel to it. What was one more stop on his journey to even more nothing? He had a lot he was trying to forget. Bar hopping was just making it worse.

He walked into Milliways Bar, and glanced casually around, barely paying attention to his surroundings, and he headed up to the Bar, sliding onto a stool, and leaning his head against the counter. Hopefully somebody would find him soon to order. Definitely time for just water.

street_sparrow

Gavroche puts up a cheerfully decorated poster on the board, proclaiming:

Last week was my birthday. Today I'm having a party, out by the lake.

Everyone is invited.

Gavroche Riddle.

And as promised, all the necessary things for a party are arranged.

[ooc: Open forever!]

fry_sandhu

Fry is in a booth, looking quite content.

It turns out that Mrs Pink thought his paragraph on a banana was 'delightful and very artistic', which meant he not only got a star, but she's asked him to write it out and illustrate it to put it on the wall for open evening.

Apparently open evening is where parents of new kids come and look round the school, so Fry has been making sure to leave a note on his desk each night to let the new parents know that his class has enough people in it already.

But he has no problem with people joining other classes so he takes great care colouring his picture of a banana in, and then carefully writing the letters out again.

Also on the table is an invitation to Teddy's birthday party, but he's not quite sure what to do with that yet.

mindofathief

The entire afternoon, Duster has been moving between the Bar and a room somewhere in the back, carrying thick sheets of foam that the Bar gives him. Apart from his usual limp, there's nothing worrying about his work, though he's been taking a lot of material and doesn't look like finishing soon.

pullsneedles

It occurs to Lucas that it was most likely his birthday yesterday. How old is he supposed to be again? How old would Claus be? He's not even sure what matters about any of it anymore.

He sits at the bar and asks for a menu, preferring to think about his stomach than anything else right now. He picks the most unfamiliar page out of the selection offered, closes his eyes, and pokes his finger at a dish. He ends up learning that he likes ratatouille.

He would probably like being bothered.

el_enmascarado_de_plata

No vampires or risen mummies or international gangsters running around loose in Mexico City today. There was a match, but it wasn't a particularly crucial one, and Dos Caras put up a pretty good fight without anybody getting seriously hurt. So, all in all, it's been a decent day at home.

Santo's gonna celebrate by parking himself at one of the more prominent Milliways tables with his security badge prominently on display and keep an eye on things here for a while. It seldom hurts for people to know there's guards on duty.

fairy_fixit

Something curious for the careful observer of bar patrons:

On top of a table in the dining area there are three things that are about the shame height. There is a fairy, a Zanaris fairy specifically, reading through some notes. She is approximately a tiny human with wings, but not. Her head and eyes don't have quite the right proportions for human. Her wings are much like the forewings of a common moth, but she lacks the hindwings. she left her hat upstairs today, so her feathery antennae are are free to bob about above her blonde hair. Other than that, she wears some odd looking overalls and of to one side is an array various carving tools made for people her size by people her size.

Looking up from her notes, she eyeballs the ivory monster taking shape from the tusk that is nearly as tall as she is. She picks up a tool from the table and makes a refinement to some detail on the monster, then goes back to studying her notes.

Opposite the monster is a tall milkshake glass, containing what appear to be a chocolate milkshake, topped off with whipped cream. Those close enough might smell the whiskey in it.

Come say hi. Or, you may gawk.

electro_kinetic

There's a girl lounging upside-down on a chair in Milliways, wedge-booted feet hanging over the back of the chair with her head resting on the extended footrest, with a few beaded braids adorning her loose mass of hair and a clear plastic ball full of colorful but equally plastic track in her hands. She's working a tiny steel ball bearing through it, aiming to finish the puzzle this time.

In her ears there are headphones playing a mix of an awful lot of classical music, mixed with more things closer to her style. At the moment there's vibrating, thumping dubstep coming out of it. She spent a couple days decompressing in her room after being let out of the cells, before she even tried venturing to the bar proper again, but it's an experiment in progress.

pullsneedles

The time has come to remember, both to mourn and to celebrate. A bonfire flares bright and friendly, inviting all to come and share stories about the places that are now gone.

[ooc: Open to all and open all week! Party rules apply. Threadhop and enjoy!]

mindofathief

Duster is walking back and forth around Milliways. Or rather, he's rushing surprisingly quickly with his limp with a concerned look on his face.

"Where are they? Where are they?" He mutters under his breath as he looks under tables and chairs in the next room. After no success, he stands back up and takes one last look before moving on.

((OOC: Open to all until it drops off the page.))

for_good_taste

Since meeting Duster, Sasha's been monkeying around with memory retrieval, and he's got something that needs a little broader testing.

He is set up in a prominently visible position in the main room. The table is occupied with a big pile of electronics. There is a sign tacked to the side:

MEMORY RETRIEVAL EXPERIMENT
VOLUNTEERS WANTED
MINIMAL RISK, AS-YET-UNPREDICTABLE RESULTS

While waiting for people to show up, he is reading Against Method.

[OOC: If you volunteer to be hooked up to the machine, it will cause you to re-experience a randomly-selected event from your past. It does not have to be an event that you have forgotten, nor does it have to be an event of any actual significance. (Reliably retrieving lost and significant memories is still a work in progress.) Sasha will want you to describe the experience in detail. If you'd rather, some sort of hilarious but ultimately harmless malfunction may occur.

He's also happy to just talk, if you'd rather not be experimented on.]

capture_eternity

Today, Dorian Gray is lounging on a sofa by the fireplace, feet up, occasionally sipping sweet mint tea from a small cup. He is reading a book, bound in yellow silk and fitting easily into his hand, and listening to soft classical music that emanates from a little player sitting on the end table that also holds the tea pot.

When somebody comes by, though, he will look up from his book and talk to them. People in this place are infinitely fascinating and entertaining, far more so than any book or music.

mindofathief

As you walk into the bar this evening, there's a man wearing red pants and a light blue blouse standing by the piano. He's tuning a double bass, tapping the fingerboard as he judges the tone. Satisfied, he stands up more straight and begins playing a simple bass line, fingers flying effortlessly as if he has done this many times, and this is just a warm-up. It's relaxing and stands well enough alone but would benefit from another musician.

If you walk up to him, you can see that he seems to be focused on the space below him as if he were deep in thought.

ostro_goth

On the TV over the bar, there's some sort of game going on today: small white and blue figures (some with very colourful shoes) on a large green playing field.

At the bar is one Ostrogoth, drinking mead-beer from a large clay cup, trying to make sense of what is going on.

It seems to be one of the numerous games from the future called 'football', and is actually not quite dissimilar from the Roman version.

As far as Teja can tell.-

for_good_taste

Millitimed shortly after this conversation, still in progress. ~~Open until it falls off the front page~~ Unfortunately, the mun is away all next week; no new tags please.

Sasha is not an untidy person. No, let us rephrase that. Sasha is an obsessively tidy person, when he has the time to be. The trouble is that he's also the sort of person who is only content if he's overbooked by at least 150%, and he's capable of tuning out the mess for months on end in the name of getting all his projects done.

Bar just gave him a wake-up call.

Sasha has therefore hauled all of his cardboard boxes and miscellaneous laboratory clutter into Milliways, and commandeered a side room to sort it. This room happens to have a very large table, neatly marked off with grid squares, and he's carefully taking things out of boxes and piling them in different squares.

Come help! Or "help." Or just gawk at the gadgets and crystals and other implements of ~~mad science~~ psychic research.