milliways_bar | Entries tagged with dwight schrute

sime-channel.livejournal.com

Suzi Darley has a pad of paper, several pens, and a booth where she can keep an eye on the bar in general. Her knitting and her usual signs offering jewelry for sale are nowhere in sight.

She's here for one reason: initial interviews with the people who requested them. Her notes will be passed along above her head, and those people will sit down and figure out who they want to talk to more from there.

She's got the list of questions that Alanna used in the last hire written down to use (and blank space under them in case anyone on Security has other questions that they want her to start adding), and plans to file each days interviews as soon as they're all finished so that they're to hand for the people doing the actual hires.

sime-channel.livejournal.com

Suzi Darley is sitting at a table, waiting for her trip to Quinn's world. She's knitting, because she does that, and on the table next to her is a sign.

It is a big sign. It was written with a glitter pen. It says:

.

The glitter pen is hanging from a string taped to a pad of paper.

There you go.

just-a-job.livejournal.com

Jim had meant to go to the break room, so it's still kind of a shock to end up here again. Not so much that he's still just wide-eyed and staring, but enough so that he stop for a few long moments, looking around curiously in a way he really hadn't gotten the chance to before.

He still almost jumps back when a waitrat passes by.

But really? Sushi is sounding better than that ham-and-cheese sandwich that's waiting for him in the refrigerator. So, while definitely giving it a perplexed look, he walks up to the Bar, and orders some unagi sushi, eyes going a little wide when the food suddenly appears.

... but he has to admit, it's definitely better than any he's found around Scranton.

schrute-space.livejournal.com

[OOM: ...To be announced.]

Once again dressed in his Staples uniform (complete with nametag), Dwight enters the bar.

Much to his dismay, he hasn't had a chance to really investigate this place and figure out what is going. Though he never told anyone about it (no, not even Mose) he did write down an extensive report afterwards detailing everything that happened. It was coded of course, Dwight Schrute is no fool.

He was working on a few theories now, written down in the small notebook he now held in his hands. Through careful deduction, he'd narrowed it down to a few ideas.

Namely:

1.) Alien space craft
2.) Unknown part of the Harry Potter universe
~~3.) Elaborate prank by Jim.~~
~~4.) Nefarious trick by Andy.~~
5.) A surprise/scheme by the documentary crew.
6.) A government plot - CIA possibly involved.

It would take a lot of work and a keen mind to get to the bottom of this, but he was up to the job. Starting at the most natural place, he went up to the bar and scrutinized it. It looked ordinary enough - Dwight knew better though. The wood was smooth, he noted, running his fingers on it.

As a test he gave the bar a light knock. Nothing.

He tries again, a harder rap this time. Still noting. Curious, he reaches around the bartop and gives it a light tug. Not even a creak.

"Sturdy," he mumbles approvingly before pulling on the bar with all his body weight.

[OOC: I must beg slowtime, I need sleep. Thank you all! :D!]

mnt_mike

"You can't be serious!"

"One thousand. Like the number that comes after nine hundred and ninety-nine?"

"Woah. That's kinda hardcore. And all this for a girl? She better be some girl."

"What? That's a whole lot of cranes, is all I'm saying. A whole lot of cranes with a whole lot of chances for papercut. A risk you don't just take for anyone."

"Oh woah woah WOAH! I do so have a romantic bone in my body!"

"Figures of speech totally count!"

"I will not grow up. In fact, I flatly refuse to grow up! What do you think of that?"

Mike suddenly finds himself wearing his red polar-fleece footie pajamas. The ones with the snowmen on them.

"Cute. Real cute."

He attempts to fumble with the zipper, but it doesn't budge.

"You so do not seriously expect me to do Happy Hour in these, do you?"

"Bar?"

"Hello?"

"Nuts."

A familiar flowing script begins to fill the Specials Board as all the bar napkins are slowly replaced with squares of brightly colored paper.

For every 20 cranes you fold,
My Monkey will make you a drink free of charge.
Sincerely,
Bar

supaahiro

Hiro was down in the bar again. He was, sadly, rather preoccupied with a certain brand of woe here. But that didn't mean he wasn't trying to figure out a way to do something about it.

But then there was the Conversation; a soft cheek against Bar's (clean) top, and whispers. Whispers and promises and cajoling. Bar obliged his request. First were the stacks of paper in a myriad of colors. And then were was the dolly to get it outside. A small backpack was provided. A number of bags, and a small counter that sat steadily at 0 and seemed to have no ticker to make it count...

So he went outside, not far from the lake, settled down with his paper, large number of bags, and started to fold. There's a latern, and a sleeping bag, and a small radio (playing Utada Hikaru right this second).

This... is going to take a while, but he's not going back into bar until it's done. Not even for dinner, not even for lunch, not for anything.

He has a mission. A new one. One crane. Two cranes. Three cranes. Four...

[NO NEW TAGS TONIGHT THANKS <3333

AND WE HAVE ENTERED SLOWTIME NOW. THANK YOU ALL!]

just-a-job.livejournal.com

[OOM: Millitimed to ... some logical point of time ago.

Jim and Dwight return to that parking lot they were supposed to go to in the first place, and decide they should probably keep their magical experiences to themselves. Even if Hiro from Heroes doesn't.]

schrute-space.livejournal.com

[OOM: Jim and Dwight get set for a routine sales call.]

A door opens bringing with it a wintry gust of Northern Pennsylvania wind and two paper salesman.

The looks on their faces are familiar even if they aren't. It's the dazed, confused look so many people wear when they first enter Milliways. The dark-haired one slowly turns around, looking at where they just walked in, then just as slowly turns back around towards the bar. That stunned look never leaving his face. His bespectacled friend just shakes his head.

"This isn't the parking lot," Dwight mutters, brows furrowed as he takes in his new surroundings. Then realization dawns and his confusion turns to anger.

"Damn you, Jim."

They didn't have time for childish games!

The Bar at the End of the Universe

Entries tagged with dwight schrute

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