milliways_bar | Entries tagged with fire

It's April First, and Charlie works somewhere that doesn't allow much in the way of pranks.

Really, she's just as happy with this. And quite happy that Bar's seen fit to let this state of affairs continue -- though others here don't seem to have been so lucky.

Oh well. As long as no one gets hurt.

Right now she's sitting on one of the couches by the fireplace, sipping a mocha and reading a newspaper.

bright-burning.livejournal.com

Fire's still somehow wrong around the edges when she slips into the bar tonight, something nagging like she's not exactly the right shape or in the right place or really there at all. She doesn't particularly seem to care either, and trails the smell of smoke behind her as she drops a few slightly charred bills on Bar's surface.

When she moves to a booth, it's with a self-satisfied smile and she doesn't bother to hide the flames dancing just under her skin and in her eyes, just settles back to burn tiny twists of pine bark and fir needles in her palms.

If you look closely, she's not using her lighter.

bright-burning.livejournal.com

Time's passed, outside the bar. Enough time that when the door opens (handle hot to the touch, wood smoking around the edges) the woman who comes through is not quite right around the edges, shimmering like a heat mirage, bringing with her the strong smell of burning wood and ash. Barely visible through the door is half a ruined building, gutted by flames and falling to pieces.

The door shuts, and she looks around. It's been a while, but while she might look like a completely different person, there's something fundamental about her - maybe the smoke-scent, maybe the lighter she holds in her fingers, maybe the flames reflected in her eyes - that hasn't a changed a bit.

Welcome back, Fire.

[ooc: any questions, feel free to ping sociologychild at aim or faceinabook at gtalk]

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

A young woman enters, looking unperturbed, wearing men's clothing. Three guesses as to why that is?

Jack is finding this whole thing rather anticlimactic. He's having trouble with the hips, certainly, they're wider and keep hitting things like kitchen counters and doorframes. But at least, look on the bright side, his breasts are relatively small. Big ones he imagines would get in the way a frightful lot.

burning-evil.livejournal.com

Bah. Sundays. Boring. Hence, one incarnation of Satan, inna bar. He's smoking as usual and for once, isn't surveying the denizens of Bar. He's staring out of the observation window instead with a blank expression.

Could mean anything.

[OOC: ~~Need to slowtime for one hour, say sorry. Will be back after that!~~ Back!]

bright-burning.livejournal.com

It's been a while.

Maybe it's been longer for her. Maybe the door opens to the cracklesnap of burning wood, the bright glow of flames when they dance through forests and leave behind grey ashes to mix with the soft pink of the fireweed. Maybe when she enters, she's surprised, almost turning back and away.

Maybe.

It's been a while, anyway. But she stays, picking out a booth with a decent view of the bar and settling down to toy idly with her lighter (a new one, sleek silver instead of bright red), bringing with her only the strong scent of woodsmoke and burnt pine.

She smiles. The fire gleams in her eyes.

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

[oom: IN which Jack Frost holds a rather eventful dinner party.

Assume, shall we say, that this was a day ago. Perhaps two or three.

Warnings for violence, specifically leading to death.]

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

Jack is perched anxiously on a chair, rocking it back on two legs, one hand holding the edge of the table, the other fiddling awkwardly in spare fabric.

And also watching the door.

gaychickenking.livejournal.com

Magic bar is interesting.

Magic beer is very interesting.

Magic door disappearing, Ben can live with, but magical waking up the next morning in a different body… that’s a little too interesting, really. Just a little.

So, he’d hidden in his room yesterday, and woke up this morning to find himself still with red hair and breasts, among, er, other things. And now he's sneaking down the stairs, draped in what looks a little like a toga and a lot like a bedsheet.

“Body?” he calls out, every couple of steps. “Here, boy.”

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

Jack is lucky enough not to have had his body swapped with anyone else. Which is why he's now comfortably settled in the bar, watching the mayhem with a sympathetic smile.

It is rather funny. And Parker made an adorable fox. So he's in a pleasant mood.

rigthegames.livejournal.com

[oom: once upon a time]

So, a man walks into a bar, and he says:

“-Carlos, Carlos, Carlos. How long have we been working together? Long enough for you to know by now that if I tell you to- yes, Carlos, I did tell you to. And I am the boss of you. And, correct me if I’m wrong- and I really don’t think I’m wrong, Carlos- but when I tell you to-”

His cell phone cuts off with a buzz of static, and Sands glances up sharply.

“Oh shit.”

He spins on his heel, snapping the phone shut and reaching for the door handle in one smooth motion. Not smooth enough. The door clicks shut, and fades away into the wall like it was never there at all.

After a little while, his hand falls back down to his side. He keeps right on staring.

ladyfirestarter

[Out of Milliways I: Afterwards, and the next day.]
[Out of Milliways II: Coming home.]

The front door to Milliways opens, and in stumble a woman and a girl, both red-haired, both slightly bedraggled from a day spent mostly traveling, and both clearly exhausted.

ladyfirestarter

[Out of Milliways: It's time. Charlie makes ready to summon her ally from Milliways to the Dolphin Hotel.

Things don't go quite according to plan.]

[Warning: the linked threads contain some extremely disturbing verbal and visual imagery. It's a Stephen King plot, in other words.]

pointed-spoon.livejournal.com

There's an elderly man seated near the observation window. For all that he's in what's really a tatty nightrobe, he looks as stately as any king. He's wearing even his sorrow with dignity.

There is sorrow, though. For one reason or another, tonight is a night for remembering.

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

Jack Frost is in the bar, with a glass of water and a book of poems that he's still working his way through.

Occasionally, he will pause, and reread a verse. Contemplate a line. A word.

He's going to have to write this one on the window.

bright-burning.livejournal.com

It's been a while. And things have happened, in that time, things that maybe Fire wasn't expecting, things that she's not proud of. Maybe that's why she's quiet, tonight, not playing with fire or people-watching, hunched over the bar with a cup of hot chocolate, stirring it idly.

There are people she could stand to avoid, now, and others she wouldn't mind seeing.

Which catagory do you fall into?

ladyfirestarter

[OOM: Thursday evening, Charlie arrives in New York City. Friday, things ... begin to get interesting.]

ladyfirestarter

Tomorrow's the flight to New York. To find and destroy something out of the nightmares of the same man who dreamed her up.

But before she goes, Charlie has a promise pending.

She's here at Milliways tonight in an attempt to keep it.

blueeyedjohnny.livejournal.com

Johnny is in the rafters, smoking a cigarette and looking at a catalogue of women's underwear.

He's never seen one before.

misterparker.livejournal.com

Parker saunters into the bar and pauses to press a white napkin against his lip.

It's only bleeding a little. The guy had been wearing a football ring when he punched him. Parker sits with a sigh. Might as well stick around, since he's here.

the-woodpecker.livejournal.com

Sunshine Dust, the golden squid, frolics closer to shore today. There were so many people to play with in the lake yesterday! And squids need love and attention too!

There's a soft breeze coaxing the water into gentle waves, playing around the Black Pearl's sails.

If you didn't get a chance to swim yesterday, there is only today.

Tomorrow, it will be February again.

the-woodpecker.livejournal.com

The sun's gone down. The food's been replenished.

So has the booze.

A bonfire's been set up, and is burning.

There are people relaxing , here and there, enjoying the warmth of the fire.

There are others, outside the ring of light, enjoying the darkness.

Don't go inside yet.

The night is young.

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

Milliways. Jack is back, and has never looked happier, possibly. He's at the bar coming up with a list of things he thinks he needs. It's not very practical.

Oh well, the intentions are good. And he'd welcome company before he goes again, because he might not be back for a while.

rigthegames.livejournal.com

Sands hasn’t been around the bar much recently*, but no matter what (or who) you’re trying to avoid, the risk of bumping into it starts to seem a whole lot more appealing after a few weeks skulking in your room.

So he’s sat at the bar with a cigarette, and if the glare he’s giving all patrons within a two metre radius is anything to go by, he would much rather be somewhere else entirely.

Preferably Mexico.

*which is entirely because he’s antisocial, and has nothing whatosever to do with his mun neglecting him.

[ooc: ~~my laptop is being wacky. If I disappear, it's probably exploded or something.~~ It's time for the sleeping. All tags will be picked up tomorrow!]

bright-burning.livejournal.com

The bar can be a fun place. Interesting, on occasion, and it's suitable for use as a distraction. Which is probably why Fire has turned up there.

She's sitting in a chair with her feet propped up on a nearby table, watching the Observation Window and idly lighting paper napkins on fire.

's a hard-knock life.