milliways_bar | Entries tagged with gavin darklighter

Strange things are afoot at the ~~Circle K~~ Bar at the End of the Universe.
The door to the Staff Hallway is propped open and the hallway itself is lined with balloons of the purple, silver, and the brightest of orange. Music of the dance variety can be heard reverberating down the hall. The smell of tasty and delectable deliciousness hangs heavy in the air.

Outside festivity also abounds. The beach surrounding the Caribbean Inlet is dotted with Tiki torches, and a rather sizable bonfire pit appears to have been freshly excavated.

Come one!
Come all!
Eat, Drink, and be Merry for tomorrow the Universe ends....every hour on the hour.... just like yesterday.

jawaswag.livejournal.com

There are three good things about Milliways.

First is his boyfriend.

Second is the lomin ale.

Third is the flight sims.

Seeing as Gavin has already spent all morning on the third good thing and can't find the first right now, he is currently sitting at a booth with the second.

People watching isn't that bad.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

Atton comes downstairs, dressed for travelling, and stops off briefly to leave several notes with the bar.

( Note for Guppy. )

( Note for Will. )

( Note for Kate. )

( Note for Gavin. )

( Note for Sam. )

( Note for anyone who might be interested. )

With notes done, Atton downs a glass of water and heads out.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

Atton's been hitting stuff, and now he's taking up space to annoy people. Both are good pastimes.

Thus, he's sprawled out across the length of the sofa, hands behind his head, with his sword, jacket, shirt and boots on the floor next to him. He's looking rather thoughtful.

After all, there are Important Things to be thinking about.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

[OOM: Atton accepts a mission, and then crashes a few days later.]

Atton looks distinctly unhappy as he walks in, soaking wet, with a cut on his forehead. He pauses, for a moment, to shake himself off, before going to slump down at a booth and brood at passersby.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

[OOM: A snippet from a holiday.]

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

Atton has notes all written.

( Guppy. )

( Will. )

( Sam. )

( Everyone else who might be interested. )

With that done, Atton goes and settles down on the sofa with his bag, so that people can catch him before he leaves, if they want to.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

Atton is packing. He's not leaving just yet, but he's getting the few things he wants to take with him packed.

He's still walking a little awkwardly, but his bruises have faded some more, even if they remain very noticeable, and while he doesn't look cheerful as such, he seems content enough.

Botherable.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

Sleepy Atton is sleepy.

He's sprawled out somewhat haphazardly on the sofa, bare feet dangling off the end, with his coat on the floor. Possibly it was being used as a blanket once, but was at some point flung off. Atton isn't a very restful sleeper - There's muttering, and slightly distressed noises, and squirming about.

Botherable. He'll probably be pleased if he's woken up. Less so if he's sat on.

[OOC: Okay, off for sleep, will pick up tags in the morning.]

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

Atton is outside, training.

He has a dozen or so floating targets, like dartboards, zipping around him very quickly and firing stun bolts down at him from tiny holes at the sides. It's very obvious that he cobbled them together from various machines.

He's blindfolded, and he's alternating between throwing knives at them with one hand and shooting them with another, while dodging the stun bolts. Judging by the bright, chirpy green flashes and the heavy blaster scoring and multiple knife marks on and immediately around the bullseye, he's doing quite well.

He may be grinning from ear to ear, because it's reassuring to know that he's not helpless without the Force.

guppy_sandhu

In a cosy corner near the fire the circle of chairs is set out.

As well as the usual selection of snacks, there is hot chocolate, tea and coffee. And chocolate croissants.

And of course a Guppy, and a Miniver. Though the former's only had three hours sleep in as many days, so he might be a little slow on the uptake.

LIFE SUPPORT
Open to all

[ooc: Come one, come all. Chat about doom, woe, something happy, ~~what your pup wants to do to Atton~~, or whatever. Or just come for the free food. Also the signup sheet for the Christmas/hogswatch/hanukkah/winter solstice/other party is on the table. Completed forms in the link please :)

~~Guppy-mun has nipped to a carol service,~~ back ~~in an hour or two, sorry~~

Miniver-mun is available at SonOfWormWeaver]

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

Atton's still not around.

A note from him shows up anyway.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

Atton is out back, shoes and shirt discarded at the bottom of a nearby tree, punching the remains of a man made of straw and wood and punching bags. It wasn't a particularly realistic man to start with, and by now it's so mangled that it doesn't really look that much like a human.

He also has paint on him. Some in his hair, some on his face some on his chest, stomach and trousers. The reason of this? He spent a lot of time playing about with paints while painting a very cheerful looking smiley face on the man, before going to the effort paint very crude clothes on it, and a beard. It's not very artistically done.

Botherable.

jawaswag.livejournal.com

Gavin has three favorite things about Milliways. The first, of course, would be his boyfriend. The second, usually is the lomin ale. And the third? That sim room right upstairs.

It's been weeks since the last time he logged time on those machines and he had completely forgotten just how astral they were. After completing the Death Star run once again, he's come downstairs to celebrate with his second (and possibly first) favorite things.

So: pilot in a bright orange flightsuit at a booth with a big mug of bright green lomin ale in hand. He looks smug.

And rightly so.

necessary_child

This EP has no cute. This EP needs no cute.

What this EP does have, though, is Sam and Atton, apparently dozing, curled up on a sofa in front of the fire. Sam appears to have been reading – at least, there’s a book almost-dropping from his hand, his wrists still clearly marked with bruises – but his head is now resting on Atton’s shoulder. Atton’s flopped out along the full length of the sofa, one arm vaguely draped around Sam. His position vaguely suggests that he was trying to read over Sam's shoulder.

There is no cute here. (Though there is, naturally, total platonic...ness. Honest.)

[OOC: Two pups, two muns, tag either, tag both! Specify if you like, but be warned that the other is almost certainly going to chip in.]

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

[OOMs: In a Coruscant art gallery, Atton (after a tiny bit of persuasion) gains himself an ally. On some far flung Outer Rim world, Bob does the same.]

Atton's sitting in a booth, not looking especially pleased with anything, really. His fingers are steepled, and bright blue sparks are jumping from them, and he's frowning. He hasn't stopped frowning for quite a while, really - Trouble seems to keep stacking up.

He's trying to immerse himself in reading a book (the cover appears to just be plain grey, with no markings, so it's difficult to tell what it is) but it's not working so well. The book was meant to be funny, but Atton doesn't much feel like laughing.

Botherable.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

Atton heads downstairs, whistling cheerily, and dropping a note (for anyone interested) on the bar:

Out of quarantine, not diseased.

- AR.

And then promptly goes to sprawl out on the sofa. He's very good at taking up all the possible space so that nobody else can sit down on it.

Botherable.

bothan-rebel.livejournal.com

The door opens and a petite Bothan female, black-furred and violet-eyed, steps smartly through, poised to stand to attention should a superior be present on the other side.

This pose lasts barely a moment before her surroundings--most manifestly not the briefing room she was expecting--register, as does the very human bystanders that populate the environment.

This is most definitely nowhere on Bothawui, particularly nowhere Military Intelligence would choose to debrief an operative. She reaches her hand, tipped with delicately sharp claws, back to grasp the doorknob, but--

It doesn't turn.

Well, now. This has gone from a routine situation to something potentially very dangerous. She doesn't quite drop her hand to her hidden vibroblade, or her holstered blaster, but--

The impulse is there nonetheless.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

While there aren't actually any storm clouds above Atton's head (well, today, anyway) there might as well be. He looks exceptionally miffed at just about anything and everything as he heads to the Bar and drops off several notes.

( Note for Gavin Darklighter. )

( Note for Sam Linnfer. )

And with that done, he pulls the suspensor harness on over his clothing and heads out the door.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

[OOMs: After a rather sudden attack, Atton is hired, attacked again and gets another job.

Some time later, he hides in a crate, gets captured and is brought before an old face.

Lots of joy ensues.]

Atton stumbles through the door, lightsaber ignited in one hand, a blaster in the other. He's grinning, with more than a little bit of a manic edge, despite him being bruised, and bleeding from several shallow cuts, among other relatively minor injuries. His eyes are closed.

There's a haze, surrounding him, rippling and shifting around him, shoving away anything that comes within four feet of him. As he enters, and brushes a chair, it goes flying into a nearby wall.

A few moments later, the door slams shut.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

Atton may not look like the most cheerful thing ever as he comes downstairs, cursing quietly as he realises he's late, and writes up the Specials, but he does, at least, not look like he wants to kill everything that gets in his line of sight. Which is a vast improvement from last week. He's smiling, a bit, though it can't be seen as he flicks through the book of cocktails.

Specials.
Chocolate Bomb.
Chocolate Buzz.
Chocolate Beverage.

"Free chocolate with every drink." Atton says when he's finished writing them up, putting the book aside and heading behind the Bar, giving the patrons a quick grin.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

Atton's sprawled out on the sofa, looking upwards and not really doing much else. There's no cloud of smoke around him or bottle of unpleasant looking alcohol by him today, he just seems to be deep in thought, lying there and frowning to himself, and lacking much of his usual energy.

Botherable.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

Atton's flicking through his book of cocktails as he wanders towards the bar, crashing into several tables (there are yelps and vague shouts of 'meant to do that!' whenever he does) on the way before eventually, somehow, managing to get to the Specials board.

Specials.
Dark 'n' Dirty.
All Night Long.
Star Burst.

He stumbles behind the Bar, waving one arm to the patrons.
"And there's the possibility of a discount if you ask for a drink with either a really, really suggestive name, or a name that makes people not want to drink it."

jawaswag.livejournal.com

Wes is Otherwise Occupied.

Gavin isn't exactly sure what this means, but like many things dealing with Wes Janson, he's learned better than to ask.

Well, ask Wes anyway.

The point is, today, when a tall and lanky man in a rather obnoxious cloak displaying images of dancing Wes-es steps behind the bar, it isn't Wes Janson. It's Gavin Darklighter, looking ever so awkward (not to mention clumsy in the cloak) at being here. Cantinas and tapcafes don't exactly teach you how to bar tend, and Wes' crash course in the brothel earlier in the week only left Gavin with a sense of embarrassment for being in the brothel.

So, what's left? Following Wes' instructions, of course. Which is why the Specials sign has a nice (okay, horribly drawn) picture of an Ewok smiling at you, with the words Lomin Ale and Lum to the side written in shaky English that probably took a whole ten minutes to write.

And now, Gavin has nothing else to do but turn to Milliways and smile, awkwardly, as the Wes-es on the cape continue to dance.

[ooc: mun here till about 3 pm EST when she flees for class and to pick up Wes-mun from the bus station!]