milliways_bar | Entries tagged with hyde

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

The cocktail party upstairs is in full swing.

andmisterhyde.livejournal.com

...Well motherfarkin' A.

Hyde is in the bar.

...Standing at the waaaaaaaaaaay back of the room, arms folded, shades on.

andmisterhyde.livejournal.com

Hyde's here, in red courderoys, patterned shirt and suede vest, funking the place up.

He doesn't appear to be passed out. In fact, he's tossing a deck of 51 into a floppy black pimp hat.

There is also a glass of water containing a goldfish sitting on the table.

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

Indy re-enters through the back door with Faith. After thanking the slayer, he makes his way to the bar unaccompanied, still clutching his jaw. His chin is swollen on the left side, the murky signs of deep bruising starting to show through his stubble there.

He eases onto a stool and eyes the rows of liquor opposite.

"Ice. In a bucket preferably. And... more tea."

He takes a handful of ice from the container when it arrives, laying the pieces in his handkerchief, wrapping them up and tentatively pressing them to his cheek.

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

( Indy and Hyde visit the garage )

( Mikey comes clean )

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

Indiana Jones sits at the bar: cool, calm… collected. Or perhaps quiet, introspective and pissed off.

What's new about that?
Well, for a start, there's no alcohol in sight. Coffee seems to be his friend though.

the-woodpecker.livejournal.com

*The sun is shining just as brightly as it did yesterday.

Surprisingly, the lakeside isn't completely trashed. The remnants of the bonfire are still smouldering, and there are patrons scattered here and there on the grass, sleeping on blankets or just lounging in the afternoon sun.

There are tables piled with food, ready for patrons to help themselves.

And, of course, there's a bar.*

etananesoe.livejournal.com

( Wash )

( Roland )

( Divis Mal )

( Hyde-sexual content )

( Alanna )

( Angel )

( Indiana )

Mmmkay. About half the above wanted no credit, so we'll leave it at "Madb wrote none of those"

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

[Out of Milliways: Nyarlathotep aftershocks]

R: Language, mild violence and adult imagery

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

Doctor Jones is enjoying Sunday lunch at the bar. Roast pork, potatoes, carrots and parsnips, with a side of apple sauce and the all crucial crackling. He chows down, taking an occasional palate-cleansing sip of Theakston's Best. He's pretty focused on the food to be fair, which is a great testament to Gil and the rats.

andmisterhyde.livejournal.com

Hyde is at the bar, in his Stones shirt and jeans, looking over a mess of eight-tracks and cassettes. His boot is tapping to some invisible beat, and he's smoking. The snark implied in the title has not yet happened, but rest assured it will if you join his thread.

And if that's not a sell, I don't know what is.

coolhandlucas.livejournal.com

Lucas is sitting at a corner table, watching the other patrons of the bar tonight.

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

[Post-Milliways Thursday: Carnage in Raph's tent]

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

[Pre-Milliways: The bungler on the roof]

* A lemony-smelling Indiana Jones lets himself in through the back door, apparently unaware of the duel in progress out by the lake. His jacket and pants have a freshly pressed look about them and his hat is tilted at a jaunty angle for some unknown reason. He totes an equipment bag across the bar and pushes it under a stool before hopping on top of it and pulling out a bottle of Jack Daniels from inside his coat. As he sets it on the counter a glass appears with a few ice cubes in it *

Oh well... if you insist.

* he pours himself a healthy measure and looks around for familiar faces *

maid-of-astolat.livejournal.com

Elaine comes down into the bar with her drawing supplies and gets busy sketching.

Please, come bother her, the lilymaid loves company.

leplusbeau

*Fleur slips through the front door, trying to be as unnoticeable as possible when in a ball gown with a the train the length of a quidditch pitch. For once, her hair is piled a top her head in a graceful fall of curls. Instead of diamonds as she has been wearing her last few visits, she has a simple white ribbon tied about her neck. She closes the door, and hovers just out of the crowd. It has been so long yet such a short time since she has been here, and she does feel out of place. She wrinkles her nose. What an odd feeling.*

the-woodpecker.livejournal.com

*Paper-white, Bernard walks behind the bar from his table where Charlie Weasley and Crowley still sit talking amiably. He takes a deep breath and lights a new cigarette off the old one.*

Welcome to Milliways Happy Hour.

Drink specials tonight are Strongbow, Guinness, and Bushmill's Whiskey.

Food specials also have a distinctly Irish theme, as you might have guessed.

Now. What'll you have?

Current Mood: uncomfortable

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

* If there are any more depressed characters slumped over at the bar tonight drinking and being generally pissy, then they'd do well to stay clear of Indy. Cos Indiana Jones looks like the most pathetic tragedy this bar has ever played host to... at least tonight. You can almost hear the angst. There's a half empty bottle of Scotch in front of him, indicating a more traditional hangover cure has been employed over the early part of the evening. And he looks like actual shit... not just the proverbial version. Through the frequent groans and growls he can be heard muttering to himself angrily on occasion *

* If I didn't know him better, I'd say he's quite happy being left alone tonight. But I do know him better, thankfully, and all he probably needs is an understanding friend... or Hyde? *

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

[Post/Pre-Milliways: Hyde's room]

* Hyde, Mike and Indy appear at the top of the stairs chuckling to each other. Hyde and Mike head on down while Indy seems to notice an interesting mark on the wall which he proceeds to stare at for several minutes *

* Eventually he decides that the mark is not actually that interesting. He treads carefully, peering closely at each stair as he descends. To a casual observer it might not be apparent that he hasn't actually been to bed. Nor that he's spent the last twenty four hours in Hyde's room... doing whatever it is that happens in Hyde's room. What they would notice is that he is sporting a rather large amount of twinkie cream matted into his hair and splotched across his face. Quite fetching really *

* The scruffy explorer is already in conversation with someone — possibly himself or possibly the stairs *

Each stair is an independent being with its own dimensions and angles. One must treat each step with the respect it deserves. Stairs have rights too. Don't you? We need to get some carpeting on this one, it looks cold. Oh you do have carpet. That's nice. Very comfy. Mmmm... soft under my feet. Feet have feelings too you know? Not independent ones... but still, you gotta take them into consideration with the whole walking on stuff thing. It'd be real hard to walk if you got your feet stolen for example. 'Specially down stairs. Right?

* Once he has reached the bottom of the staircase he just stands there looking at his feet for a while, wondering why they haven't answered his question. Through sunken bloodshot eyes Indy squints at the bar with his mouth curled in an immovable smirk. He spies Hyde *

I seeeee you! FOOD! And bananas!

* He runs over and bounces onto a stool next to Hyde, peering up and down the length of the counter curiously *

maid-of-astolat.livejournal.com

Elaine is sitting at a booth, drinking beer and reading The Feminist Fairy Tales: A Collection from 2060. She has noticed that the tales are a bit...different from the ones she's heard before.

mnt_raph

*Raph tromps in from the lake dressed all in black save for the red scarf tied around his neck and carrying a sizable box of wrapped presents, which he sorts and places under the tree.
Meg, Peter, Elizabeth, Angelina, Andrew, Tim, Bernard, Bartleby, Fleur, Alanna and Snow please click here for your gifts.

At any rate, he's beyond surprised to see gifts for him under the tree. The once mostly empty box is full again. He makes his way over to a table and just gawks at the boxes. There are names he recognizes; Alanna, Peter, Angie, Bernard Fleur, and...wait who's Ron again? A stocking he didn't even know he had is full of candy he didn't know existed. There are three boxes that have no From name listed, and one he can only assume is for him, though he's going to ask Death about this To Death's Prettyboy Boyfriend of hers.*

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

[Pre-Milliways: Indy's room]

* Huffing and puffing, Indy struggles downstairs, supporting himself on the banister and lurching between empty chairs and tables once he gets to the main floor. Hobbling pathetically, he reaches the bar and eventually manages to drag himself up onto a stool. He catches the eye of the nearest wait-rat and wheezes his order breathlessly *

Jeeeesus! You'd better make this worth my effort. Triple Jack, and leave the bottle.

andmisterhyde.livejournal.com

Hyde keeps wandering through the bar and out the lake door and back again. He has a blanket draped over his arm, like the weird velour kind you'd find in a hotel room. First he gets a chair, and brings that outside. He comes back inside.

He gets a ridiculous amount of plastic cups.

He takes them outside.

He comes back inside and puts a hastily scrawled (on a piece of cardboard, with red magic marker) sign on the bar, propped up against an empty mug. It reads:

PARTY --->

...with the arrow towards the lake door.

Then off he goes, closing the door behind him.

[OOC: Hyde's having a kegger. Open to one and all! It may be cold outside, but Alanna's magical purple bonfire rages...and more important, there is BEER.]

coolhandlucas.livejournal.com

Lucas comes downstairs, heads over to the bar, and reclaims his laundry.

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

* Indy's been sitting at the bar for some time. Alone. Knocking back the whiskey and staring off into nothingness. Pretty typical night really. Drinking and thinking. Thinking and drinking. The rats don't care. He drinks his share, pays his tab with various oddments and priceless artifacts, falls over once in a while, flirts a bit when Tere isn't around — fairly unassuming for the most part. Why should they care? They just serve the drinks. And Indy drinks them *

* Anyway, he's there... *