milliways_bar | Entries tagged with jack o'neill

http://users.livejournal.com/_jack_oneill/

Stepping through the Stargate was always a rush. You know, swirly blue water...stuff that took you from one world to another in less than a second with little to know idea what really was on the other side. Unless, of course, they sent the MALP through and nothing blasted it away or ate it. Jack always liked the last possible idea because, well, big giant dinosaur eating a robot was like some B movie plot.

When the door opened into Milliways the uniformed, sunglassed and ballcaped, p90 wielding man waltzed in as if he was expecting to be somewhere else. Standing in the doorway with an expressionless face the leader of SG-1 glanced left then right before finally speaking. "Daniel? I think you didn't follow Dorothy's example and dialed home."

Welcome back to Milliways, Jack O'Neill.

[ooc: Wee! New mun, reset pup! If you had previous intereactins with Jack they can still stand- just expect total chaos and mild snark from the man. Any questions or what not feel free to ping the mun at MicaraSilverfox on AIM]

rebel-falcon.livejournal.com

They're on his ship. He knows they're on his ship. He can feel it. It's like...well there ain't really a phrase to describe Imps crawling all over your skin and poking around in...

...yeah, there ain't no words.

So when a panel in the floor pops up, yes the floor this time, not the ceiling, Han boosts himself up out of the smuggling compartment...

"...not again."

Yes, Han Solo, it's happened again.

Just be grateful you didn't come in from the ceiling and land on your head.

ooc: Han inna Bar. Han haz a new mun. Han's new mun is gonna try her best. Han says please don't eat the mun alive, kthnx? <3.

http://users.livejournal.com/_jack_oneill/

"You've gotta be kidding me."

Jack O'Neill stares at one of the placards provided -- less in a state of disbelief and more in horror that he does believe it. The bar's been possessed by the spirit of a mildly-incompetent renaissance painter or ninja turtle? That just ain't right.

"Screw this," he mutters, and instead of risking an order, he rounds the bar to get himself a beer.

Looks an awful lot like he's 'tending, standing back there.

In his starship captain uniform.

zapgunfh.livejournal.com

Buck knew about the outside area. But he did not knew about the firing range.

Nope, he is not using it, he is just watching the space, guessing its use, and wondering if they have something that Junior would not blast to bits. He looks slightly puzzled, and probably, open to chat.

http://users.livejournal.com/_jack_oneill/

"A bar in my office!"

Jack O'Neill glances around Milliways as he steps through, pleased, and heads straight for Bar.

"Well, you don't get that every day, even when you want it. Jack and Coke, please-- no, wait ... paperwork. Orange juice, please."

Helpfully, Bar provides a glass of orange juice and a stack of forms very much like the ones on Jack's desk that he was about to go fill out.

"...I wasn't asking for paperwork..."

no-comb-shep.livejournal.com

After the time of it he's had lately, Sheppard isn't quite surprised when he finds himself in Milliways instead of his quarters. But that still doesn't stop him from muttering, "Dammit." As he glances around. After a quick check to make sure that the door hasn't vanished yet again, he begins to make his way over to the bar. Maybe if he gets a drink, he'll appease the powers the be and will be able to get out without having to wait several months.

And so Sheppard can now be found sitting at the bar and drinking a beer while sending the occasional wary look towards the door.

http://users.livejournal.com/_jack_oneill/

"Whaddya know, a magic bar," Jack says as he walks into Milliways instead of his office. "Couldn't it have turned up before I got my ass talked off by scientists?"

Progress reports on rocks ("So, what is it? A new explosive? A cure for cancer?" "It reacts with potassium!" "Does it blow up?" "No, it melts." "...") aren't among his favourite ways to spend a late afternoon.

"Jack Daniels on the rocks," he says to Bar. It's still not there by the time he hops up on a bar stool and rolls up his sleeves, so he rolls his eyes and adds, "Please."

He doesn't exactly receive a generous amount of whiskey.

He sighs.

[ooc: class time! back at 4pm edt. ♥ ]

doh-nutlover.livejournal.com

The door to the Bar swings open, there's nothing unusual about this except for the fat, bald guy in his underpants that walks through it.

Homer glances around the Bar suspiciously while scratching his butt.

"Marge...When did we have Bar put into the bathroom?"

He looks over his shoulder waiting for Marge's reply but there's only a wall there now. He shrugs his shoulders and heads towards the Bar.

"Bartender? Anyone serving here?" He scratches his ass again and waits to see if a Bartender appears.

(OOC: Homer Simpson in da Bar. Come on people you know you've always wanted to play with Homer!)

iam-america.livejournal.com

Stephen's first reaction was to be admirably impressed by the obvious care that had been taken in extending and renovating up this restroom. He had long complained about the facilities in this building, and all to no avail, so it was gratifying to see his demands had at last been carried through. And not only in terms of space, no: The men's room had received a complete and very creative makeover, having been dressed up to reflect the inside of a bar, obviously in some clever attempt to engage patrons and make them feel at home as they relieved themselves.

The attention to detail was amazing. The bar atmosphere had been captured perfectly, right down to the tables, chairs, alcohol and bathroom attendants charmingly dressed up as staff. Some patrons, mellowed by the relaxed atmosphere of the restroom, had even paused on their way out to have a drink or a meal. What a brilliant idea!

The pundit was just scanning the walls in search of the urinals when he made a truly shocking discovery: The door through which he'd arrived had vanished!

In vain he searched, scrabbling against the bare space of wall that had previously held a door, but it was gone, gone! Desperately, he pushed past the other patrons, seeking an exit, a sign, anything--! Alas, his toe caught on a shoe that had been left carelessly lying around on somebody's foot and he was sent sprawling. He landed on his hands and knees right in front of the End of the Universe.

Slowly, Stephen looked up.

Naturally, he did what any reasonable man in his situation would do. He screamed like a little girl.

http://users.livejournal.com/_jack_oneill/

This time, Jack enters on his own wearing his base uniform, and it's his office that Milliways has apparently replaced. His first instinct is to spin round and check the door is still there; satisfied, he continues to the Bar, whistling and side-stepping any rodents along the way.

He still doesn't quite get how this works, but he watches the counter for a second before saying clearly, "Guinness, please."

It takes a while -- alternate universe or not, zatting Bar will never endear you to her -- but eventually Jack and his beer are happily acquainted.

He may or may not be looking for anyone he recognises as he drinks.

rebel-jaffa.livejournal.com

~~A jaffa walks into a bar...~~

Even though it happens, it's not meant to.

Teal'c turns around slowly, and archs an eyebrow in suspicion when there's no stargate behind him. He doesn't say much--until he realizes the rest of SG-1 hasn't accompanied him to this location.

"Major Carter?"

Pause.

"Daniel Jackson?"

Another pause.

"Colonel O'Neill?"

Someone care to stop him before he calls off EVERYONE he knows in roll-style fashion?

[OOC:New mun, AU Teal'c. If you've seen him before, don't hesitate to say hi--if not, come'n get him!]

bring_a_sponge

Zed is sitting in one of the booths, and the table in front of him is covered with printouts. "Blueprints" doesn't quite seem appropriate. Better to call them "blackprints."

Zed is both studying and not studying them. Not studying them because, really, he knows the layout of MiB Headquarters by heart. But it's been a while since he had to retake the facility from an enemy force, and he's never had to do it against something as insidious as Black Oil.

So he's studying them. Planning tactics. And drinking whiskey. But mostly planning.

http://users.livejournal.com/_jack_oneill/

"Well, it's not quite what I had in mind, Thor ... but at least it has a bar."

There are two new and mildly-confused patrons standing just inside the door -- as it shuts behind them, one might catch a glimpse of a desk covered in ancient -- and Ancient -- artifacts. The speaker is an Air Force general in full uniform; his companion, an archaeologist in a smart-looking suit. This is, obviously, not where they expected to be.

"...I don't think Thor is here, Jack."

"Well, who else beamed us to the restaurant? Or ... a restaurant."

"I don't think anyone beamed us, either."

"But this isn't the corridor outside your office."

"It's also not an Asgard ship or a restaurant in Colorado Springs. And I don't see Sam or Teal'c."

"All right, you explain where we are and how we got here, then."

This isn't something the archaeologist can do right away, and they both return briefly to peering at their surroundings and trying to work out just why they don't appear to be in Colorado anymore.

Say hi to Jack O'Neill and Daniel Jackson, folks!

[ooc: two pups, two muns -- expect both! also, we know these two have been in the bar before, and that millicanon still stands, so if your pup recognises either jack or daniel, go for it. they won't know about it though, since these versions haven't been in the bar before. but parallel universes (along with clones, robots, replicators, time travel, etc) = par for the course in stargate canon. FUN TIMES.

ETA 1am(!!!) -- sleep time for the muns, we love you all, and we will tag slowtimes. ♥]

http://users.livejournal.com/_jack_oneill/

Jack is at his table, and after long negotiations with a waitrat, he has procured a whole box of Froot Loops, milk, a bowl and a spoon. He's looking quite pleased with himself, really.

http://users.livejournal.com/_jack_oneill/

Jack O'Neill is at the bar, drinking a Jack Daniel's and wearing a paint-splattered t-shirt.

asar-suti.livejournal.com

Asar-Suti is in the half-finished staff quarters again.

He's been conjuring things for quite a while now: wallpaper, paint, glue, doorknobs, tiles, washbasins, rolled-up carpeting, DIY floowboards, what have you, he's busy making it.

And a few cardboard packages of purportedly easy-to-build kitchen cabinets, for those of the staff who get their own small kitchens in their quarters.

He's got a tan bathtub and nice, fiddly brown-and-green mosaic tiling already secreted away, set aside for Gil's future bathroom.

The place is busy; people are bustling about, demanding more of this or that, asking each other how something works, and lending each other hands, arms and other body parts for the more arduous tasks.

The goal of finishing this weekend looks quite realistic.

[[OOC: This is the second of the building site posts that I'd suggested; if your character volunteered to help or just likes to lend a hand, come on in - fly-by posts to establish your pup was there, long chats and brief interludes all equally welcome!]]

http://users.livejournal.com/_jack_oneill/

Jack's in the bar, reading Daniel's dog-earred copy of Homer's Odyssey. He likes the action, and this Odysseus dude seems to have as much trouble with the gods as he's had, though Jack himself has a much better sense of direction.

He finds himself somewhat disappointed that there's nothing about the Simpsons, so far.

[ooc: Mun at school, apologies for slow responses, etc.]

youalleverybody.livejournal.com

Liam comes downstairs from the guest quarters, where he spent the night, and makes for the bar.

His expression is grim and determined. He's waiting.

http://users.livejournal.com/_jack_oneill/

Jack's ~~INNA BOX~~ in the bar. His clothes are still slightly dusty from helping Asar-Suti out with the building work, and, having done something constructive around the place, he's not feeling at quite such a loose end.

Current Mood: good

timsbooks.livejournal.com

*The great black metal shell is still there. The line of energy still connects it to the door. But as one watches, the line begins to fade, the energy retreating back to the saftey of the shell. Little red cracks appear in the metal, almost seeming to glow from within, spiderwebbing across the surfac eof the sphere, until there is little black left, mostly red.... and then it shatters, fading to the ground, evaporating as it touches the floor. Whats left is a table, some chairs....and Tim. He doesn't look good. His hair is unwashed, his face unshaven. His black clothes hang loosely from his frame, even worse then normal. He hasn't eaten since he started this, and his magic has been drawing directly from him. The boy is exhausted. one doesn't even need to see his eyes behind dark sunglasses to know he's tired. But he did it. He contacted Ace. And thats what matters, right? Not this silly health thing.*

faithful-slayer.livejournal.com

Faith. Piano. 'Moonlight Sonata'. Jack Daniels. Insert + signs where necessary.

http://users.livejournal.com/_jack_oneill/

Looking slightly sleepy, Jack wonders downstairs from the room he has been sharing with Daniel. After shooting Bar when aiming for his double, MacGyver, she refused to serve him, or give him a room, and Jack ended up sleeping in Daniel's bed. Room. Bedroom. On the floor. Yes.
He is wearing a black t-shirt and shorts - he was in camos when he arrived in the bar, so he's borrowed what he can.

http://users.livejournal.com/_jack_oneill/

Jack comes downstairs and pins a note to the bar's noticeboard.

Daniel:-

If you are not a) Dead, b) Addicted to a sarcophagus, c) being held captive by blue sushi, meet me in the bar for beers tonight.

~You know who.

He then turns around...

http://users.livejournal.com/_jack_oneill/

Jack is in the bar, being his usual insulting self and calling people 'bar-keep.' He rented a room last night as he's still bound, and he's not found Daniel yet.