milliways_bar | Entries tagged with jed bartlet

bartletstrust.livejournal.com

Bartlet's at a booth, eyes half shut, listening to the music being played over the Bar's loudspeakers. He has a pint of Bass, thanks to the waitrats.

When he looks up, he sees the Door appear in the wall. For a second, he holds his breath, afraid he's hallucinating. Tired as he is, he doesn't trust his eyes, but when he looks away and returns a second later, it's still there.

Fair enough. He can't stay, health problems and his own conscience won't allow it.
One for the road, and then he's gone.

bartletstrust.livejournal.com

Tired, and sore, but determined, Jed trundles downstairs and heads for the lake door.
He read the sign that cautioned against trips outside after sundown, but it was only afternoon now.
He'd put his books away after realizing that he needed a break far more than he needed to go over the latest studies of global economic or ecological trends, or new technology.
It's almost winter, by the seasons here. He wants to enjoy the outdoors before it turns too cold even for an old Yankee.

bartletstrust.livejournal.com

Jed's in the bar tonight.

He's in a corner booth, trying to stay out of sight for the moment. There's a pot of hot water, two cups, and a box of looseleaf tea, which have most of his attention.
But not all!

bartletstrust.livejournal.com

Jed's hiking outside. Chilly or not, he'd started to feel a need to be out of the bar itself for a little while.
He had a coat, and boots that were better suited to autumn weather than his usual suit or dress shoes.
A pebble had gotten into one, and he paused to yank the boot off and shake it out. His fingers felt stiff. He swore under his breath, then looked around, a little guiltily.

[ETA:Millitimed to the evening of October 14th]

missginnytonic.livejournal.com

(OOM: Its past easter and past time to leave her Aunts. And with this Ginny is moving thought canon)

It might have just been a day bar time but, its been months for Ginny. It seems like its been forever and possibly a day. She wishes her worse worries were just being a kitten. That’s not to be. So with that Ginny walks thought the door. Many months older. Looking a little worn for the wear.

She walks in walking to a table laying her head on her folded arms. Taking a long breath just trying to. See something bright and cheery when everything seems dark and gloomy.

Would totally welcome company.

bartletstrust.livejournal.com

{OOM: Bartlet's morning after isn't so good]

He came downstairs for a cup of coffee, and stayed no longer than it took to get it and leave a

( note for Dr.Simon Tam )

The other note was for

( Annie Wells )

bartletstrust.livejournal.com

P R O W M!
Jed remembered very clearly how it had felt to change, so he doesn't take long to notice it when the sensations reoccur.
He makes it inside. Bar, seeming to understand "moooo" better than the patrons, gets him a robe

Quite the fashion statement! However, it still beats his unwilling induction into the Bovine Conspiracy.
He's just grateful it's over.

mogget_cat

A lavish assortment of sushi is displayed on the Bar.

Any brave soul who dares draw near should note the somewhat menacing presence of the not'cat with the pair of chopsticks nearby.

...Only somewhat menacing, for Yrael currently seems unable to choose which he wants to eat first.

bartletstrust.livejournal.com

Outside, by the lake. One Bovine Conspirator, watching the rocks nearby.

He's been unable to figure out how to talk, so far, and even if he did--He's not going to tell anyone who he is.

He's hoping that someone will figure out how to switch the transformed patrons back; 'wait until it wears off' isn't a solution to his mind.

Lacking magic, though, there's really not much else to do.

stubborn-annie.livejournal.com

Annie slips into the Bar with a quiet smile. For the first time in ages, her family's all together and more or less all right. Harry's at work and the bakery doesn't need her just at... the... moment...

Good Lord. That's a lot of random animals.

She, ah, may be staring for just a little bit.

bartletstrust.livejournal.com

It's been an odd sort of night for Jed.

He'd come indoors after his visit to the stables. Bumping into a chair wasn't something he paid much mind to,
but then he felt strange. The sudden urge to get outside hit him.
Needless to say, it's a good thing he did.

Now however, after the initial "wthellisthis" reaction wore off, he's poking his head cautiously through the door.

spooky-shrink.livejournal.com

Malcolm is once again at the bar, still working his way through a stack--slightly larger now--of the Eyewitness Guide to Philadelphia from several different worlds. He's decided to stick with the 2000 editions, since the city would be about the same as when he left it, but there would be no danger of his running into another world's Malcolm Crowe (or at least, he hopes that's the case).

It's been surprisingly hard to settle on Philadelphia in particular, though. At first, he figured that if a world actually had an Eyewitness Guide, then it's probably not that much different from the others (unlike, say, the worlds where everything is post-apocalyptic, or dinosaurs still reign, or something else that has put a damper on the publication of travel guides).

But, of course, now that he's actually reading some of these things, the differences are proving much more interesting than he expected.... And isn't that just Milliways for you.

and-far-away.livejournal.com

Wellington won't wait much longer. He's a man who expects to be obeyed, and the summons came almost a month ago already.

Sharpe's going to go - that was never really in doubt - he's just been putting off the departure. But that means he has to find someone to care for the children as soon as possible. Within a day or two, if possible, and then he can be on his way before Wellington decides to send him an escort.

He's got Patrick and Dominique with him today, as well as Danny the hunting dog, and he's looking for a few faces in particular. He'll talk to anyone else before he finds them, though.

bartletstrust.livejournal.com

Bartlet's started to look upon this as an extended vacation. He has never had a problem with finding ways to keep
busy, with or without work. With a chance to meet people from all over the universe, complaints of boredom are
the last thing he'd think of.

Today, he's out of doors. Someone mentioned that there's a stable here, and a forge. He's enough of an animal lover to have had his interest piqued.
So he's on his way toward the buildings that had been pointed out to him.

bartletstrust.livejournal.com

Jed fell asleep downstairs, after last night's Happy Hour.

This is largely due to the fact that the last time he got intoxicated, was when he was in his twenties. To be fair,
he didn't have all that much last night, barely a quarter of a glass. It's what was in it.
Three and a half sips and he was under the table.

So he woke up and found himself squashed into a booth, with a book of Middle Eastern poetry on his face.
He's hoping that he didn't sing or cause trouble...
but he has no idea one way or the other.

At the moment, he's only interested in water and Tylenol. Lots of both.

Fifth rule of Milliways: don't drink Atlantean unless you're immortal. *

(*Bartlet's Edition, Milliways Pub., ed 99)

(this is not meant to be serious or angsty. Feel free to have pups wander by and spin completely wild tales about what Jed was up to last night, should you be inclined.)

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

Indy and Mike are both behind the bar tonight, attempting to set up shop for Happy Hour. Progress is slow however, thanks to the (very small) steps they've been taking along the road to fitness. Their movements are a little more tentative than usual and there's a lot of wincing and grimacing going on. It's quite pitiful really, and probably one reason why they're sharing this shift.

"Y'know... we could just kidnap the weak or infirm applicants," Indy grumbles as he massages a thigh.

"That's a great idea. If it's one thing everyone loves, it's when people with full use of their bits prey upon those that don't," quips Mike with the only comedy weapon he has left: sarcasm.

Indy's reserves of retaliatory snark were depleted halfway through the second circuit of the lake today. All he can muster is a vaguely disparaging look. "It was just an idea— hey, what's this?" His attention is grabbed by a couple of steaming mugs and a tube of something that have just materialized on the counter.

"Your idea," Mike adds before slumping over Bar's top in a giant ninja-ex-turtle-shaped heap.
"ooof. bar says it's to make us feel better."

A napkin appears next to the mugs. In neat flowing script the following message takes shape:

Drink one and rub on the other.
Which one is up to you. :-)

Indy looks pretty skeptical. "That's sweet of her." His expression doesn't lighten any when he reads the label on the tube. "Tiger Balm? Sounds like some kinda sex lube you and Mel would use." He ignores that item for now and takes a big gulp from one of the mugs. "Mmm... drink's not bad though... for something that tastes dangerously like tea."

"Tiger balm! Score! I used to love this stuff as a kid." What Mike means by that is he used to eat the stuff as a kid. He reaches for the tube and unscrews the cap. Happily he takes a great big whiff. "The burning lets you know it's working."

"Then I'm definitely not using it, Indy decides. After another swig from his mug, the gallant explorer is feeling revitalized enough to serve some drinks. Someone's gotta, after all, and it doesn't look it's gonna be his still-flopped room-mate. He moves to his end of the bar and prepares to open Happy Hour."

Mike blinks. They must be making Tiger Balm stronger than they used to, because he thought he just heard Indy give needless exposition. Carefully he puts the cap back on the Tiger Balm, and picks up the tea. "Ooooh, chai!" He downs a sizable first gulp, and then nurses the rest.

"Indy rolls his eyes at his friend and makes the announcement to get things underway: Two 'tenders with serious muscle fatigue. No waiting... or at least, not much. What'll it be, folks?"

stubborn-annie.livejournal.com

[OOM: Taking the god's advice, Wells begins his journey out of Arcadia. It's a long one.

And it gets a hell of a lot longer thanks to a mistake he makes on the road to Delphi.]

Annie doesn't bother to check the notice board this morning. Security will find her soon enough, if there's been any change. She just fetches a piece of paper from the Bar and heads to the back door. Harry's continued absence is no reason to fail in her responsibilities, really. The sign she tacks up reads:

ATTENTION MILLIWAYS PATRONS

Tonight, September 26th, is the night of the full moon. Several Milliways patrons are werewolves, and use the woods outside as hunting grounds and sanctuary during that time. We strongly suggest, for your sake and theirs, that you remain indoors after moonrise.

Thank you.

She'll tack it up again tomorrow, but right now all she wants is some tea and a place to sit. And better news, of course, but she can go looking for that later if no one brings her any.

Oh- she's also got a couple of fruit tarts on a tray. Last night was mostly spent in baking to distract her from full moon being so close. They're harmless, we promise.

bartletstrust.livejournal.com

Old, reasonably stubborn and sociable human inna bar.

He's drinking hot tea, exasperated at himself. How difficult could it be for a published author and Ph. D to write a simple 'help wanted' ad for the bulletin board? Even for this place.

Answer would seem to be: just difficult enough for a small pile of crumpled notes to add up.

missginnytonic.livejournal.com

It's good to be out of cell's. Not that she wouldn't do it again. That git had it coming but. Still its good to be out anyway. She's sitting at the bar with a butterbeer would welcome company of any kind has only her self for company the last two days.

stubborn-annie.livejournal.com

[OOM: Yesterday, Harry Wells blinked, and when he opened his eyes, he was somewhere else.

He's still there. And it's not making him happy.]

The door opens on a kitchen in Yorkshire, and on an irritated-looking dark-haired woman in blue. "Excuse me," Annie calls as she steps into the Bar, "but has anyone seen my husband? Harry was supposed to come home last night for supper..."

bartletstrust.livejournal.com

Jed's at a corner booth.
He has a glass of wine, and a chess set.

The man's got the pieces laid out for both sides. It would appear that either his opponent is
invisible, or he's playing against himself.

And losing.

He'd probably like an interruption.

bartletstrust.livejournal.com

Jed is on his way out of his office, a necktie in one hand and his lit cigarette in the other, when he realizes that he's not in the West Wing. Again.

He blinks, and puts the tie in his pocket, to make his way over to Bar.

"You trying to help me dodge that press conference, ma'am, or is this just whim? Not that I'm complaining, mind.
There had to be one place in the universe no one was going to make me sign anything." With a pleased smile, he orders lunch with a side order of relaxation and people-watching.

thisfatefulhour

It's Friday afternoon; classes are out for the weekend.

He came through the door, but it's a lovely day out by the lake, sunny, with a hint of a breeze.

So there's a fair-haired young man outside, leaning against one of the large flat stones by the lake. He's barefoot, and he's reading poetry with a small, contented smile on his face.

I saw Eternity the other night
Like a great Ring of pure and endless light,
All calm as it was bright. . .

[ooc: Here. Ish. This is the best I can do for a tribute.

Expect slowtime.]

theravenboy

It is very rare, these days, for Bran Davies to find doors that lead to Milliways, and he has lost the trick of making the doors himself.

There is still a week or two left of Bran's summer. He has been helping move the sheep from pasture to pasture. When he steps through the gate out of the pasture, his big black sheepdog Lluchddu behind him, the gate becomes, all at once, the Milliways door.

Bran laughs and closes the door carefully behind himself and his dog, before the sheep decide to follow them to the end of the universe. "Tyrd yma, Lluchddu," he says, leading the dog out to the side of the lake.

[ooc: Expect slowtime to be very slow indeed.]

bartletstrust.livejournal.com

Bartlet's been in and out, and now here he is again.

His door seems to appear on a whim. Surely it's coincidence that it appears when he stopped looking for it.

Perhaps it's the "Landlord" manifesting a sense of humor. Of course, patrons here would say that that was the tip of the iceberg.
Come tell him about your experiences here! He'd love to know more, and politicians(even incognito) always want to meet new people.