The Bar at the End of the Universe

Joan walks into the Bar with a visible sway to her hips (though some would say that walk is almost characteristic of our Miss Holloway) and a cigarette between her fingers, softly humming a song under her breath.

It's been a particularly long - and hot - day at Sterling-Cooper. Ever since the air-conditioning decided to stop working, she's been cursing her decision to wear her stockings, and now she just needs to find an excuse to cool off.

That excuse comes in the form of an ice-cold glass of water and a seat at the corner booth, where she's discreetly trying to tug off her stockings without attracting unwanted attention.

It's been a good while since Joan last made an appearance in the bar - apart from cutting through to find her own door and head on into work, of course.

The scars on the inside of her wrist are there, but fading. There's color in her cheeks again - a soft pinkish hue all there on its own, without any need of fake blush whatsoever. And there may be a small, contented smile on her lips as she enjoys a cup of coffee (decaf, since it's later in the evening) in front of the fireplace.

She's dressed down today, too. A cozy sweater and a pair of slacks make up her outfit, and her hair is actually down for once, red curls freefalling over her shoulders.

Reluctant to get up anytime soon, Joan starts glancing around for a waitrat when her mug starts to be in need of a refill.


[tiny tag: joan holloway, urquhart]

[ Upstairs in Milliways, and out of:

Joan officially takes her leave from her world, and the bar - with a little help from the sheriff. ]


[ tiny tag: joan holloway]

Joan's sitting at the bar tonight in an almost-off-the-shoulder black silk dress and jewelry that appears to be worth much more than it actually is. (There's only so much a girl can afford on a office manager's salary, after all.)

There's a drink resting in front of her, but so far tonight, she hasn't touched it.

Instead, she's staring off into space, trying to wrap her mind around the evening's events - and Carol's words, still echoing in her head (just think of me as a boy, Joanie).

She finally takes a sip of her drink.

Actually, it's more than a sip, but who's really watching?


[ tiny tag: joan holloway ]

The sound of jazz follows Joan into the bar, as does the scent of cigarette smoke.

It might be early here in Milliways - even if it is, she's halfway through a girls' night out with her roommate, Carol, and the door to the ladies' restroom seems to have given way to the bar at the end of the universe, instead.

She brushes her red curls over one slightly bare shoulder and looks around for a familiar face as she steps to stand at one side of the bar.

---

Meanwhile, her nearly-identical twin is curled up in a booth far on the other side, painting her nails a shade of orangey-red - almost the shade of autumn leaves.

She's working on her second coat now, lifting her hand in front of her face to blow against her fingertips.

---

A woman who resembles neither of the previous two sits at a table of her own, working on a cold beer.

She's still not sure what to make of this place, but the bar seems to be on her side. (At least she's gone and served her the good stuff.)

---

The agent otherwise known as 99 is dancing by the lake.

Or, more accurately, she's stretching into what looks to be an impressive arabesque. It's a little chilly today, but not as much in the sun, and she's got leg warmers on, at least.

[ tiny tags: joan holloway, agent 99 ]
[ ooc: open until their nexts. ]

[ OOM: Out of Milliways, and into Twin Peaks:

A trip to the lake. ]


[ tiny tag: joan holloway ]

Since her last time behind the bar didn't wind up in disaster, Joan isn't surprised in the slightest when the note from Bar herself pops up again.

She doesn't glance twice at it, instead using it to blot a recent application of deep red lipstick, and then slips back behind the bar again, leaving the big red kiss on the crumpled napkin.

Five minutes later, the board reads the specials:

Old-Fashioned
White Russian
Gimlet

Joan fishes around in her purse for a cigarette; as such, she'll be a little distracted until she finds a light.

[ tiny tag: joan holloway ]

[ ooc: a little earlier tonight. tag in, tag often, tag each other. ]