milliways_bar | Entries tagged with john allerdyce

Someone is singing as the door opens.

"Mirai yori mo, ima ga kanjin- WHOA!" Coming into the bar with snow and ice caked on the bottom of his boots, Duo hits smooth and damp wood floor instead of a non-slip doormat.

Loaded down with a backpack and a MYSTERIOUS shopping bag, he slides forward several feet, narrowly avoids doing a split, and finally comes to a stop against a table. A small box flies out of the bag, but he kicks it back into the air, and it lands neatly back where it belongs.

There is nothing for it but to do jazz hands, after all that. So he does. "Ta-da!"

ilcattivo.livejournal.com

(The Bad.)

The door opens on fire.

There are people in the world(s) who like fire, it must be said; pyromaniacs and pyrokineticist and mad bombers. There's a little bit of that in everyone; it was a pleasure to burn.

This isn't that fire.

This is fire with a vengeance, without mercy, with cruel intent and voiceless voice.

Faithless. Heartless. Forsaken and unloved. Lost, lost and by the wind grieved.

Unfound.

The door opens on hellfire, and the man who enter does not enter with dignity or swagger or anything but abject fear and terror and desperate relief. He's dressed all in sooty black; what wasn't black now is. His trim moustache is a mockery of vanity on his gaunt face.

He still has his gun, and he still has his hat; it has a bullet hole in it. So does he.

The man known sometimes as Gabriel Sentenza re-enters Milliways Bar, humbled. With the door slammed behind him he sinks to the ground and leans against the wall, eyes still half-mad with fear.

He smells like brimstone.

drake-bobby.livejournal.com

As far as solo Danger Room sessions went, this was the worse he'd ever had to experience. He'd been decapitated twice, smashed to smithereens and now that he'd rebuild himself sans leather uniform, he'd lost sight of the target.

Again.

Gigantic sentinel or not, the damn thing was more like a chameleon. Lowering his body temperature, he returned to organic ice form and traveled through a series of ice-bridges, deciding to scout the enemy from above.

"Here, kitty, kitty." Traveling rapidly, by causing the ice to form beneath and behind his feet, he pushed himself along the slick surface.

Spotting a lake toward the north end, Iceman headed straight toward it. It was high time for the sentinel to pick on someone his own size. Diving straight into the lake, he absorbed the water, converting his body to gigantic proportions.

As he stepped out, a door appeared to his right. Iceman's brow furrowed slightly. It wasn't big enough to accommodate his size. Curiosity, however, got the best of him.

Reversing the transformation, he turned the doorknob and stepped inside.

((Bobby Drake's in organic ice form. Feel free to react to that and welcome him if you'd like!))

pyroinferno.livejournal.com

As he opens his eyes, there is a stinging bright light that fills his pupils with the daylight outside. Shielding his vision and stepping up with an overbearing headache, John Allerdyce aka Pryo, stares in disbelief at what he sees before him. Alcatraz is no longer there. No, not obliterated into millions of pieces, but physically not on the same ground as he stands now. Ahead of John appears to be a bar of some sort; small, but cozy, he almost expects this to be some sort of trick. He'd been transfered to this location while he was unconscious and beaten by an old friend.

blond-w-brain.livejournal.com

Blond-Egon walks into the bar in full array, and pins a note up on the board:

ATTENTION Those who have offered to assist with the rescue of Ray Stantz. We have received numerous offers of assistance, but for this part of the mission we believe it best to be a small team. Therefore, my counterpart and myself have picked those best suited to going. They are:

Foxtrot X-Ray
Daniel Fenton
Peter Venkman
Both Dr. Egon Spenglers

We appreciate your offers of assistance, and are certain that Ray will, as well. However, we do not know what the situation will be, and therefore feel it to be counterproductive to bring more than a small team with us. Anyone else who has wished to be involved in this rescue, we ask you stand by in case assistance is needed, whether medical, physical, spiritual or clerical. Regards, Dr. Egon Spengler (the blond one)

That done, Egon sits at a table, waiting for the forces to gather. He's sure that someone will be annoyed.

(( OOM: Gone to Montana to rescue Ray, back later. ))

gone_byebye

Ray is quietly going over a series of images on a small black computerized device given him a while ago by one Agent K. It's a fascinating experience to a guy from 1987.

He's really hoping he gets to keep it when he goes home.

kitchen_maid

Amy, with tea and cookies and a book.

It's a good night to just relax, and see if there are any friends to catch up with.

god-among-bugs.livejournal.com

Pyro in the bar.

He's eating eggs and Nova, potato hash, and some sort of flavored coffee. He thinks it might be Green Mountain, but Pyro usually doesn't care about brands. In any case, it tastes good.

He's a little disappointed because the bar wouldn't give him the materials raw so he could cook his own. Apparently, it doesn't trust him because he hasn't given up his "weapon" yet.

Excuse him if he doesn't quite trust a flat surface that can materialize objects out of nowhere.

Still, the bar hasn't tried to poison him yet, so he might ask it for a key. He's been bumming around for the past few weeks, and even though he's spent time in worse places, lived on the streets of New York for a bit before Xavier's picked him up but after his parents tossed him out, it would be nice to sleep in a bed.

Come and talk to him, if you like. The food's good, so he's not moving.

bloodyrockgod

Charlie. Guitar. Bare feet.

( But not exactly a love song. )

He's been thinking a lot lately. And not finding any answers.

angela-edmunds.livejournal.com

True to her word, her mother has not left Angela's side since she got back. Niether of them slept at all well the night before, and of the two of them, Angela got the most sleep.

In fact, Kim watched Angela all night long, watching for signs of nightmares or...anything else.

Angela is glad that her mother is back, but she's so very ashamed of herself and still very depressed and frightened--though for different reasons this time.

Kim is also very afraid, and she can barely take her eyes off of Angela. She isn't talking very much.

The two of them are very quiet, niether of them wanting to hurt the other more than they already have.

Kim reaches over to touch Angela's hand every so often, and Angela turns her hand up to squeeze hers briefly before letting go.

[OOC: tag one or both of them. They're both sort of quiet, but the muns would love company!]

god-among-bugs.livejournal.com

Pyro is sitting at a booth in the Bar. It has a good view of the window showing the End of the Universe, and that might be why he hasn't moved from that spot for about a week. He's been focused mainly on the goings-on in the window, so don't be surprised that his personal hygeine is a little lacking. Sometimes, he wishes he had his old lighter, since the reassuring weight and swish-click might be reassuring in what he still considers a very strange situation... and for a mutant, that's saying something.

Come talk to him, if you'd like.

human-magnet.livejournal.com

Magneto strides through the door. This time, his abrupt millilocation earns only a slight raise of one eyebrow and a muttered, "Some day I'll figure out why it picks these times to pull me away." Then he continues into the bar itself.

He orders a pot of Adams Family Farm Afternoon Tea and some cucumber sandwiches, before retiring to the couch before the fire.

childofourtimes.livejournal.com

Pre-Milliways

The door flies open and anyone in the vicinity will probably notice that things have suddenly got very loud. Some kind of dance beat fills the air and there's a rolling wave of heat, created by a club full of people dancing in close proximity.

A young man enters backwards, still jumping up and down with his hands reaching high, still looking up at the stage where the DJ is doing her thing. And then he swirls suddenly and..

...his eyes are unnaturally bright, the smile a bit too wide. It doesn't disappear when the door closes behind him, cutting off all sound. He doesn't seem to notice. He just stares around him, still grinning, sweat glistening on his skin.

And he laughs.

'If they've let me into the VIP room, I hope to fuck I can smoke in here.'

god-among-bugs.livejournal.com

[[Pre-Milliways: A young man runs into the bar, and slams the door shut behind him. He turns around, and stands amazed.]]

He turns back to the door.

It isn't glass, as he thought it was when he ran through, but opaque and solid... something.

Pyro is very confused, but the dog and its stupid officer are out there and not in here, so for the time being, this particular mutant is going to catch his breath.

A bar of whatever sort is much nicer than a library, anyway.

[[OOC: The time is now 7:26 Eastern. Pyro's mun is somewhere else. Will be back later.]]

snapcrackleburn.livejournal.com

One booth (out of the way).

One Major General (of the Roy Mustang variety, bored).

One stack of paperwork (finished for once).

One scotch on the rocks (double).

Go on, poke him. He's not wearing his gloves, so he won't flame you for surprising him.