milliways_bar | Entries tagged with john dillinger

The quiet of the area behind Milliways is broken by the sound of a chopper. Trudy's chopper, to be precise, which sounds not unlike a Blackhawk from the twentieth century.

If, you know, Blackhawks had two pairs of four blades, instead of just on set of four.

Trudy, mostly managing not to swear this time, lands on the grass, turns the engine of, and sits in the cabin facepalming until the blades stop moving.

Great. Stuck here until night again.

Well, at least she brought along her sketchpad.

[ooc: mun may need to call slowtime at various points, but open until stated otherwise.]

the_gene_genie

When Gene enters the bar, it's only been a few hours out in his world since he was last here. He's confused but not complaining, he was on his way to the pub anyway. It's only when he sits down at the bar and then glances up at the wall does he realise that there's no longer a way out.

'Oh, you are joking me!'

He goes to examine it (and by examine, we mostly mean 'hit') but nope, no sign of any way out by this route.

'Bloody hell.'

[Angry!tag: Gene Hunt

Moist von Lipwig]

[OOC: calling slow for the night everyone, thanks for tagging! My brain does not want to cooperate anymore tonight I'm afraid.]

rogue-wraith.livejournal.com

The door opens to organized chaos on the other side - shouts, mechanical clanks and whirrs, the sounds of engines revving, the chatter of multiple voices in multiple languages.

And one slightly accented voice calls out louder than them all, being closer to the door.

"... And make sure you check my aft stabilizer, it went a bit wonky on that last run."

And then Wedge ducks into the bar, in the bright orange flightsuit of an Alliance pilot, various battletags decorating the sleeves, and he smiles.

A good glass of whiskey is just the way to end the day.

the_strong_one

[OOM: A Race Through Dark Places ]

Ivanova is having a... day. Yes, a day. That's how she's going to describe it to herself.

"I need a drink," she declares. Then narrows her eyes. "This place again."

She doesn't trust you, Milliways. You appear when she least expects it and needs a drink. Still, she undoes the first two buttons of her uniform collar and ambles toward the bar.

hopefulpoet.livejournal.com

Christian has composed a note, which he posts on the board in the bar. He hopes Nick will find this satisfactory.

It reads as follows:

To Anyone Interested in Writing ~

There are two writers here who would like to meet with other creative people to discuss writing and probably all manner of other things.

Are there any writers - or people who are interested in writing - who would like to join us?

Please leave a note here or you can reach Christian in Room # 123 or just stop me if you see me around.

Thank you.

~ C

P.S. Since most don't know who I am: I am of average height and build, I would say, with dark hair and blue eyes. I am usually wearing shirt, trousers and suspenders. I am frequently writing in a notebook or at my typewriter. I'm also likely to have a drink beside me. Thank you.

He sighs and decides to acquire a Scotch before he leaves the bar.

Current Location: The Bar

bitunlikely.livejournal.com

In an attempt to better understand one Bart Allen and his concept of "human relationships," Jenny has asked for a book from Bar.

Dating for Dummies appears seconds later along with a note and another book. Bartending? She stares at for seconds, not noticing the red and yellow blur that's run up to the bar beside her until it speaks.

"Hey, Gorgeous, what's up?"

The dating guide gets knocked to the other side of the bar as she tries to hide it from Bart's curious eyes. Instead, she holds up the note. "Bartending. Ever try it?"

"No," he answers. Next thing Jenny notices, he's behind the bar. "But there's a first time for everything."

She follows Bart behind the bar quickly, if just to hide the dating book again. Thankfully, Bar is on her side and new napkins appear with instructions to Bart as what to do. Soon enough, everything is set up for Happy Hour:

Specials:
Yellow Bird
Red Alert
Yellow Strawberry
Red Cloud

Theme? What theme?

Have at!

[ooc: two pups, two muns. open till about 10:30 pm est, then slowtime plz!]

[tiny tag: jenny (doctor's daughter), the question, the russian astronaut, arthur curry]

notjustnarrator.livejournal.com

[oom: Up in room 123, Nick and Christian share some ideas and hatch a plan.]

ostro_goth

This time, when the bar serves Teja a napkin with his afternoon tea, he doesn't even try to protest. Some men, the bar will pick to serve in this place, from time to time, so they will repay the favours granted to them, and speak kindly to their fellow men. This is the third -- or is it even the fourth? -- time Teja has been asked to do this, so he simply walks around the bar and writes a few eclectic suggestions on the specials board:

SPECIALS
Atlantean
Macallan Single Malt Scotch
Falernian wine
Lime beer
Young cider

Any who manage to drink a bowl of Hunnish koumiss will get the next drink free!

That last, he adds because a bartender apparently may do such a thing -- and rather than daring people to remove articles of clothings, sing, or otherwise damage their dignity, he challenges them to a cultural dare he himself has already undertaken.

So, now he waits for whoever will come up and order drinks from a dead Goth.-

[[OOC: Open for new tags until midnight GMT! Come in, have fun, threadhop often!]]

[[tinytags: attila the hun, demeter]]

snugglesoft

Snuggle is in the bar this evening, sitting atop a large laundry basket full of freshly washed, neatly folded towels.

There's an slightly overwhelming smell of Springtime. Or upliftment. Or something.

Anyone need a towel? You could always try putting it over your head and hoping that if you can't see Snuggle, Snuggle can't see you.

(He knows that trick, though.)

[tiny tags: snuggle bear, snuggle plot]

perfectblue.livejournal.com

Here's a face that hasn't been around the Bar in a while.

Illyria's absence had, at first, been unplanned and outside her control, though recently she's just been flat-out avoiding it. She would still be doing so, in fact, except that her other primary option is a rather unpleasant version of Los Angeles. Apparently hell even gets tiresome to former demon goddesses. Who knew?

In any case, Illyria is back in Bar, for the moment, at least. One wouldn't ever make the mistake of calling her approachable, but she doesn't look as though she's likely to tear the head off anyone who comes near her, either. This may be an improvement upon the norm where she is concerned.

ladye_bright

[OOC: Millitimed to late evening. Pertinent information.

ETA: Stepping out. Slowtimes welcome!]

Tonight is Midsummer Night, the shortest night of the year. Tonight is a night for dancing and music in the late sun and the lightened night. It is a night for woods.

The shadows grow long and the shade of the forest grows deeper as the sun sets, slowly. No roses grow here at the edge of the trees (but further in, among the groves so green, who can say? Only those who are brave enough to wander so far).
I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful—a faery’s child,
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.
From the shadows under the trees steps a woman. She is tall, slender, and oh, very beautiful is she, dressed all in green with her long, long black hair loose down her back. She examines her surroundings, sedate, serene. This place -- this lake by the woods, all backed by mountains -- this is new.

It is Midsummer Night here.

The Queen is . . . intrigued.

hopefulpoet.livejournal.com

Christian stands at the Bar - it is sentient, he's been told, but he's not sure how to address it - pulls the pencil from behind his ear and looks down at the blank piece of paper in his hand. Finally, he rests it atop the bar and writes in a neat, cursive script:

To Whoever May Be Hiring ~

I am fairly new to this place and cannot seem to return from whence I came. I've been told this means I am Bound. I am acquiring quite the tab at the Bar for food and drink and wish to rectify the matter, as I find it troublesome to have such a debt.

I gather from other visitors to Milliway's that employment may be possible. I would like to discuss the possibilities with whoever might be seeking assistance.

Thank you for your time.

~ Christian (Room No. 123)

P.S. The name 'Doc' has been mentioned as one potential employer, and something about kitchen staff or gardening.

He re-reads the note, then folds it over neatly, three times, as if he were going to put it in an envelope. Then he leaves it with the Bar, orders a Scotch, and goes to a corner to write in his notebook.

Current Location: The Bar

firstcptjack.livejournal.com

Jack has a book with him in case it's slow (today it's Hero With a Thousand faces) and takes a moment to ponder the specials:

Today's Specials
Tequila Sunrise
Tequila Mockingbird
the Perfect Margerita

"Welcome to Happy Hour. What can I get you?"

[tiny tags: Maj. Evan Lorne]

mycursedface

[OoM: A dress makes no sense unless it inspires men to want to take it off you. -Françoise Sagan]

For the past two or so months, Medusa has been flitting about the bar dressed in bare feet, jeans, and either a sundress or an Indian-style backless blouse. The clothes suited her and looked perfectly nice (of course, Medusa is one of those hatable people who would look stunning should she be dressed in a burlap sack and dragged through a field of thorns).

Today is a little different.

When Medusa walks into the bar from upstairs, the first noticable difference is that her hair isn't it its normal mass of slender braids, but out in all its curly glory. The second difference is her clothes; a simple (but very pretty) little black dress and her red-and-black knee-high boots from Mardi Gras.

She'd promised Sam she'd wear them again, and it's only right to fulfill one's promises, yes?

[ooc: this post is not plot-locked in the slightest, but the mun is studying so replies may be slow and/or there may be vanishing into slowtime. All tags will be picked up, though]

[tiny!tag: demeter]

Current Mood: mischievous

necessary_child

Bar was getting a little grumpy by the time Sam appeared for his dinner, so along with his sushi was a note. A very terse note. Sam reads it, raises his eyebrows, and then laughs.

"Okay, why not? Can I get a little help on the specials, though, please? I haven't got an assistant, this time."

The book appears, with another note saying "Bye!".

He leafs through it briefly before scribbling on the board.

Specials:

Devil's Advocate
Gates of Hell
Almost Heaven

Free drink if you can stop me being sick of being Bound.

Hey, nobody said Sam couldn't appreciate a little irony. And since he also appreciates a little sustenance, he's eating his dinner while he waits for customers.

paladinsuitsyou

It's too hot in D.C. to even think, let alone run out of doors, so Booth, dressed in running clothes, is relieved to find him in the Bar, a lovely climate-controlled environment with a cool, grey exterior.

Scotland is lovely this time of year, and it's a perfect day for a run.

He stops for a glass of smoothie, though, figuring he might want a chat before the exercise. He offended enough people with his lack of cleanliness the last time he was in. Best to keep it short.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

Specials.
Flaming Blow Job.
Flaming Blue.
Flaming Confederate.

Atton likes drinks that involve burning.

Anyway, he's behind the bar, cleaning glasses while he waits for potential customers. He has a little blowtorch all ready.

velocitygirl

In a booth in the corner, is Inyri Forge, with several datapads, two drained glasses of alcohol and a cigarette between her fingers.

(In reality, she's forgotten about the cigarette and it's just burning away...she'll realise that when she gets burned).

Very botherable.

azure-mercy.livejournal.com

With the House of Arch Academy students off for the summer, Zhaan has a lot of time on her hands. She's been working hard on her garden, collecting useful wild herbs in the woods, and doing some extra religious devotions - and, of course, spending time with Stark.

She's decided to sell some products from her garden again, now that time allows. Arranged on the table of her usual booth near the infirmary are jars, sachets and wrapped packages of various items - teas, incense, balms, perfumes, soaps and spices. While she doesn't have a sign up, the neat shop-window arrangement of her products makes it obvious that they are for sale.

realmrsreynolds

Events in Jefferson District have quieted some; Dorothy's even starting to be more willing to go about the business of running her home on her own.

Doesn't mean she's not still visiting her friend every day. Sometimes she even brings her fruit.

But Sallie can't ever say where she's getting real mangoes from.

morethanavoice.livejournal.com

Delysia is still very, very new to the concept of Milliways. Last time she arrived here (no matter how many nice people she met), she almost arrived in her dressing gown and oh, the scandal that might've been.

Would've been fun, maybe.

Now that she's back, it's slightly easier for Delysia - dressed in a powder-blue suit and her favorite hat - to maneuver the bar area. The pink...box, in the corner? Probably just draws her eye because of the sparkle to it.

Oh.

"A microphone? I've never seen one that small before..."

Picking up the microphone triggers the television screen beyond it, and the mike is forced upwards by Delysia's own hand, no matter how much the expression on her face demands that the microphone be dropped.

Where's a man to save her when she needs one?

( 'Give Him the Ooh-La-La', by Cole Porter. )

Even when she's only halfway through, she eases into it. Delysia is a lounge singer, after all.

She just hopes the machine will turn off, afterward.

[ooc: This serves as both an EP for Delysia if you would like to thread and an ABSOLUTELY OPEN POST FOR THE EVIL KARAOKE MACHINE. TAG. SING. INFLICT HARM.]

[tinytag: Delysia Lafosse]

shecalledmefred.livejournal.com

A new desk, a new chair, a new desk lamp, a new location -- and no inspiration. If I weren't so terrified of admitting I'm blocked I'd ask Ouranos why his great-granddaughters were slacking on the job. Instead, I am sprawled out on a couch by the fire, reading a book, hoping I can get a little inspiration through osmosis.

[ petit tag: paul varjak ]

stubborn-annie.livejournal.com

Annie's been much too busy these past few weeks to try anything new in her kitchens, but all that's past now. She's finally got time to breathe, sit back, yell at her workers, and tinker a bit. For Bar purposes that translates into a sizable container of extremely thin, crisp biscuits (the Americans would call them cookies), a sign indicating that they contain hazelnut flour, and a somewhat larger sign indicating that the biscuits are free but that anyone who tampers with them will be severely hurt.

That set up on her table, she settles back in her chair to relax at last.

hopefulpoet.livejournal.com

Christian has located a table in the corner of the bar, away from the disturbing view of the constant 'end of the world' scene. He's still trying to wrap his head around that part of Milliway's. It's almost more difficult to accept than the variety of people here.

His beloved Underwood typewriter sits before him, along with a pile of blank, white paper, and he waits for the Muse to strike. He's left is bowler hat and jacket in his room, so he sits in brown, wool trousers and a white shirt of rough cotton, both worn. His shoes have thin laces and his suspenders have seen better days. He doesn't really care what he looks like, though.

He just wants to write, and try to forget. Sipping something in a glass which he can't recall the name of, he sighs.

[[ OOC: My apologies if I stop tagging soon: I seem to be passing out. Will continue tomorrow, and I thank you for tagging. :) ]]

[[OOC: And it may well be slow-time, as I don't seem to be around when many others are, lol! I'm on EST and work during the day, with very limited access to the Internet. Just a heads-up.]]

Current Location: The Milliway's Bar
Current Music: The song in his head is 'Come What May'...

antishinra

Tifa likes to show up a little early on nights when she's tending, and until she's supposed to officially go on duty, she spends some time wiping down the bar, humming under her breath. She has a cup of berry tea for herself behind the bar, and once she's done, she stops to take a long sip of it.

She doesn't decorate the specials board with any drawings of her friends this time, but she does write up a notice that all beers are half off for tonight's Happy Hour. It's a decent excuse to familiarize herself with the bar's selection, and even though she's been happily surprised to spot a few names she knows, there's a lot more that she's never heard of before.

When she's ready, she pulls her hair back loosely and secures it with a band, then takes a central spot behind the bar to wait for orders.

[tiny tag: Lucrecia Crescent, Reno]

[OOC: You can probably expect another post or two from me tonight, but please consider these threads officially in the Land of Slow! ♥ Thanks for the tags!]