milliways_bar | Entries tagged with kyra

Out back, far enough away from the bar for safety and some level of discretion, there's a target range. (There are probably a couple, given Milliways patrons and Milliways geography. This is one without glassy-fused craters from Autobot cannons.)

Trowa's there, with his gun and a lot of increasingly dented cans.

It only makes sense to maintain a skill set, and this is something that's a lot harder to discreetly practice at the circus.

jacks-dead.livejournal.com

On a day like today, there's no point in staying inside. So Kyra had her lunch outdoors-- a cheeseburger, which was freaking delicious, and a bit of baklava because she got a taste for it in New Mecca and they have it here.

She briefly considered the beach, but is now at the outskirts of the forest climbing trees. And by 'climbing trees,' in the spirit of full disclosure we must confess we mean 'scaling trees at simian speed, then jumping from branch to branch and using the momentum to achieve impressive aerial gymnastics.'

She sort of misses the adrenaline that she got from doing this hundreds of feet above the floor, in the hole back on Crematoria. But every time she thinks about this, she remembers she can have steak here whenever she wants.

This afterlife rocks.

base-bastardy.livejournal.com

[oom: in which a character and an author have creative differences. Marlowe and Edmund are not, as they say, peas and carrots.]

Young, dead, bored almost-nobleman in the bar.

The problem with death is there's nothing to fight for.

awesome_lilly

Lilly's sitting at the bar, picking at some paradoxes and looking thoughtful.

Contrary to popular belief, this is not an omen of disaster.

killwhatyouhunt.livejournal.com

Riddick hasn't actually left the bar. Not to go back to his home world anyway. He could if he wanted to. But he knows what's on the other side of that door. Knows about the rebelling army that he'll have to kill. Wouldn't be the first time they've tried to go against their Lord Marshall. His mind, however, is on the one he lost. His Kyra. For now anyway.

He can be distracted. Whether that's a good idea to do to a man standing statue still, looking out the observation window, is a whole other story.

jacks-dead.livejournal.com

Kyra's been around. If you haven't seen her (and it's likely you haven't), that's probably just the way she likes it. Right now, she's sitting by the fire and eating an apple, which makes a very satisfying crunch.

She appears content, but it is probably best not to startle her. It's a bitch digging shivs out of people.

adamantiumloner

Logan comes up to the bar tonight, has a seat and addresses the counter. "Lemme have some a' that swill Reynolds drinks an a bottle of Jack." There's a pause and then bottles of both appear and a glass.

With a nod Logan cracks open each and starts to alternate shots between the two. Eventually he might think about getting something to eat as well.

river_meimei

River likes the rafters.

You get a good view, for one thing.

It's quiet, for another. As quiet as anything ever is, for River.

That's a nice thing sometimes.

She was out with Boukephalos earlier, and her hands and skirt still smell of horses and sweet hay, but right now she's crosslegged at the join of two beams, staring sometimes downward and sometimes out at nothing or up at the ceiling planks above her head.

jacks-dead.livejournal.com

So, get this: You really can climb up to the rafters.

Kyra knows because she's currently there, balanced easily on a beam, and is wandering around in search of ... oh, something interesting. So far it's mainly cobwebs.

All the same, you get a killer view of everybody down below. Bird's eye, you know?

It's pretty sweet.

hopeitsworthit

Dean's hands are a little greasy when he comes in today. Most of the rest of him was probably pretty bad off, too, judging by the filthy rag tucked into his back pocket.

Working on the Impala does that to a Winchester.

He looks pretty damn pleased with himself, though, which means things are going well.

The good beer's coming out tonight, hell yeah.

Bar pops up one that's even better than what he asked for, and since he has the money, he grins, pops the top off, and slides into a nearby booth.

Oh yeah. This is the life, baby.

Well, at least until the next supernatural freakshow pops up.

What can you do?

jacks-dead.livejournal.com

So Kyra's trying this whole being-in-the-bar-again thing. Thus far it's pretty good; she got some of those chocolate chip cookies with her stew, and she flopped down on a couch, and then she started thinking hey, that one over there looks kind of soft too ...

Two chairs and three couches later, she has settled for an overstuffed armchair, sitting sideways so her legs are hanging over one of the arms. She munches her cookies and people-watches, a bit wary but mainly curious and pleasantly bored.

Also she glances up to contemplate the rafters now and then. She's betting you could climb up there, if you wanted. Get a good view.

hopeitsworthit

Another day, another case--

Another motel room full of mopey Sam. At least that's the way it was shaping up, until Dean noticed the hot art chick eyeing his brother.

Hey, Dean's not the kind of guy that has to hog all the ladies. And Sam's a sucker for shit when the job's on the line.

Which explains why Sam's on a date with that Sarah chick, and Dean's got lots of free time to visit the bar at the end of the universe.

What Sammy doesn't know ain't gonna hurt anybody.

Which may be why Dean's got a couple shot glasses lined up in front of him, instead of the usual beer.

Some days a guy's gotta bust out of his routine, right?

jacks-dead.livejournal.com

[OOC: Kyra, as previously noted, is in the cells, and is taggable here should anyone care to drop by.]

mnt_donnie

[OOM: Last night, Donatello talked to Alanna about investigating Lilly's assailant. Tonight, he apprehended her with the cunning use of cocoa. No, seriously.]

killitwithfire

If one were to step out into the woods tonight, they might just smell the scent of charred demon bunny. They also might hear the occasional demon bunny scream.

It is, as some might say, something to do.

Later, one might see somewhat satisfied-looking Axel emerging from the woods, to start up a small fire by the lakeside, plunking himself down on the ground, and basking in the flame.

((ooc: Feel free to tag him in the woods, or by the fire.))

awesome_lilly

[OOM: Lilly was just going to have a somewhat mopey night, but unfortunately for her, Kyra was having a twitchy night.]

Staggering into the bar wearing Coyote's shirt would ordinarily be Lilly's idea of a good time, but given that the shirt in question has been torn into strips and tied around the deep stab wound in her left side... not so much this time. Coyote would seem to agree, given the uncomplimentary things she's muttering under her breath.

Lilly's leaning heavily on Coyote, her side burns with every breath she takes, and there's still a steady flow of blood soaking the homemade bandages.

This sucks.

[ooc, eta: Okay, this wasn't plot-locked and then I ran the hell out of time. But not acronyms. Top thread is plot-locked, feel free to leave reactions to it below!]

jacks-dead.livejournal.com

Where has Kyra been the past few days?

In her new room, is where.

Don't laugh-- have you seen these rooms? With big windows that look out back and real beds with real sheets and real mattresses-- Kyra could spend the next whole year just lying on that mattress. Not that she'd want to; she imagines after the first week she might start to get bored.

It was a little weird, she'll admit, finding out that Valerie was right, and they do have clothes in the rooms. Clothes that fit, even. But she's very grateful to be able to get out of the Necro crap, so now she's wearing something closer to what she used to wear in prison: long-sleeved gray shirt, khaki pants with pockets. Many, many places to hide a blade.

Currently Kyra is sprawled out on a couch, eating lamb stew with her fingers. A waitrat stops and watches her for a moment, as if it is considering approaching her with a utensil.

Kyra's eyebrows arch, slowly. "What are you lookin' at?"

The rat scurries away.

jacks-dead.livejournal.com

When Kyra got to Crematoria, the guys who locked her up did in fact tell her that she'd never see daylight again, which had obscurely pleased her. But the novelty wore off pretty quick: Dark's just dark, when you're in it. She got sick of not seeing the sun.

Therefore, she's outside by the lake. Not doing anything in particular-- not doing much of anything at all, in fact. Just sitting on the grass with her boots kicked off, breathing in the fresh air (or at least it feels fresh, how'd they get air like this in the middle of space?) and watching as the last of the sunlight fades.

It's nice out here.

... And besides, the Will kid said that outside was the best place to find a fight, if she wanted one.

evryinchbut1.livejournal.com

Your server is: Valerie

Waitress in the bar; feel free to flag her down.

[ooc: ~~Out on errands; back soon.~~ Back!]

jacks-dead.livejournal.com

[Pre-Milliways: A conversation, followed shortly by a death.]

I was always with you.

I was ...

You may not have noticed the arrival of the girl in black, which isn't surprising: She didn't either. Losing consciousness will do that to a person. But nevertheless, there she is, slowly waking up on the floor.

Muttered, fuzzy: "What the ..."

The first thing Kyra sees is ceiling, low, wooden ceiling that looks nothing like the great hall she's left-- left? That doesn't make sense.

Not to mention she doesn't hurt anymore.

Slowly, Kyra runs a hand up to her stomach, which she can do and shouldn't be able to. Feels for anything in pain, any internal ruptures-- she knows she got it right in the spinal cord, there should be something-- but there isn't. Slowly, she starts to roll over, and she can do that too. Feels carefully up and down her back.

Nothing.

Glancing around in confusion, sharp and wary:

"... Riddick?"

[OOC: Information about Kyra may be found here. She's coming fresh from canon, and so is recently deceased.]