milliways_bar | Entries tagged with legolas

Here's the thing:

Chirrut Imwe has never learned to swim.

He's never needed to, not really. The only body of water big enough to properly swim in close to NiJedha was in the kyber caves, and it was cold enough to freeze a man solid within minutes.

So he never learned. It never became an issue.

Except now he lives (non!lives? after-lives? The terminology is difficult) in a place that has an abundance of water. Logic says that the blind man should just avoid the lake, or the pools, or the spa, because there's this saying about old dogs and new tricks. Chirrut may be called a mad dog sometimes, but he's also getting to be that proverbial old dog.

Chirrut never liked sayings like that anyway.

So this morning he laid out his plan to Baze with tactical precision, - finding a place that was a more controlled environment, tempting Baze with warmth, and then off-handedly noting that if Baze was too busy, he could go himself, it would be fine.

This would be why there are two Jedhan men, dressed in swim trunks, at the edge of one of the spa's heated pools. They are both battered and bruised - Chirrut's ribs are mottled to every color of the rainbow, Baze's face is sporting a heavy bruise and his hands are wrapped securely against further damage.

One of them is sure it can't be as hard as everyone is making it out to be. The other one is not so sure. They might not know they need help, but it would be advisable. Or at least, watching them flounder should be entertaining.

(tiny tags: Baze Malbus, Chirrut Imwe, Dodger, Mark)

ibiza

When Margo steps inside she looks out of place in her sleeveless gown with the crown on top of her head. She doesn't seem to feel as out of place as she looks, though. In spite of sticking out like a sore thumb, Margo acts naturally as can be and steps up to the bar like any other patron. She should be in Castle Whitespire, ruling a kingdom, but as long as she's hopping between worlds she might as well have a drink.

She has a seat on a stool and leans over to a person nearby, not smiling but not looking particularly unpleasant, either.

"I don't suppose this place fixes a decent bellini." It's her go to 'comfort' drink. There's something soothing about the taste of peaches.

livinginmyglass

Viola is surprised, but not at all dismayed when the door to the Duke's house opens instead into Milliway's. She could use more time, she thinks, to gather her thoughts. She is holding a ring in her hand.

But as with so many happy hour shifts, this one is fated to begin with an argument:

"I have paid my way each time I have come! I have begged no credit, the tab cannot be mine-- I doubt not you have heard such excuses before, but in this instance, it is true! ...I have not the means to pay a debt that is not mine. How shall it be paid?"

Bar, helpfully, explains. Viola sighs, agrees, and (less helpfully) fills out the specials board.

Specials
Whatever it please you tell me how to make

She takes up her place behind the bar, still looking faintly irritated by this entire series of events. Lacking anything else to do with the ring, she puts it on.

[ooc: open 'til whenever, really!]

freedom_is_grey

It's a cool and chilly day, but Ysalwen has a cloak so she doesn't care about that. She also has some judicious physical shielding that will protect her and her books from any raindrops that happen to fall on them. Sitting under a tree would definitely be tempting fate, otherwise.

Liranan scoffs at this delicacy and flops comfortably outside of her protective overhang.

She rubs his stomach with her booted foot anyway, attention fixed on the spellbook and physics treatises in front of her.

She is trying to connect some dots.

livinginmyglass

He comes into the bar backwards, nudging the door open with his shoulder and foot, his whole attention taken up by a piece of paper. He's young, pretty in a girlish way, dressed like a pageboy from some kind of old painting.

He mouths the words as he reads the paper through, then reads it through again-- he seems to be trying to memorize its contents. So complete is his distraction that he wanders a good way into the bar before he bumps into a table, looks up, and realizes that this is not the room he thought it was.

"...my lord?" he calls faintly, not really expecting a reply.

(Either this room wasn't here before, Viola thinks (she instinctively runs a hand down the front of her doublet, to be sure that the disguise has not somehow fallen out of place), or Illyria is much, much stranger than she realized.)

[ooc: I was going to leave this 'til after the fair, but... then I remembered that I have no patience at all. So slowtimes a-ok.]

is_the_motion

Outside in the garden, there are banners and stalls, bunting and balloons. There's even a bouncy castle, sitting somewhere between the stalls and the collection of classical cars.

As you come out of the bar, you can see a big sign hung from two poles:

Milliways 1st County Fair

Fancy entering a competition? Winning cool prizes?
Want to run a stall or take a look around?
Want to run a game or try your luck?

Come and join the fun of the fair!

[ooc: Everyone welcome! ~~If you are entering competitions please have your entries in by Wednesday 9pm GMT/3pm EST. Please see OOC POST for questions or ping me.~~

ENTRIES FOR THE SHOW NOW CLOSED. Judging is in progress and prizes will be announced as they come in in the next 24h as possible. Thank you to everyone who has entered.]

morecurious

Sooooooo yeah. Skye's life is pretty weird right now, not gonna lie on that one. She's (infiltrated) joined SHIELD as a consultant, for a start. And there was an honest-to-god superhero (supervillain? Superhuman) and a whole bunch of new people with varying sizes of sticks up their ass. You know, SHIELD Agents.

It's not that Skye has a very firm standard of what's expected and what's not expected right now.

What she was not expecting?

A bar to suddenly appear on the Bus.

You've got a twenty-something young woman standing at the door, giving you all the full-on new patron doubletake.

"You have got to be kidding me."

And then she does what any young person of her time and place would do when faced with this.

She whips out her smartphone and switches on the camera function.

[OOC: back room post

I love you aaaaaaall. Quick TV break back soon!]

hecu_marine

Ysalwen was doing all kinds of elemental practice yesterday out near the target range. Most of that didn't leave much of a mark, so the range is still good, but it did remind Shephard he was running low on hunting supplies. Now, bullets are a thing he's got a fair number of at home; people there need them, and make them, and do a pretty good job of it. Arrows, well... they're a little less common, for various reasons, and the ones that are being made don't live up to Shephard's standards, because he's a fussy bastard in some regards.

Which is why there's a man in winter-bulk Marine Corps fatigues first outside, roaming the areas where gulls and waterbirds nest near the Caribbean inlet, and then inside, very, very carefully cutting and trimming good-sized feathers into smaller, more uniform shapes. He'll be happy enough to explain what he's doing to anybody interested, or pass on some of the larger feathers if needed, for that matter.

findsthesun

Legolas backs into this bar from another, two tankards in his hands. All around him pipe- and fire-smoke has settled.

After a brief moment of surprise (and delighted laughter), he puts the two tankard onto the Bar, gets a bowl of Dorwinion, and kicks out a stool sit on (his feet still touch the ground).

This is much more pleasant.

He's peering at the room, as he sips his wine, bowl held in both hands. He very well may be peering at you.

[ooc: ~~to cheer myself up from a day of sickpain; probably not going to be too communicative ooc, but I'll try to be consistently around-ish :)~~ ~~on pause~~ Thank you for all the threads <3. Closed to new ones for now, and I'll be slow but try to keep up with those I currently have :)]

river_meimei

River's totally been around the bar now and then, though your character may or may not have crossed paths with her. Totally! Any impression that her mun has barely played for ages is both irrelevant and probably all in your mind.

Glad we've got that established.

She's sitting barefoot and crosslegged on one of the couches. In front of her on the coffee table is a small and delicately painted (but structurally sturdy) teapot and one handle-less cup. The teapot is filled with steaming lavender tea. She's got a plate of small savory biscuits to accompany it.

New Year's* is for being fancy! If you feel like it. Even if it's technically a few days past.

River looks pretty content with herself.

*In River's world, Christmas, the old calendar New Year, and the Chinese lunar New Year have mostly been conflated into a secular and merchandizing-heavy holiday of present-giving on January 1st. So if you got a present from her -- and if you think you should, you probably did! -- it came on the 1st.

mjolnir_retriever

The door still isn't there for Thor. Not long ago, he would have raged and blustered and done something decisive and dramatic and stupid -- but no. Not now.

To be honest, he finds it hard to really care.

The rooms here are comfortable, and no stranger than Jane Foster's trailer or roof; the furniture is close to Asgardian, in fact, if simpler and not quite right. And Thor's people live for thousands of years -- he doesn't have a lot of patience, but he isn't human, and he doesn't get bored like a human.

But when he approaches Bar tonight, he's presented with a napkin full of orange writing.

...Well. Thor had heard of this. "I will gladly do my duty as host, Miss Bar," he says, a little dubiously, "but I know little of an innkeeper's customs."

More napkins.

With a lot of writing. It seems explanations are in order.

"Very well," Thor agrees, and vaults lightly over the bar.

A short time later, in large (but tidy) angular handwriting, the specials board reads:

Specials

Mead

Boilermaker

Coffee

Half price on these specials and on any drink unknown to me.

Every patron Thor's met has been either from Midgard or from a realm unknown to him. This seems a suitable selection.

He settles back, broad hands resting on the bartop.

[OOC: Closed to new threads with Thor, sorry! But please feel totally free to threadhop all you like with each other.]

findsthesun

There is an Elf (all long limbs and dressed in brown and green) at a table, nimbly unpeeling an orange in a long strip, the dust-like particles from the peel hanging fragrantly in the air (many have settled on him). From the scraps in the bowl next to him, this orange appears to be his third or fourth.

New food is fun!

[OOC: May be slow (hooray, school!), but open until it scrolls! <3]

whoiwasmeant2be

A boy stands awkwardly at the top of the stairs. His breathing comes a bit too fast, and his eyes are a bit too wide to convince anyone that he’s perfectly calm, or that he’s looking forward to what he’s about to do.

Still, he takes a deep breath. Then another. And another. This actually goes on for a while until he finally admits to himself that he’s just stalling, at which point he allows himself one more breath before trudging purposefully down the stairs.

Then he just has to make it through the crowds between the foot of the stairs and the bar, during which his breathing speeds up again and his eyes start darting around nervously. He makes it before he can really panic, and settles onto a barstool as far away from everyone as he can get. Considering that this is Milliways, and that he’s at the bar, that’s not really very far, but he tries anyway. He takes a couple of seconds to calm down, and to look down and make sure that he’s sitting properly. It’s actually kind of a relief, when using a stool, it’s actually kind of appropriate to perch, so it’s not as uncomfortable as it could be.

Leaning forward slightly, the boy speaks softly, the cadence of his words a bit odd, as if he hasn’t used his voice in a while. “Could I have a calendar?” He pauses, then remembers. “Please?” And something else... Oh! “And... a sandwich?”

The calendar appears alone, causing the boy to frown slightly. But then he remembers. “Oh. Um... peanut butter and jelly?” He has fond memories of that one. He thinks.

[If you can see this note, the post is still open!]

street_sparrow

Sometime after Tom put the painting back up, it swings open and a teenage boy clambers through, takes a look at the room and beams.

"Good to be back."

electro_kinetic

There isn't a whole lot on the other side of the door that interests Noriko in the concept of going back to her own world, aside from the box of origami paper and folded cranes that comes in with her when she steps back through; the downside is that to accommodate a thousand cranes (ideally, anyway) the box is pretty big, and blocks her line of sight. We apologize if she runs into you with it by accident, as likely so will Noriko.

Failing that, you can find her at a table, where with her gauntlets still on but covered with bright blue-and-black striped long fingerless gloves she's proceeding to fold more birds out of a rainbow of colorful papers. Feel welcome to ask what she's doing or why, or even offer to help; she's got a whole bunch of paper to share.

demisemidemon

Clare walks through the door.

And blinks. The door was a surprise; she thought she was walking through the gates of a town. And she's only come twice, with days in between.

But besides that, the last time was very crowded and full of monsters. She's surprised to see the place this tidy.

Oh well. Clearly it is.

She might as well get out of the way of the door, anyhow.

river_meimei

River has been coming in pretty frequently, in the days since her return after the allpocalypse. Not every day, and not staying overnight, but -- often enough.

~~If you haven't seen her, that's definitely you being unobservant, and not the mun having failed to actually play her. Glad that's been established!~~

Milliways isn't the only place that's River's, but it's one of them. It matters. Somewhere in her heart she sees it as hers to guard -- not hers alone, but hers all the same.

And it was broken and besieged and destroyed. The fact that it was healed afterward doesn't totally change that.

She's been helping with the clean-up, when and where she can, but right now she's curled up in a chair by the fire, watching the room. Sometimes, you just have to sit and people-watch. (Or possibly hallucination-watch, if you're River.)

She's wearing her long biking shorts without a skirt over them, for a change. The reason for that is probably the gunbelts that are (uncharacteristically) strapped low on her hips, with a six-shooter resting comfortably in each holster. Another difference from usual: there's a bandage on her left calf. (There's another on the back of her left shoulder, but it's better hidden by her shirt and lacy over-sweater. The injuries are days old and healing well, and were never terribly serious, but River hasn't run across a magical healer yet, and she missed the miraculous healing paradigm shift.)

authorsbypass

The door opens, untouched, and through it runs...

well, she's a toddler of some sort, though whether she's human isn't quite so clear. It's not just the green hair; it's the general way she looks as if she's made of painted wood, for all that she's running like any other child.

"Look-look-zura!"

WOW, says her wide-eyed face, as she stops abruptly to stare around the room.

"Another room-zura!"

The teenage boy who follows after her is certainly human. "Hold on, Uzura," says Fakir, "and wait for me."

[OOC: Two muns, two pups!]

sunbaked_baker

It doesn't matter that the pseudo-Scottish winter dawn is obscured by thick layers of cloud; Rae can still feel the moment the sun breaks the horizon. Sunshine's daily run around the lake at dawn won't be deterred by mere weather. However, after her run, she will head back to the kitchens to start the day's baking - it looks like it might snow later, and she doesn't want to be out in it when it does.

The ovens keep the kitchen nice and warm, and as the day progresses, the rich smells of baking bread and spices fill the air.

(ooc: Post is open forever. Feel free to catch her either outside or once she's back indoors.)

Current Mood: calm

river_meimei

When River comes in, she's wearing a yellow sundress and pink lacy sweater, and her black stompy boots. She's grinning down at the floor, as if still amused by something someone said just before she opened the door.

Two steps in, and the clothing changes: her sundress lengthens into something warmer and more homespun that wouldn't be out of place in some of the Rim's more isolated settlements (or the 1800s), and acquires a ruffled apron over top of it. The lacy sweater transmutes into a warm wool cloak, its deep folds nearly reaching the ground -- all in crimson, with a hood spread across her shoulders. The stompy boots, however, stay the same.

River's about equally distracted by the cloak's weight, and the basket that just appeared over one arm. From the smell rising through the checked cloth, it contains fresh steamed dumplings.

[OOC: She'll venture outside eventually, because why not, when you've just acquired a really warm cloak? You can catch her either indoors or out by the lake, as your character likes.]

electro_kinetic

The ingredients list for interesting happenings--at least to Noriko--in Milliways is surprisingly short tonight. It consists of:

One mutant girl with the ability to absorb and rechannel electric energies. (Check.)

One pair rubber-soled tennis shoes.(Check; she has a beat-up pair of Converses. These are important.)

One unoccupied table with a good wide berth of space between her and other people, preferably in darkened area. (Check. Possibly more important than the last requirement.)

These things hence taken care of, Nori is settled into a chair with her feet firmly planted on the floor, watching herself produce a steady stream of blueish-white light, floating between her fingertips before she lets it dissipate, recharging for only a second before doing it again. You could say she's meditating; you wouldn't be entirely wrong.

forgottenmotley

The Fool has found Shakespeare. More specifically, he's found King Lear.

Sitting by the fireplace, his hat perched on the arm of a chair, he's flipping the pages, occasionally reading out passages in a sing song voice. Oddly he never seems to bother with the Fool in the play's passages. He seems to like King Lear's the most.

"You see me here, you gods, a poor old man,
As full of grief as age; wretched in both!
If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts
Against their father, fool me not so much
To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger,
And let not women's weapons, water-drops,
Stain my man's cheeks!"

He's actually not that bad with it. And at least he's not reading any of Shakespeare's naughty bits?

student_of_impossibility

It's been a long, long time since Tavi was in the Bar. As it is, his armor's covered in dust as he walks in, fully expecting his command building--and looks around with some surprise.

A slow smile spreads over his face, and then he all but bounds upstairs to go change, because crows he could do with a bath, meal, and an hour of not working on logistical issues, checking on drills, making sure the new tactics he's been trying out are okay, resolving any issues springing up from the alae of Marat with the Aleran foot soldiers (almost nonexistant now, after time and all the work he and Kitai put in), another skirmish with the Canim, or working on his inconsisten and weak furycrafting.

...Listed like that, it suddenly feels like far more than it does when he's doing all the over-working.

After a while, there's a freshly-bathed Tavi in uniform-sans-armor, feet up on a table as he tilts his chair back. A plate of steaming hot steak and veggies and a flagon of ale are beside him and--most shockingly--an actual regular book from Alera.

(Actually, it's a compilation of folk stories, so this might be research of some kind.)

He hasn't been here in so long, maybe someone wants to bother him?

gondolin-noble.livejournal.com

There's an elf in the bar - a very well-armed elf, with a war bow that has seen witch-kings and orc armies alike. But he was heading to the archery ranges before finding himself in a bar, and doesn't see any reason why this plan should change. There's a range here, after all.

So that'd be why the archery ranges are now featuring an elf with a heavy bow, who is currently decorating the center ring of his chosen target with thick-shafted arrows.

likesthecoat

Hey hey hey it's just an ordinary day...

Ianto is humming as he prepares the coffee pots and arranges the cocktails shakers. His sense of impending doom isn't tingling, for once. (He doesn't trust it at all.)

TODAY'S SPECIALS
BLACK VELVET
JACK ROSE
SOUL KISS
COFFEE
ANY WAY YOU LIKE IT