[identity profile] precocioustilda.livejournal.com
Matilda has an armchair by the fire, a mug of hot chocolate, and a copy of Beowulf in the original Anglo-Saxon. By her standards this counts as non-academic relaxation. Do say hello.

Jhalak is hanging from the rafters by one arm, surveying the bar with two eyes, the remaining two arms tucked close to its body. It's not sure it likes being away from Ray for this long, but it would be delighted to make your acquaintance nonetheless.

Logan is parked at a table with a coffee, lost in thought. Come distract him from his unpleasant daydreams.

Aaron found himself a booth with a good view of the bar at large and is sitting with the back of said booth between himself and the Window, watching all the people. He'd sure love some company.

Raz has discovered an unforeseen fondness for cream soda. Catch her sitting on (not at) a table by the door, blowing fizzy pink bubbles and giggling to herself.


[tiny tags: Jhalak, Aaron Stampler]
[identity profile] alorn-bear.livejournal.com
Belar gets a hell of a charge out of manipulating the Mongolian weather in such a way that it does his people the most good without screwing up the weather patterns for the rest of the planet. It's why he's in such a good mood as he trundles through the front door on all fours.

Yeah, he forgot to change out of bear shape this time. Or maybe he just didn't care, given that the sign he puts up says:

SECURITY MEMBER ON DUTY
YES, IT'S THE BEAR


... so, um, yeah.


[tinytag: Leto]
[identity profile] screwdriver-pls.livejournal.com
A man in a wheelchair rolls into a bar.



No, there is no punchline involved.

Just a hell of a lot of staring, and Logan reaching back to catch the door before it can close behind him.

He doesn't plan on moving forward or back until he's figured out what on Earth just happened.

Somebody want to give him the welcome speech so he'll stop blocking traffic?
[identity profile] transgenic-max.livejournal.com
"...cloud your judgement!" The blond man's voice is raised just enough that the tail end of the sentence preceeds him through the door leading in from the lake.

The woman looks away, dark hair falling to obscure her expression, her voice pitched low enough that it doesn't carry, though it was likely an argument, judging from the sudden tightening in the man's jaw, the belligerent expression.

"You can't stay here forever."

She looks up sharply, eyes narrowing. "You really think I don't get that? This is only, what, the third time we've had this discussion? The fourth?"

He turns his back at that, and stalks off towards the door.

Max sighs, glancing around for an empty table. She finds one, and sinks into a seat, resting her chin in the palm of one hand, weary. After a moment, she glances up, scanning the room for familiar faces.

(OOC: Max is very much available for tagging. The mun will be very fond of you if you tag, in fact, as she is trying to distract herself from stressing over her midterm tomorrow.)
[identity profile] transgenic-max.livejournal.com
There is a a structure of some sort made out of toothpicks, half finished. It's rather odd looking, and should probably topple over. There is also an X5, adding more toothpicks to said structure.

She seems a little on edge, the toothpick building having the air of something being used as a distraction.

Perhaps company would serve just as well.
[identity profile] transgenic-max.livejournal.com
Max is once again fiddling with little electronic bits. Tonight it's clear that she actually is making something, rather than deconstructing. What that something is, however, isn't entirely clear. It looks shiny, at least.

Feel free to bother the X5, she looks frustrated enough that she might need a break.
[identity profile] transgenic-max.livejournal.com
Max is curled up in a booth, sipping coffee and flipping idly through a book. This is not unusual. The skirt and sweater she is wearing are. Everyone needs a bit of a change sometimes.

Come bother the X5. She won't bite.
[identity profile] transgenic-max.livejournal.com
(OOM: After once again leaving Silent Milliways)

Again, Max starts upright as though just waking from a nightmare, looking about warily. After a moment, she seems to recognise her surroundings, and sinks back into the booth, turning her attention to the papers scattered in front of her.

Feel free to bother the X5. She could use the distraction.
[identity profile] eyesxonly.livejournal.com
Logan's been in his world for the last few days, but now he's back in the bar. There's a laptop in front of him, and he seems to be concentrating on what's on the screen, as well, he's also got a cup of coffee sitting next to him. If anyone actually looks at him, he's a little pale, but other than that looks pretty well.

Come bother the reporter.
[identity profile] transgenic-max.livejournal.com
Max is curled up in a booth, facing the bar. She's paler than usual, face covered with a thin sheen of sweat, and trembling slightly. It is rather likely that she's not well.