(no subject)
May. 1st, 2011 09:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stilljustandrew(A few hours after this.)
The front door to Milliways opens on an early morning somewhere in the woods. Andrew Wells stumbles in, pale and shivering, a second jacket draped around his shoulders over the one he's already wearing; Sam Winchester is a few steps behind him, still outside. Andrew stops just inside the door to lean against the doorjamb, half-closing his eyes.
"Hey. Andrew."
It's quiet, but enough to get him to lift his head and look back over his shoulder. "Yeah?"
Sam's face is unreadable. "Thanks for trying. Tell Mac I said I'm sorry, and goodbye."
Andrew's eyes fly wide, and he turns -- but Sam's already swinging the door to, and it shuts in his face before he can reach to stop it.
"Sam!" He pounds a fist against the door, stupidly, uselessly, as though Sam could hear him from the other side -- "Sam!"
[OOC: Sam is not taggable in this thread, but Andrew is. *cheerful* He's also being pretty noisy, so feel free to notice.]
The front door to Milliways opens on an early morning somewhere in the woods. Andrew Wells stumbles in, pale and shivering, a second jacket draped around his shoulders over the one he's already wearing; Sam Winchester is a few steps behind him, still outside. Andrew stops just inside the door to lean against the doorjamb, half-closing his eyes.
"Hey. Andrew."
It's quiet, but enough to get him to lift his head and look back over his shoulder. "Yeah?"
Sam's face is unreadable. "Thanks for trying. Tell Mac I said I'm sorry, and goodbye."
Andrew's eyes fly wide, and he turns -- but Sam's already swinging the door to, and it shuts in his face before he can reach to stop it.
"Sam!" He pounds a fist against the door, stupidly, uselessly, as though Sam could hear him from the other side -- "Sam!"
[OOC: Sam is not taggable in this thread, but Andrew is. *cheerful* He's also being pretty noisy, so feel free to notice.]
(no subject)
May. 11th, 2010 10:28 pmmr_gaetaThe front door clanks open, sounding for an instant like it's much heavier (and much more metallic) than it appears. It's not very different from how it opened the last time Gaeta came to Milliways.
What is different, though: he's dressed in a full set of Fleet duty blues, lieutenant rank insignia pinned firmly to his collar and junior flight wings attached to his jacket.
(A second difference, if not as pointed a one: it was pretty rare he ever smiled like this while he was on New Caprica.)
Easing the door shut behind him, Gaeta glances around, lets out a long breath, and makes his way toward a free table.
[OOC: Mun is heading to bed, but this post is open until it scrolls!]
What is different, though: he's dressed in a full set of Fleet duty blues, lieutenant rank insignia pinned firmly to his collar and junior flight wings attached to his jacket.
(A second difference, if not as pointed a one: it was pretty rare he ever smiled like this while he was on New Caprica.)
Easing the door shut behind him, Gaeta glances around, lets out a long breath, and makes his way toward a free table.
[OOC: Mun is heading to bed, but this post is open until it scrolls!]
(no subject)
Apr. 9th, 2010 09:14 amnomorekaraokeA demon walks into the bar (as the story goes), asks the Bar(tender) for a drink, and gets one to match his snazzy red and green fabulousness. This is a very good thing.
But what happens next?
((Edit: Sleepy mun means slowtimes apply. Feel free to tag in, just don't expect me to tag until tomorrow night (GMT+1).))
But what happens next?
((Edit: Sleepy mun means slowtimes apply. Feel free to tag in, just don't expect me to tag until tomorrow night (GMT+1).))
(no subject)
Nov. 22nd, 2009 11:31 pmstilljustandrewThe front door opens, and in steps Andrew Wells, hands in his pockets and shoulders slightly slumped.
He's got a note to leave -- but it turns out the intended recepient is already here.
After that conversation, Andrew finds himself in a somewhat better mood -- right up until he reads the note that's been left for him since he was last here.
He's sitting at the bar reading it. Feel free to interrupt him; it's not like the words have changed since the last three times he read it.
[ETA: Mun has gone to bed. Thread is open until it scrolls off the front page.]
He's got a note to leave -- but it turns out the intended recepient is already here.
After that conversation, Andrew finds himself in a somewhat better mood -- right up until he reads the note that's been left for him since he was last here.
He's sitting at the bar reading it. Feel free to interrupt him; it's not like the words have changed since the last three times he read it.
[ETA: Mun has gone to bed. Thread is open until it scrolls off the front page.]
(no subject)
Nov. 9th, 2009 11:55 pmstilljustandrewOut of Milliways:
of habitats: the barren land
of maps: the palm upon the hand
of fools: the sentimental man
of weaknesses: Achilles' heel
of habitats: the barren land
of maps: the palm upon the hand
of fools: the sentimental man
of weaknesses: Achilles' heel
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2009 01:10 pmnomorekaraokeTo be brief: there is a snoozing demon onna sofa. Bare feet and ankles sticking out from what appears to be silky jammies what have become bunched against the armrest, and a smoking frock robe. Asia seems to be a subtle theme. When you're hobbling, you have to take what you get, even if it's a loveseat, and you're six foot something. Not the best match, but it'll do. Besides, the fireplace is fabulous.
In actual brevity: snoozing demon onna sofa. Crutch onna floor, within easy reach and out of the way of waitrats and slightly bigger footsies.
In actual brevity: snoozing demon onna sofa. Crutch onna floor, within easy reach and out of the way of waitrats and slightly bigger footsies.
(no subject)
Sep. 9th, 2009 08:00 amnomorekaraokeSome times, when the door opens, it's with a bang or some other great commotion. Some times, voices drift across from the other side.
Neither is the case this particular time.
There's the thunk of something suspiciously wooden, and then another, dull thunk of a sound right before a literal drag of something across floorboards.
In walks Lorne, albeit for a value of walking. His left arm is in a sling, he's precariously held up by a crutch and his right leg, while his left just doesn't seem to want to cooperate. The journey across the bar to Bar herself takes a while, all focus poured into staying upright.
Don't slip. Don't fall on your ass. Steady on, My Left Foot. Crutch, step, drag. Crutch, step, draaaag, and so it goes on.
Reaching the counter is like a small blessing and an answered prayer and finding yourself smack dab in a candy store all wrapped up in one, big, bombastic birthday box, gift wrapped and all. He sags a teeny little tiny bit against it, hopelessly relieved that he made it.
"Bar? ...I need a room. Please."
And lo, a key materializes, alongside a pretty little cup of raspberry sorbet, as if it's plain to see he isn't going to make it upstairs without some added help.
He very carefully doesn't wibble when faced with the token of concern, even though he's feeling wobbly all over. "You know me too well, babycakes."
Neither is the case this particular time.
There's the thunk of something suspiciously wooden, and then another, dull thunk of a sound right before a literal drag of something across floorboards.
In walks Lorne, albeit for a value of walking. His left arm is in a sling, he's precariously held up by a crutch and his right leg, while his left just doesn't seem to want to cooperate. The journey across the bar to Bar herself takes a while, all focus poured into staying upright.
Don't slip. Don't fall on your ass. Steady on, My Left Foot. Crutch, step, drag. Crutch, step, draaaag, and so it goes on.
Reaching the counter is like a small blessing and an answered prayer and finding yourself smack dab in a candy store all wrapped up in one, big, bombastic birthday box, gift wrapped and all. He sags a teeny little tiny bit against it, hopelessly relieved that he made it.
"Bar? ...I need a room. Please."
And lo, a key materializes, alongside a pretty little cup of raspberry sorbet, as if it's plain to see he isn't going to make it upstairs without some added help.
He very carefully doesn't wibble when faced with the token of concern, even though he's feeling wobbly all over. "You know me too well, babycakes."
(no subject)
Sep. 3rd, 2009 11:31 pmstilljustandrewOut of Milliways:
of lights: a face of chalky white
of deaths: the fading of the light
of lies: we are alone tonight
the wolves are at our heels
of lights: a face of chalky white
of deaths: the fading of the light
of lies: we are alone tonight
the wolves are at our heels
(no subject)
Aug. 24th, 2009 01:24 pmnomorekaraokeThey say the most wonderful things in life happen by the simple virtue of a stroke of luck. Call it chance. Fate. A cheeky wink and a come hither wave of the hand from Lady Fortuna. Call it anything you want.
They also say that the most wonderful things happen right when you least expect it, right when you've stopped hoping for a change of pace or a lucky break.
They say the damnedest things.
Lorne is in the house, having a drink (with frills on!) and a game of Solitaire.
They also say that the most wonderful things happen right when you least expect it, right when you've stopped hoping for a change of pace or a lucky break.
They say the damnedest things.
Lorne is in the house, having a drink (with frills on!) and a game of Solitaire.
(no subject)
Aug. 21st, 2009 01:07 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
puckishly.livejournal.comAt around three o'clock in the morning, by magical Scotland-at-the-end-of-the-universe time, someone slips very quietly downstairs and into the main bar.
His hair is mussed, his expression sleepy (fairies do not usually sleep anywhere near as much as mortals do, but raising twin toddlers will take care of that one), and he desperately craves something with dairy in it.
After a moment's murmured conversation with the Bar, Puck takes a mug of cream and retires to a couch by the fire, where he yawns cheerfully and stretches out.
Midnight snackage FTW.
His hair is mussed, his expression sleepy (fairies do not usually sleep anywhere near as much as mortals do, but raising twin toddlers will take care of that one), and he desperately craves something with dairy in it.
After a moment's murmured conversation with the Bar, Puck takes a mug of cream and retires to a couch by the fire, where he yawns cheerfully and stretches out.
Midnight snackage FTW.
(no subject)
Aug. 16th, 2009 08:35 pmundignifiedWes briefly considers stepping up on a stool to jump over Bar, but decides there's a subtle yet important difference between looking stupid and breaking bones.
He siiighs and settles for the normal route.
SPECIALS
WHISKEY
It-- it's the only drink he remembers how to spell in English. What? It's got the letters of his name in it...? Wait:
VODKA
All right, he can still spell two. Fantastic.
[ ooc: HAPPY HOUR IS OPEN. feel free to threadhop~ ]
He siiighs and settles for the normal route.
WHISKEY
It-- it's the only drink he remembers how to spell in English. What? It's got the letters of his name in it...? Wait:
All right, he can still spell two. Fantastic.
[ ooc: HAPPY HOUR IS OPEN. feel free to threadhop~ ]
(no subject)
Jul. 26th, 2009 12:32 pmnomorekaraokeIf there's one thing to say about Milliways, one darling, lovely, spectacularly fabulous thing, it would be this: There are no No Smoking signs as far as the eye can see.
Furthermore, there's no place Lorne would rather be on a Sunday afternoon, having his breakfast (cuppa joe-with-added-sumthinsumthin). At the moment he's kicking back on the couch - that one, right there - taking up lots more space than is technically necessary. You see, this is one of those books that require active reading.
And by active, we mean sprawled all over and enjoying oneself immensely.
The book? Just a little something he found in the Library, handily translated and everything. If one were to look at the cover, it reads:
MARE KANDRE
BESTIARIUM
Judging by the slight frown of perplexity, it is quite the little piece of fictional literature.
For a given value of fictional, perhaps, this being Milliways...
((Edit of SlowTimes: Also known as aaaaaaargh I need sleep! This has been wonderful, lieblings, but the bed, it calls for me. I call slow-times, and wub you all!
Post is open until next EP. Which could mean weeks. I don't EP all that often, as you may have noticed.))
Furthermore, there's no place Lorne would rather be on a Sunday afternoon, having his breakfast (cuppa joe-with-added-sumthinsumthin). At the moment he's kicking back on the couch - that one, right there - taking up lots more space than is technically necessary. You see, this is one of those books that require active reading.
And by active, we mean sprawled all over and enjoying oneself immensely.
The book? Just a little something he found in the Library, handily translated and everything. If one were to look at the cover, it reads:
Judging by the slight frown of perplexity, it is quite the little piece of fictional literature.
For a given value of fictional, perhaps, this being Milliways...
((Edit of SlowTimes: Also known as aaaaaaargh I need sleep! This has been wonderful, lieblings, but the bed, it calls for me. I call slow-times, and wub you all!
Post is open until next EP. Which could mean weeks. I don't EP all that often, as you may have noticed.))
OOM + EP = <3
Jun. 21st, 2009 10:32 amnomorekaraokeLazing on a Sunday afternoon.
Some time later, when he should technically be heading across the hall to his office, Lorne walks into the bar. Bar kindly procures a shiny, rainbow colored drink the moment he takes a seat.
Perfectly botherable. If not in the best of moods (not that you'd ever tell.)
((OOC: Mun will be on and off for about an hour, then here for the remainder of the day.))
Some time later, when he should technically be heading across the hall to his office, Lorne walks into the bar. Bar kindly procures a shiny, rainbow colored drink the moment he takes a seat.
Perfectly botherable. If not in the best of moods (not that you'd ever tell.)
((OOC: Mun will be on and off for about an hour, then here for the remainder of the day.))
(no subject)
May. 3rd, 2009 11:06 amstilljustandrewOut of Milliways:
i see a man at the back as a matter of fact
his eyes are as red as the sun
and the girl in the corner let no one ignore her
cause she thinks she's the passionate one...
and the man in the back said everyone attack
and it turned into a ballroom blitz
tinytag: Lorne (the demon)
i see a man at the back as a matter of fact
his eyes are as red as the sun
and the girl in the corner let no one ignore her
cause she thinks she's the passionate one...
and the man in the back said everyone attack
and it turned into a ballroom blitz
tinytag: Lorne (the demon)
