milliways_bar | Entries tagged with matt murdock

[oom: You really shouldn't have said his name.]

When Matt walks in a whole lot of noise follows him. The police station he's exiting is in a state of chaos and Matt is speaking to someone behind him as he leaves.

"It's alright, Sergeant, I'm fine. Foggy or I will be around to check into those files later."

An apology from Brett Mahoney follows Matt as the door closes, and Matt sighs.

Matt is tired, and frustrated, angry even, but he's also just realized where he's walked into.

After a moment he decides he could use a respite from the cacophony he's just left and so, using his cane, Matt crosses the room and takes a seat up at the counter.

"Cup of coffee, please," he requests as he folds up his cane and sets it down on the counter.

Bar provides a cup along with a bowl of hearty potato soup with half a club sandwich tucked next to it.

Matt's stomach rumbles in response to the smell, but his expression is less enthused.

"Do you mother everyone who sits down?" he asks, to which Bar responds by providing a cloth napkin and a spoon.

Matt's jaw tics, but he withholds another sigh.

[ooc: warnings for violence and npc death in the oom.]

man_without_fear

[oom: "You're the worst, you know that, right?"

"No worse than your cat."]

[tiny tag: Claire Temple]

[ooc: warnings for language and mild adult situations]

sunbaked_baker

Sunshine has been doing well. Really well, she had to be honest, even if there are still the occasional moments when things backslide pretty terribly. She can't be sure just what will bring back those terrors that have no place in daylight - sometimes the cause makes no sense to her, afterwards, when she tries to examine the experience - and she doesn't really have a good way to deal with them apart from just waiting for them to pass.

Today, it had been the texture of a particularly sticky focaccia dough sliding between her fingers, stray bits of it drying in crusty flakes beneath her fingernails. Her easy, unfocused attention and her imagination had unexpectedly been caught by the glutinous feel of it, the way it slid wetly over her skin, and suddenly she had found herself shuddering hard, eyes watering, her skin crawling and stomach turning in revulsion.

(And she plunged her hands into the mire of the master vampire's chest, and wrenched out his heart. She watched the mass deliquesce and dribble between her fingers to sizzle upon the ruined concrete.)

The dough sits, slowly drying on the floured counter, long after she has scrubbed every trace of it from her hands and forearms, her skin pink from the scrubbing and the hot water. She still isn't sure she can go back to it just yet. Out of the need to keep her shaking hands busy, she seeks distraction in making tea.

The focaccia will have to wait.

sunbaked_baker

So often back in her world, Rae is already at work when the sun rises in the morning. Dawn is her favorite time of day, and yet she so rarely gets to see it - really see it - to take in the ending of darkness and bask in the beginning of light. To witness the daily reminder that no darkness lasts forever.

But today she gets to, thanks to Milliways. She is seated on the picnic table near the back door of the bar, with her hands wrapped around a faintly steaming mug of tea, looking out towards the lake and the mountain beyond it, and the brilliantly-colored sky above them. The surface of the lake reflects the brilliant, fiery oranges and reds of the sky in each glimmering wavelet, and the snow-covered peak of the mountain glows golden where the early light touches it.

The early December chill feels good against Rae's skin, still warm from her pre-dawn run around the lake. She is relatively well-rested, her muscles warmed but not wearied by her run, and - almost startlingly - she feels at peace.

Sunshine knows better than to question peace when it comes. So she sits, basking in the sunrise and her own peace while they last.

man_without_fear

The front door opens a tiny crack, like it wasn't properly latched and has come ajar. A moment later a tiny nose pokes through, followed soon by a fuzzy head.

A cat, black and white with wide yellow eyes, peeks into Milliways, meowing to announce this new discovery, then slipping through the crack into the bar.

"No, no, no, no-- "

The door swings wide, pushed open by a man in a black mask, a box of kitty kibble in his hand.

He's too late, the cat makes a break for freedom and adventure, and Matt is left standing in the doorway trying to track the feline as it threads its way through the chaos of the bar.

"Damn it."

There is absolutely no way Claire is ever going to let him live this down.

sunbaked_baker

(OOM: "So... apart from healing and resting and knowing there'll be questions, do we have any sort of plan?"

"So far today our track record with plans isn't too hot, Sunshine.")

From the other side of the main door, there is the sound of someone fumbling to get a key into a lock. Carefully fumbling, though, wanting to avoid putting too much pressure on the key when seemingly any pressure is too much. Why had she insisted on going in by herself instead of letting Jesse help her?

Eventually, the door opens, and Rae steps through, keys held loosely in one hand, an assortment of pharmacy bags held in the crook of her other arm. The knot of anticipated relief that had been growing in her chest swells and bursts when she sees where she is, leaving her lightheaded from pain and unsteady on her feet.

She is, it has to be said, a mess. Her clothing is mostly intact, though her kerchief is gone and her lavender blouse's neckline is charred black and fraying loose. All the better, though - she couldn't have endured the shirt's collar so close around her neck as she is now. Severe burns cover much of her neck and hands with angry red blisters, shiny with a thick application of ointment. Bruises cover more of her than even the burns, and her hair has been burned short on her left side. The frizzled fringe brushes lightly against her left cheek as she wavers. The rest of her hair is still in the long braid she had worn when she had left Milliways so many months ago and earlier today, though now it is lopsided and hanging loose on the left side.

Before her knees can give way beneath her, Rae closes the door and steps unsteadily over to the bar, spilling her collection of prescription bags onto the counter as she drops onto a bar stool. She lets herself breathe, letting the closed door behind her put distance between the events of the morning and now. Feeling faintly sick, she puts her aching head down on the cool, polished wood.

"Thank you," Sunshine whispers.

nocturnalmedicine

[ oom: "Some devil you turned out to be." ]

[ tiny tag: claire temple ]

- - - - -

[ ooc: warnings for language, allusions to violence, and mild adult situations ]

nocturnalmedicine

[ oom: "Far as Samaritans go, I guess you're all right." ]

[ tiny tag: claire temple ]

- - - - -

[ ooc: warnings for language and allusions to violence ]

man_without_fear

The Bar is probably the last place Matt wants to be in after his stint of being trapped in Milliways, but he has a houseguest, and she needs more to wear than just his robe.

Dressed in suit and tie with his cane in tow, Matt enters Milliways and heads straight for the counter. A brief conversation with Bar yields a duffel bag and two cups of coffee.

The coffee gets an odd head-tilt from Matt, but he ignores the mugs and takes up the bag with a quiet thanks.

Slinging the duffel over his shoulder, he turns around with the intent of making a quick exit.

Entering the bar he never let the door leave the edges of his senses, wanting to make sure it didn't vanish again. Now, as he reaches it, the door is still there, but when his hand goes out to grab the handle it opens ahead of him.

Stepping back to avoid the swing, Matt freezes, stunned by who is standing in the open doorway.

"Claire."

Well, then…

[tiny tag: Claire Temple]

[ooc: This is Claire Temple's first EP into Milliways; feel free to welcome her. All threads take place after Claire and Matt's — feel free to tag one or the other, or both!]

nocturnalmedicine

[ oom: "You cook for every girl you bring home?"
"Nah, just the ones that keep me alive." ]

[ tiny tag: claire temple ]

- - - - -

[ ooc: warnings for language and mild adult situations; major spoilers for Daredevil 1.05, "World on Fire" ]

man_without_fear

[oom: "I'm here. I have you."]

[ooc: warnings for abduction, violence and language. spoilers for episode 1.4]

man_without_fear

[oom: "Your side of the street's a little darker than mine."

"We live in the same neighborhood."]

[ooc: set before Matt's adventures bound in the bar]

man_without_fear

Matt is in the main bar today sitting at a table near where the front door should be.

He's been an angry, roiling mess since being Bound in Milliways, but today there is a focus and quiet about him. The anger is there, to be sure, covered by a mask of calm on his features, but he isn't fighting it anymore. Matt has accepted his stay here and he's spent a lot of time since his conversation with a friend meditating and working himself past his fixation on being trapped and the crisis waiting outside the door.

He's rested, relaxed even, and ready to get back out there. The Bar seems different, today feels different, and so he sits and waits; wearing the same suit he had on when he arrived months ago, eating lunch and calmly reading over a newspaper done in braille from the day he left Hell's Kitchen.

Every coming and going through the front door is noted, and within him there is a slow build of anticipation, somehow knowing the moment is coming soon.

[ooc: This will be Matt's last EP before a canon push and it's open until it scrolls.]

almosthonorable

The Ben Wade who enters the bar cuts a slightly leaner figure than he used to. Blame old-fashioned manual labor, and frugal living.

He's sweating and sunburnt beneath the brim of his beat-up brown hat, and he's counting himself damn lucky to've walked in. Here, he can pour iced water down his sawdust-dry throat.

At the counter, he's greeted with a napkin from Bar; his mouth quirks in a half-smile.

"Awful good to see you, too."

Another napkin appears.

"Thank you for holdin' on to 'em for me. I appreciate your safe-keepin'. Might be a while, yet, before I'll need 'em."

A third napkin.

"That so? Well, happy Mother's Day, Miss Bar. If you celebrate it."

Ben can't rightly say where his own mother might be. Or if she's above ground, now.

Still.

Even bad men love their mamas.

Which is why, as Ben pours himself a glass of ice water from the pitcher Bar graciously provides, he wonders, briefly, if that Bible she left his eight-year-old self with at the train station is still intact, somewhere — its spine and cover creased and cracked, maybe laying open on somebody's dinner table, or sitting shut and silent on a dusty shelf.

[ ooc: well, hel-lo — it's been a hot one and a half, y'all. open indefinitely! ]

[ tiny tag: cassian andor ]

childofrebellion

When the door opens to Milliways, Cassian is in his captain's jacket and slightly cradling his left arm as well as carrying a datapad. Outside the door, there's the rumble of ships and the friendly grumbling of workers along with the beep of droids.

As he comes through the door and noise around him shifts, he glances up and nods to himself before settling on a couch that has a good view of the Bar then orders a caf from a rat. He has to put this report together and decide where to go next and he's technically resting his arm, so Kay won't have another reason to complain.

Tiny tag: Cassian Andor

sunbaked_baker

It's one of those Spring days. One of those days when the sunlight is bright and warm upon your face, but the breeze is cool and refreshing. When the trees' first leaves are still that impossibly bright green, still just beginning to unfurl and turn to follow the sun. The grass is soft and clean under one's feet, and the garden plants are starting to wake up and get down to some serious growing.

And there is a Sunshine, feeling better - feeling more herself, certainly - sitting on a stone bench in the lee of one of the blossoming cherry trees. Her head is tilted to rest lightly against the tree trunk, her upturned eyes partially closed. The morning sun warms her back and shoulders, but the rest of her is dappled with the shadows of the blossoms above her, fluttering in the breeze.

If one were feeling generous, one might say she is meditating, or practicing mindfulness, or something high-minded like that. A cynic (or someone who knows her) might remark that she's probably fallen asleep. With more accuracy, one might say that Sunshine is just letting herself be, at the moment. Not thinking or worrying or trying to accomplish anything. Just soaking in the sunlight and existing, for a while.

It's very easy, when she lets herself unfocus, to let her gaze drift into the more visionary depths of her Dark Sight. At the moment, Rae is following the cascade of little sparks following the veins in each flower petal, basking in the tree's delight in the warm light of the Spring sun, the way its branches stretch and reach for it with every fiber of their being, and the tree's trust in the strength it draws from its roots, spreading, searching, down in the darkness under the earth.

It is occasionally good to be reminded that one can be pulled both ways and still sometimes, somehow, find peace.

sunbaked_baker

Sunshine is pretty sure she must've slept crooked or something last night. She woke up tired, which is not out of the realm of what counts as 'normal' for her, but also aching like she had hauled rocks the previous day. A full-body crick-in-the-neck. That was new, and not something she wants to become a habit. So, despite the aches and pains as well as the cold, heavy clouds, and sporadic rain lingering from yesterday's storm, Rae forces herself to get up, get dressed, and go outside to stretch and do her morning run.

Though 'morning' is being generous. Dawn is still late, this time of year, and the overshadowing weather just delays daylight further. The bar grounds and lake shore are as dark as midnight.

Usually, her morning run is almost serene, if she doesn't let herself dwell on why it's necessary. She uses her run as a good opportunity to spend some time getting her thoughts in order before the day begins, her Dark Sight letting her find her way through the dark with hardly any effort. But Shiva wept, it's wretched outside today. Even with her running shoes' good traction, the mud of the saturated ground requires her to pay attention to every footfall to keep from slipping in it. She stumbles more than once, and the going is more arduous than usual.

By halfway around the darkened lake, she knows she has to slow down. Her head is pounding, and her chest isn't thanking her for all the lungfuls of cold, wet air. Rae leans on a rain-soaked tree trunk, coughing so hard she see sparkling bursts of color behind her eyelids. Like fireworks.

Damnation.

notapilot

It's that time again. Sam puts up the notice on the board and leaves flyers with Bar (as well as asking her politely to translate for anyone who asks).

Fight Club outback today:
Rules are simple
1-Fight friendly
2-Be honest with skills and abilities
3-Break off the fight if it's getting serious
4-Square areas are for sparing with weapons
5-Circle areas are for sparing hand to hand
6-Any area (square or circle) that also has a triangle is for teaching

There are enchanted/high tech weapons available for use that will heal when they strike. (Weird, yes, but I've tested them so I know it's true.)
Security and Infirmary staff are present, but please try not to need us. This is for fun and not grudges.

[OOC: See this backroom post for OOC rules. Feel free to contact me via DM or Discord if you have questions or concerns.]

man_without_fear

Being Bound hasn't suited Matt at all. He's had time to rest and recuperate, his shoulder is nearly healed and he's probably slept more the last few weeks than he has the last couple of years; and he hates it.

Coming down the stairs and navigating through the bar with his cane there's a tightness of contained frustration in him. He's anxious to get back through his door and increasingly aggravated when he checks and it still hasn't returned.

Bar and the rats have taken the opportunity to make sure he has three meals a day, something he hasn't done since before college, and in an effort to appease whatever force is keeping him here Matt has made at least the attempt to eat them.

Today, though, he barely picks over the sandwich and chips he's given before he pushes the plate aside and turns his focus to the front door. Or rather, where the door should be.

He's missing something, he has to be.

Sitting near the door with chin in hand and elbow resting on the tabletop he tunes out his surroundings and tries to focus on the problem.

There's a key somewhere, he just has to figure out how to find it.

man_without_fear

[oom:"We're doing good here, Foggy." "Are we?"]

... ~~the hallway~~ the Bar.

Matt bursts into Milliways at a dead run, halting himself just before he plows over a wait rat.

The rodent runs off and Matt stands gasping for breath, suit and tie a rumpled mess, head canting furtively, reading his surroundings and urgently trying to identify them.

A moment later he whirls around, pulling up short from running into a wall.

A wall. Not a door.

Feeling out with his hands he confirms it. No handle, no hinges, no way back to Claire.

It's all slow to process and for a moment all he can say is, "No."

[oom: Spoilers for episode 1.4 in the link and likely in any threads. Catch him when he comes in or at a nearby table after.]

man_without_fear

"Can I get some coffee?" The request comes from Matt who is sitting at the counter, dressed for business but perhaps not as kempt as he could be. His hair is a bit tousled, and his tie is a little crooked, and he maybe could have shaved, but at least today's bruises are hid under cloth.

He's had a long night in what's been a series of long nights, and he's facing a long day ahead.

Taking a moment to arch his neck, cracking bones, he gives a sigh and smiles when the requested coffee appears.

"Thank you."

Milliways advantage number one in his book is caffeine loading on the good stuff here before facing whatever is waiting at the office.

man_without_fear

[oom: I've been preoccupied of late with questions of morality.]

The thing about being blind is you don't need to close your eyes to shut out the light, it's always gone, and those things that lurk in the darkness behind everyone's eyelids always have a canvass to appear on when the world is always black.

Matt Murdock might witness events differently than the sighted, but they still playback in the mind's eye to troubling, sleepless affect.

Sitting in a corner booth Matt is the most dressed-down he's ever been in Milliways; wearing sweats, an old pair of tennis shoes and a t-shirt. His hair is slightly tousled, like maybe he was wearing a hat (~~or a mask~~) or restless sleeping, and his slouched posture is equal parts worn-thru and troubled.

Today wasn't a good day, and tonight was the worst he's been through since his work started.

A case ended without resolution, and a confrontation resulted in the most shocking death of a man Matt is likely ever to witness.

The scene keeps replaying itself over and over in his mind. Again and again he goes through the fight, the interrogation and reveal that finally came of it, and then the resulting reaction from his opponent.

Most troubling of all is the fear the man displayed at the end. Fear of a single man, of his name.
Wilson Fisk
Fear which was so visceral it was very nearly contagious.

Matt can still hear the chaotic drumming of the man's heart, and a part of Matt believes that if Healy hadn't killed himself he probably would have died of a heart attack.

Instead, that rapid-rate pulse from fear reached an incredible crescendo and was then suddenly cut-off.

Just stopped.

And it left a chilling silence in its wake.

It's the silence Matt is in the bar to get away from. The hush of death followed him home, lingering in every corner of his apartment until Matt was forced to finally find a doorway here. Now he sits with a glass of scotch and a bottle nearby, head tilted and his eyes behind his glasses open, drawing in the bar around him with all of his remaining senses; trying to push out the quiet void left from an alleyway in Hell's Kitchen.

[ooc: spoilers for episode 1.3 in the link. EP open forever, but extra-slow-sporadic-tagging-times will commence beginning Friday when the mun skips town for a vacation. Spoilers in thread are very likely, so please let me know if you prefer not.<3]

witchfinder_general

The church is finished now, and in Father Harman's keeping.

For that, he's going to hold a special dedication service, never mind who comes and who doesn't. The church is finished, can now properly be dedicated to St. Melchior as intended, and that needs ceremony. If necessary, that can be between Harman and God.

At the moment, he's outside the church, preparing flowers in vases to carry inside. He will be glad for any help, but can do this by himself without any trouble, either.

[[OOC: Some people needed / wanted to meet Father Harman: this is your chance!]]

man_without_fear

[oom: That's not a client. It's a shark in a skin suit.]

Matt and Foggy have been working long hours building their case. Between their antiquated office equipment, lousy WiFi and guilty as sin client, it hasn't been easy.

When the coffee pot runs dry and the office downstairs catches Foggy raiding their hospitality bar once again Matt decides the time has come to take advantage of Milliways.

Stepping into the bar Matt takes up a seat on a stool, parking his cane against the counter beside him and smiling when a cup of coffee appears without any request.

He looks tired, but the bruising at his temple is fading, and there's no more favoring of his right side as that has come along in its healing.

[ooc: spoilers for episode 1.3 in the link. This EP is open all weekend, mun will be off and on throughout.]

man_without_fear

[oom: Like Foggy said, we're particular about our clients.]

It's the first time Matt has deliberately tried looking for Milliways.

Up until now the place has appeared on its own, but as Matt taps his way through the door to the fifteenth precinct and finds the bar he's hoping for instead, he realizes there is some control over it after all.

Adjusting his glasses in an attempt he knows won't work to hide the bruising on his temple, Matt heads straight for the counter and makes a quiet request to Bar for a clean shirt. She provides an exact match to his own and a small paper sack with it. Inside the sack Matt finds clean gauze, alcohol wipes and a lollipop.

Discreetly Matt takes it all to the restroom and changes. On his return it's his intention to just thank Bar and ask that the next few drinks ordered by Jay the mechanic and Curtis be paid for by his tab, anonymously. But, as he's trying to think of a way to describe Curtis without having a last name or giving away too much Matt is presented with a basket.

Surprised, he runs fingertips over the note that comes with it and manages a quick, small smile.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to hold onto this for me a while longer," he says to Bar apologetically.

The basket vanishes, but left in its place is a hunk of one of the cinnamon rolls on a plate and a cup of coffee.

"Tenacious, aren't you?" Matt sighs.

[ooc: spoilers for episode 1.3 in the link.]