milliways_bar | Entries tagged with maximum

sky-high-max.livejournal.com

There's a loud slam as the door flies open...

And an equally loud slam as the girl responsible for launching it open crashes headlong into the nearest tables. Thus toppling them, their patrons, and all food thereon.

Ouch.

Er... Sorry about that.

...Ouch.

In retrospect, that might not be the wisest place to sit in the future, eh?

sky-high-max.livejournal.com

Max looks a little relieved to see the bar today.

The twins have been asking what Halloween is all week, and she's tired of it.

There are no holidays for those on the run.

...Except, of course, for those involving an odd restaurant with it's own sense of time, a winged girl, and a glass of cherry coke.

youngesthyuga.livejournal.com

As the door to Milliways opens, a small girl dressed in training or workout clothes walks in. It's clear from the way her facial expression changes that she wasn't expecting to walk into a bar, of all places.

"What is going on?" she asks aloud. If this is an illusionary jutsu of some kind, it's a damn good one.

Hyuuga Hanabi has entered Milliways.

river_meimei

Sometimes, you come to the bar to talk to people. To see and be seen; to get something tasty and maybe rare; even to peoplewatch while you brood, or to hope someone will distract you from the inside of your head.

And sometimes (if you're River, anyway) you come because ten peop- nine people on one ship is somehow more crowded and more empty all at once than a full bar, and in a way it's quieter here.

At least, that's what someone who knew the situation might guess. River's not telling.

What she is doing is slipping through the front door, pale and withdrawn, and making her way across the room, and ducking behind and beneath Bar, out of easy sight.

Someone could probably stop her along the way, though, or follow her to talk. If they felt so inclined.

sky-high-max.livejournal.com

Bird-girl is looking much cleaner than she did when she arrived yesterday, and is now sitting at the bar, sipping a cherry coke and playing with one of the leaves that had been in her hair.

She's trying to deal with the fact that it's been months since she was last here, even though it's only been about a week to her. That and she's trying to decide whether or not to go home soon, since the door is still there.

But that's far from the only thing on her mind, which seems apparent since her face keeps changing from a grin to a frown and back.

sky-high-max.livejournal.com

The door swings open, revealing one very disheveled looking young woman, complete with rumpled clothing and leaves in her hair.

At first, she's not looking too happy, somewhere between anger and tears, but then...

She notices where she is.

"Wow!" she cheers. "It's been months!"

She doesn't even bother checking whether or not the door remains in existence. Instead she goes and gets herself a cherry coke and starts to mingle.

Anybody familiar around?

sky-high-max.livejournal.com

Max's mun has been lazy.

Which is why Max has been doing little but trying to get the Quidditch field set up for the past few days.

She's taking a break in the bar though. She's enjoying a cherry coke and trying to figure out what to do about the remaining gaps in the teams.

Feel free to say hi.

sky-high-max.livejournal.com

Max hasn't been inside as much lately.

It's because she keeps seeing military people with guns. And you know how she is about that.

But she's inside right now, to check on the Broomless Quidditch sign-up sheet.

There's still a few slots left, if you're interested. Or you could just ask her why she seems so jumpy.

withoutanydoubt.livejournal.com

It had never been uncommon to find Riza Hawkeye on the shooting range, were she not actively needed for some other task. Everyone has one particular thing that they are best at, above all other talents, and such skills need honing. So she had always believed. Of late, however, honing her skills had turned into something of an obsession. Of course, there were those who had always called her obsessive, or occasionally by the more pleasant term 'perfectionist'. It fell out to the same thing in the end.

Either way, it is not entirely without precedent that when she enters, the shooting range is visible behind her. Nor that she smells, ever so faintly, of gunpowder and machine oil.

She stops just three steps inside the door, the minimum necessary for her to check her momentum, to tell her legs what her brain had already recognized: She is not were she is supposed to be.

Her brow furrows slightly, eyes narrowing as somewhere in the back of her mind she instinctively checks corners, exits, avenues of attack and escape, while at the forefront she grasps for any possible way to explain how she'd taken a route more familiar than her own appartment, and ended up somewhere entirely new.

plant-alchemist.livejournal.com

Russell has taken over a table again with research notes and books. He's reading through one of the books right now, brows furrowed in concentration. It's not his usual subject and he's working on trying to apply it to his own work.

He could probably use a break, he tends to forget about such pesky things as that.

sky-high-max.livejournal.com

Max goes over to check her flier. To her delight, it's already started to fill up.

She makes note of who's signed up so far, adds an extra note, then puts the bulliten back up:

Seeking flying beings for broomless Quidditch!
Requirements: Must have means of flying for a long period of time, either naturally or via magic. Must also have some means with which to carry and throw a ball.
Practices start ASAP - Game dates TBA
Any questions please contact Maximum or Duo Maxwell.
~If anyone wants to referee, please note below the sign-ups!~

( Sign-up list )

She then sits down at the bar not far from the board, just in case anyone needs to ask a question.

Because she'd really like some conversation right about now.

sky-high-max.livejournal.com

Max puts up a flyer on the bulliten board.

Seeking flying beings for broomless Quidditch!
Requirements: Must have means of flying for a long period of time, either naturally or via magic. Must also have some means with which to carry and throw a ball.
Practices start ASAP - Game dates TBA
Any questions please contact Maximum or Duo Maxwell.

There are twelve numbered lines on the paper.

Feel free to sign up or ask questions.

[ooc: Mun will be slowtiming on questions.]

sky-high-max.livejournal.com

Max is clearly looking for someone.

Two someone's actually. One Duo and one Angelina.

But even if you're not that someone, it's still probably obvious that she's looking a little confused and is browsing the bar rather intently. Feel free to interrupt, whoever you are.

sky-high-max.livejournal.com

She's wandering around the bar after a long brainstorming session. If she looks a bit rumpled, this is why.

She'll talk to most anyone, but in particular, she's looking for one Duo Maxwell and one Angelina Johnson.

She's been thinking, you see. That's what that brainstorming session was about. And well, she has ~~evil~~ plans that they might like to know about.

lt-naraht.livejournal.com

Horta in the ~~House~~ Bar.

And he's trying like hell to figure out why Bar gave him this.

Anyone want to help him out?

Or maybe be a convenient target?

wizard-kit.livejournal.com

So, say there's an iPod. An iPod that insists on always playing the same song over and over and over.

And say the song is something annoying like 'Bill Me Up Buttercup.' (Or, if you like that song, the most annoying song you can possibly think of.)

Then you may understand why Kit is sitting at a table fighting with his iPod in the Speech.

"Please. Stop playing that song. Spare me."

sky-high-max.livejournal.com

Max is now sitting at an otherwise-empty table, chewing on a straw.

She's clearly got something on her mind as she scoots her empty glass from hand to hand, occasionally gesturing as though drawing in the air.

She could probably use a pen and paper, but she's not desperate enough to ask the bar yet, and this isn't that important anyway.

In other words, feel perfectly free to interrupt.

sky-high-max.livejournal.com

Max wanders into the bar, feeling rather refreshed. Her mun really needs to figure out what room, exactly, the girl is staying in.

In any case, she's completely oblivious to the fact she's woken up in the middle of the night. All she really knows or cares is that at the moment, she's thirsty. She's been asleep for a good 12 hours, after all.

She steps up to the bar and decides to get a smoothie this... er, evening. Taking the drink, she remains leaning there a moment, looking around for somewhere to sit.

Got an empty seat?

[ooc edit: Oh great... Need to go, sorry. Will resume/restart tomorrow.]

sky-high-max.livejournal.com

She's been sleeping in a booth for nearly a week now.

So now she's finally up at the bar, asking for a room key. She's staring mournfully at where the door is/should be...

It'll be a while before Max heads to her room, though. At least until she finishes her butterbeer.

She could use some company until then.

sky-high-max.livejournal.com

For the first time since her arrival, Max is wandering around the Bar on her own. This is the first time she's come out of her booth for more than a few minutes since her arrival. She probably still wouldn't be out, but between curiosity and the fact she can't stand being confined for too long, she's given up on hiding and is trying to be friendly.

She's shyly waving at anyone who happens to glance at her.

Feel free to take that as a sign she wants to converse.

[ooc: Anyone can tag, and feel free to ping if you have any ideas/plans.]

sky-high-max.livejournal.com

In a booth near the door, Max sits up and rubs her eyes.

She stretches out her arms and wings, fluffs her hair a little, and then stands up. She's got to move the chairs she used to block the ends of the booth back to the table they came from.

She's got one ear of her headphones on, and is listening to something kind of poppish, circa late 1990s USA. On the table is three unopened cans of cherry coke and as many empty ones, along with two empty plates, a bag of chips, and a box of fruit snacks.

The girl just spent her first night in the bar, and is probably glancing over her shoulder repeatedly to check to see if there's a door yet. She's a little jumpy right now. But hey, she's got fruit snacks for breakfast.

She's really got nothing to do, though. Ask nicely and she may even give you some of her snackage.

[ooc: Mun also has nothing to do, so, is free to take as many threads as people that want to bug her. Or something more grammatically sound than that.]

sky-high-max.livejournal.com

The door swings open to reveal one teenage girl, arms full of snacks and a drink, bag of chips in her mouth. Her headphones are on and she seems to be quite enjoying her music as she half-dances into the bar, kicking the door shut behind her.

Then, suddenly, she realizes that this is definitely, definitely not her room. Her eyes are wide as she tries and fails not to look surprised, promptly spinning around and heading back for the door.

Which isn't there.

Naturally, she wants to panic, as she suspects this is some sort of odd trick or maybe just a nightmare. But she resists the temptation to, and instead drops the chips on the floor and turns off her music, pressing her back to the wall.

She's trying to get her bearings, you see, and the view out the windows isn't helping any.

Maximum is most certainly new here, and she could probably use some comforting, or at least for someone to tell her what's going on.

And, oh yeah... Anyone who takes a second look will probably realize that this girl's got wings.