milliways_bar | Entries tagged with melaka fray

Mel walks into the bar.
Mel walks into the Security Office.

(Someone with super hearing might hear her muttering: "Oh ferchissakes!")

Five minutes later, Mel stalks right back back through the bar and out of the front door. It slams behind her.

This all looks like it's well in hand.

Someone ELSE can deal with it.

[OOC: Sorry, guys, no time for playing.]

daringyoungman

There is a conversation going on in the rafters.

Participant 1 is also your Security Chief on duty: Mel is bent back in a crab position, her boots solid on one side of the rafter, her back arched and the crown of her head flat on the other side. Upside down, she's chatting casually with the Participant 2.

Robin - the teenager with the sunglasses, you know the one - is in a handstand on the other rafter. It's an easy position for him, but he can't shake the feeling that he has to keep up some sort of physical display as a sort of test.

She's not trying to test him, but this being a job interview he's not going to shake the feeling easily.

Either way, eventually they're going to finish this conversation, and then one or both of them is going to get something to eat.

el_enmascarado_de_plata

It's one thing to capture Santo's best friend, Blue Demon, and use a machine to hypnotize him into fighting for your evil organization. Hypnosis can be broken if you handle things right. Santo's dealt with that before, no problem. (Blue Demon was pretty pissed off when he woke up, but given that he and Santo were in Aquiles' secret base in Atlantis when it happened, he had plenty of targets to take out his frustration on.)

It's quite another to use a human-size duplicating machine to create a second version of Santo's best friend and make it evil from the start.

At least Santo got to use a morningstar when that happened. And Blue Demon, well... he didn't take the duplication any better than he did the hypnosis. Santo almost feels sorry for Dr. Halder for even trying.

Almost.

One luchador in the Bar with the morning Mexico City newspaper and a cup of coffee. Throwing down with Dr. Halder's reanimated horrors merits a little pick-me-up in Santo's book.

boston_bruiser

Voodoo really hasn't been feeling like himself lately.

There's the fever and runny nose, of course - that's to be expected if you're not smart about boarding in wintertime. (He was pretty sure he had enough layers on this time, but even so.)

Every so often, though, he'll catch himself thinking things in ancient Greek - which he's pretty sure he doesn't know, and which he's pretty sure should not come along with a cold. He's ignored it, for now, and brushed off the spike in more aggressive impulses as cabin fever.

So he's sitting on his barstool, nursing a cold one, when all of a sudden he gets up, turns, bellows-

"THIS! IS! SPARTAAAA!"

-and punts someone off their stool.

Was it your pup?

slayer_fray

When we say Mel comes flying through the door, we mean it literally, but it's nowhere near as impressive as she'd like it to appear. Her shoulder blades hit the door with a force hard enough to send it flying back on its hinges and smack against the bar wall. If you looked out of that door at the time, you might catch sight of the vampire that hit her, holding her scythe in his hands, eyes glowing yellow in a way vampire eyes are not meant to glow.

But it's more likely your attention will be distracted by the flying Slayer, who lands on the floor hard on her upper back, knocking out what breath she'd manage to regain after that punch. Or the bood splatter from her nose, which flies across the room far more gracefully than she herself can manage

Mel doesn't keep her eyes off the door. She scrambles to her feet and wipes the blood from her nose angrily before thrusting her hand backwards at the person standing just at the edge of her peripheral vision.

"Weapon!" she barks.

You'd better give her something.

shufti

Shufti's keeping an eye out for Mel tonight, as she keeps an eye on the bar in general.

Although she's got her Security badge on, at present she's engaged in repairing some upholstery, because a zombiepocalypse is no excuse for mismatching sofa cushions.

Botherable, though you may get roped in.

never_shall_yield

Javert, as usual, spent most of the day out with the horse. There was a long ride out in the middle of the day, and the afternoon spent cleaning her stall, and tack, and whatever else he could find of hers that needed tending to.

And now there is an evening stretched before him. Without any enthusiasm at all, he asks to be provided with a book. The Bar produces one on Napoleon.

'Must I?'

He had had quite enough of that man when he was young. But it does not disappear, so he takes it with a sigh, and retreats to his normal far corner.

[OOC: Open 'til the weekend. Catch him outside or in, either works. :)

ETA: BOOM. After 2am = time to crash. Thanks, guys. Catch ya tomorrow. <333]

srspirate

What is this?

A lively tune?

Your host is inspired to dance!

Those who enter the bar today may notice more than the usual commotion. There is music, a table tucked in a corner for receiving gifts, and a festive banner. It has flamingos on it. Pink ones.

In addition, there is a modest sandwich board set on the Bar with the following proclamation in festive script:

La Fête Spectaculaire!
Dinah Lance Party
Anything served in the half-shell is free
Do try the coconut punch
Follow the rose petals
➸

A scattering of rose petals lead the way outside, along the path to the beach.

(OoC: Welcome to the cross-community going away party/housewarming for

innerbrat & Dinah Lance! [details and announcement] This is a standard party post; shenanigans and thread-hopping are encouraged. For your convenience, an OoC thread has been set up at the end of the post for communicating, plotting, and sending some OoC love and well-wishes to the lovely Debi. Debi and I can be found on AIM as well and in crackchat off and on all weekend. So please stop by! Thanks everybody, let's have some fun and show Debi some love. ♥

ETA: Just as an aside, the "bring a present or duel" thing was entirely for the lulz. Your pups aren't obligated to one or the other unless they want to, and this remains completely open to everyone! XD)

srspirate

Tonight, Porthos can be seen furiously scribbling away with quill and parchment. Periodically, he pauses to quibble with Madam Bar.

"Of course I know what I am doing!" says he. "Well, what would you have me say?"

His taste is beyond reproach, but for the sake of peace he allows the Madam to assist. What transpires moments later is a new addition to the message board, invitation affixed with a finely penned parchment addendum.

M. Porthos du Vallon invites all
to attend a fete of particular magnificence
to honor the most desirable
Mlle. Dinah Lance
on her remotion to Star City
On the coming week-end
at midday
Do Not Be Late

Hands on his hips, he appraises his work with a satisfied sigh. Now, to acquire a suitable tribute!

(OoC: Reaction tags and Party Business only, please and thank you! If your pup has questions or thinks they'd like to assist, Porthos can be found at the bar.)

spit_it_out

Released.

The first thing Bruce does is go and get clean. Then find some clothes that make him feel - OK, not exactly like a human being, but closer than he was.

He's in no hurry to face the bar itself. The grounds, though, he doesn't try to resist. Apart from needing space around him, he thinks it might help to see the damage. He doesn't often get the chance to return to the scene.

He starts at the garden, heads to the lake, walks the cleared path through the middle of the forest. Flashes of the fight burst through; no continuity, nothing that makes sense as a whole. He's left wandering around with his hands in his pockets, and then, eventually, staring out over the lake.

He'll be back inside later, hidden in the darkest corner he can possibly find.

[OOC: ~~Catch him anywhere, outside or in. This is open until the weekend. <333~~ Guys, you are officially the best! But I must call slowtime for sleep. I'll pick everything up first thing. The doc and I thank you for you interest. <3333]

cute_bruiser

Afterwards, there is a skinny young woman with pink streaks in her hair, white-faced and worried-looking (but totally not upset, she swears), sprawled out long-limbed and asleep on a sofa.

She'd really rather not be, but she can't leave until she's left a note about... everything... for the rest of Security. And when she tried she quickly found she was still far, far too exhausted to write one that made any damn sense at all, and she can't sleep upstairs - she just can't, she's tried.

So she's asleep downstairs instead, for the foreseeable, sheets of paper tumbled to the floor where she finally lost the battle against sleep. (Some of them even have attempts at writing on; there's a Sharpie somewhere nearby, too.) But she's not so deeply asleep that she won't wake up if anyone strays too close.

cutting_edgex23

At some point during the day (or night) X makes her way inside, settling down at a table with a sandwich, a glass of milk, and her laptop.

She looks a lot less skittish than she has for the past several weeks.

She may also be looking up maps of the Paris Metro.

Preparation is important. Especially when dealing with the Facility.

a1enzo

Enzo is sprawled across a sofa this evening, and overflowing it in places. Teal bruises are visible on his neck and knuckles, and he is generally disinclined to move much just now.

Not that he's not satisfied with the day's achievements, but... it's been a long second.

shufti

Shufti is sitting by the trilobite tank, keeping an eye on the place as part of her Security shift.

So she's been reading up on this Public Relations stuff, in line with this whole diplomatic approach to Security she's been trying.* And armed with a book from a senior guard in Ankh-Morpork, has produced the following questionnaire.

Security Feedback Form
Name (optional): ________________________

1. How would you rate the Security service in this bar?
a. Excellent
b. Very good
c. Good
d. Not good
e. Troll

2. How can it be improved?
____________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________

3. Would you like to confess to any crimes today?
a. Yes (please use back of form)
b. No
c. HA! NICE TRY!

With that, she has deposited the pile of forms on the next table, with the box on her table, and is watching curiously to see what people do with them. Maybe this is how police in future worlds save time.

(Of course, if anyone writes anything threatening/incriminating, she will be putting them on file).

[*1. How about you don't do that?
2. Don't do that.
3. You're nicked, now come along sensibly.
4. Oh come on, don't make me shoot you, people have to clean up that sort of thing you know.]

12goingon113

Aang stands on the shore of Air Temple Island watching quietly as the Sun slips below the horizon. He waits with bated breath to see if the calendar Bar provided would be right. To see if a truly full Moon would rise.

His eyes drift from the mountain range to the Lake to the building spilling light just beyond the opposite shore. Were he not at the end of the universe, in a place where all reality met and twisted into knots, and himself standing on the shore of a temple built by Little Orange Men to resemble the homes of his ancestors, Aang would say it was a rather unimpressive night.

The weather is mild. The cold is finally starting to take the hint and step aside so that warmer weather can move in to take center stage. There's a breeze, but it doesn't carry the same chill as before. And certainly no where near as cold as where he's going.

He looks down at the bowl by his feet, where the Spirit of the Ocean swims in anxious circles.

Where they're going.
He hopes at least.

It's time. Time to go home and finish what someone else started.

[ooc: Aang's out on the Island, and is preparing to take La home so they can finish Book One together. Only...that's not how he'd phrase it. By all means feel free to join him, or find him. Or even to just see him.

If you want to wait to see the giant KoiZilla disappear, or react to the forming of Giant Koizilla, feel free to do that too!]

petraarkanian

Young!Petra palms the doorway to her backs, straightening her uniform as she does so. Her face is military smooth, as if one walking before a commanding officer one doesn't really like but won't offend.

Into the room she walks, but it isn't neat rows of bunks that meet her eyes, and is instead tables, low lighting, and a long wooden bar. "So much better." Petra mutters, as a smile tugs at her lips. She walks briskly to the bar. "May I have something to eat please, that is actually made out of what it says it is made out of?"

herr_bookman

A simple glance at Autor today will show him sitting at the bar, drinking his normal tea, with a pale face no longer painted with broad strokes of injury, but exhaustion.

Closer observation reveals the effort it takes for him to concentrate on writing his notes, despite his sharp-eyed, irritable gaze on the pages.

mnt_mike

There's a new note up on the bulletin board. It's written on a medium sized piece of poster board, and in a scrawl most often identified via orange crayon, but today appears to be made with black magic marker.

FOUND
One Ocean Spirit
Answers to the Name La
(Or would if he wasn't a fish)

Please contact Mike or Korra for more details.

slayer_fray

Notice on the Bulletin Board:

It's the First of May

If you MUST, have the decency to go deeper into the woods.
No one wants to see it.

[OOC: Not available for threading, sorry!]

slayer_fray

Oh no.

You hear that? That sound? That - dare we say it music that's coming from a table in the middle of the bar, where Mel is enjoying a plate of bacon and pancakes?

Does this mean the artifact is back?

No. What is actually means is that Melaka Fray is too obnoxious to use headphones in her personal music player. That's right, she is in fact that person. You should tell her what you think of that person.

Out in the training grounds by the lake is Dinah. But if you wanted to see her demolish a training dummy, you'll be disappointed. Instead, she is working through a series of martial arts forms - predominately naihanchi. The familiarity is soothing, and helps clear her mind, but it also reminds her of Okinawa, and Sensei Otomo, which is a bittersweet memory.

(She really ought to visit him again.)

As she loses herself a little more, she finds herself switching to taolu, based on forms she learned here years ago when suffering from the flu, and later perfected on her world with her own research.

The fact that she still sort of expects fire to come out of her fists when she practices these forms is neither here nor there.

12goingon113

The Lake is quiet. It's that magic time of day where there's a pause between the Day Risers are just bedding down in their burrows to sleep, while the Night Stalkers haven't yet stirred from their dens. Not even the moon has risen, though tonight it won't.

Which is a shame, because...that could have been helpful.

The glow begins off the shore of Bottle Temple Island. A pinprick of blue which grows and expands rapidly, spilling into other portions of the Lake. Not content to merely spread, the blue water begins to rise into a column that seems to extend into very sky itself. As if reaching for something that should be there, but isn't.

The water ceases to grow, and instead shifts until it has taken the form of a giant koi fish. In the center of the glowing mass of water a bright ball of light can be seen, and if one peers close enough at this ball of light they might just spot the shape of a boy with glowing arrow tattoos.

La has risen.
La is angry.
La demands justice.

[ooc: soooo, bar this is koizilla. koizilla, this is bar. koizilla is from the book one finale of Avatar: The Last Airbender, and is the spirit of the ocean who's really ticked off that someone has seemingly killed his partner, Tui the spirit of the moon.

if you attack him, he will probably try to drown you...which isn't to say you shouldn't try.
if you defer to him, he'll probably leave you alone...most likely.
if you try to appeal to his human nature, that being aang the glowing boy wonder in the center of his chest...well, let's see where that goes!]

slayer_fray

Mel, who found that the novelty of enforced shape and costume changes wears off pretty rutting quickly, tends to not hang out in Bar on certain days.

So it's a day late that she wanders into bar, leaves a card with Bar, along with presents for Stampy (a Batman costume) and Mike (An issue of Spectacular Spider-Man from 2025 - it's a fake from 2187, but a good one).

Grabs herself a coffee and a bag of donuts. Disappears up into the rafters to eat them.

(That's where that shower of powdered sugar is coming from.)

slayer_fray

[Out of Milliways:

The trouble with vampires....]

slayer_fray

Your Security Member on duty has, in defiance of all laws of common decency and hygiene in a place that serves food, her feet on the table. Her legs are straight, pushing her chair back onto the rearmost legs, and in the V of her lap sits her scythe and a full bag of chips.

Rather than eating the chips, however, she's painting her nails a lovely shade of purple.

bisexualfury

Smudge checked to see that the coast was clear of his overdue-rent-seeking-landlord, then ran down the corridor and into his tiny apartment. He nimbly stumbled over the various bits of interesting junk stacked around the place, past the shelf of sadly-nonsentient goo he had been patiently nurturing, and-

In the wall was a door that he was pretty sure had not been there before. Smudge blinked.

Well, maybe the bathroom door got tired of its location and decided to move; but no, that door was still there in position behind the couch. His curiosity piqued, Smudge trudged over to the door (a small, many-legged thing jolted out of its afternoon nap and scuttled hurriedly out of the way), pulled it open and peeked in.

It looked like some kind of bar. Smudge stared. He stepped in fully and shut the door, not noticing when it promptly vanished.

"Hey," he demanded of no one in particular. "Where did you guys come from?"

If this bar had always been part of his apartment, it would at least explain the rent.

[ooc: Mun is flying off to New York tonight and won't be able to tag for a day or so. :D]