milliways_bar | Entries tagged with muldoon

prob-japanese.livejournal.com

The nice thing about being a Cybertronian as opposed to a human is that no matter how much energy your puppy has, you always have more. Bumblebee spent a lot of time today playing with Carburetor specifically so that the fleethound pup would be too exhausted to protest when he finally slipped away. He's in the Bar now, practicing bot-mode infiltration up in the rafters, and occasionally dropping down to the ground as quietly as he can just to see how many times in a row a bright yellow-and-chrome robot can pull a feat like that off without being noticed.

Feel free, of course, to notice him; he needs the criticism to improve his performance.

[Tinytag: Stark, Jaime Reyes]

killitwithfire

Axel is not sitting by the fire.

Axel is not sitting at the bar.

Axel is, in fact, sitting at a table. A table strewn with circuit boards, and bits of wire, and translucent crystals, and strangely glowing things, and...

He's muttering to himself, with the occasional, louder curse audible.

On the table are a number of dogeared books, including such titles as Trinary for the Bored.

By the time one of the circuit boards meets a hot and slaggy death, he might just welcome a distraction.

gone_byebye

Ray comes downstairs in his university librarian clothes today and heads straight for the message board, where he tacks up a sizable notice:

( Regarding The Current State Of The Bar And The Visitors Thereto )

Upon doing so he heads to the Bar and says, "Would you mind, please, giving a copy of this note to anyone who comes in and wants to know what's going on?" He then places a folded paper bearing the same text as the message board notice on the opened dumbwaiter. "Thank you. Now, if I could have some Turkish coffee, I'm feeling homesick for Miskatonic today."

ltmuldoon.livejournal.com

[ooc: 1905 is Catchy San Diego goes back in time!]

"ALRIGHT."

The bar door opens and closes.

"ALRIGHT. I KNOW YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH THIS." he throws the bar a death glare, "I WANT THE PARTY RESPONSIBLE. NOW."

Muldoon for the record looks somewhat like a modified version of This.

Feel free to laugh at him.

ltmuldoon.livejournal.com

Muldoon meant to be discreet.

He was coming down to the bar for a very real purpose-that purpose being to collect a few items and deposit them.

"Ma'am?" He drops a stack of papers on the countertop, "If you see Wells around, can you give him these?

There is a-

( Note of detailed proportions )

And a brochure followed by a Business Card.

That done, he sits up a little straighter only to see-

His door.

And like that, he's gone.

calledironeyes.livejournal.com

Marsh is settled at a chair, reading and waiting. He'll be leaving soon, but it would go against the spirit of the bargain with Rider to attempt to leave without her - however dangerous her desire to go may prove to either of them. To both of them.

None of that shows on his face. Marsh has far too much of a stone-face going for his own good.

lissla-lissar.livejournal.com

When you get right down to it, Lissar's taste in music includes anything that I can sing along with. Also, loud. Which is why right now the Milliways garage is ringing with country music from a wide selection of artists, and one white woman singing along at the top of her lungs. Some of the windows closest to her sound-system car are flexing slightly.

Lissar, herself, has her hair back in a kerchief, a set of greasy overalls on, and is black from fingertips to shoulders, and in streaks across her face. She's also very, very cheerful. The dogs are as far away from her (and her noise) as they can get.

not-toothfairy.livejournal.com

When Ironhide emerges from the garage today, his armor is positively gleaming. Lissar was well enough to get her car-care kit out and give his alt form a really good wash and polish today, and it shows. He'll be looking into movies for the both of them later, but today he's heading out back for laser accuracy practice. Even he appreciates precision at times.

ltmuldoon.livejournal.com

There's an exhausted looking soldier turned werewolf in the bar examining three objects on the table in front of him with intense scrutiny.

The first is a bar tab that he occasionally stares at as if he's willing money to appear.

The second is a photograph taken from far away of a man and a woman who apparently seem very happy with each other. The woman has long black hair an dthe man wears a suit and a tie and sports an office look about him.

The third is a photograph so worn that the figures are almost blurred. It's torn on the edges and stained with dried blood and fingerprint smudges.

He kicks his chair back, leaning directly into a main walkway as he examines both photograph and bar tab. Fun fact number one: The woman in the worn photograph is the exact same woman as the one in the long-range photograph with a man clearly not the one seated here or now.

Fun fact number two. He is in fact in the way of a main walkway. You could tell him to move?

ltmuldoon.livejournal.com

The man in the bar is carefully groomed and wearing a very neat pair of fatigues with uniform insigna that any military buff would recognize as belonging to a two-star general with a background in special forces.

The tag over his chest reads "Devareaux" but that's not the figure who walks into the bar and closes the door.

No. It's Muldoon, back after a lengthy absence. He seems dismayed (after a moment) when he realizes where he is, but he shrugs it off and moves toward the bar politely asking for a towel (His hands are a red mess and stink of something that has to be blood).

Halfway through cleaning them he eyes the sky and stifles a growl, "Oh fuck."

Bother?

lissla-lissar.livejournal.com

Once, a time ago, Lissar was given a small lesson. She is outside, now, at behest of her own thoughts; her own drives, and she practices as best she can the movements taught.

She is graceful, always, but unlearned.

not-toothfairy.livejournal.com

Prime said last night for Ironhide to take some R&R, and that's exactly what he's doing. There's just one little thing, though: when it comes to Ironhide, recreation is usually something incendiary, at best. His current idea of a little light time off? Skeet shooting.

With the plasma cannon.

At least it's putting him in an excellent mood, but... Look, just beware of the FA-THOOOOMs coming from the open space outside, okay?

bartletstrust.livejournal.com

Jed is on his way out of his office, a necktie in one hand and his lit cigarette in the other, when he realizes that he's not in the West Wing. Again.

He blinks, and puts the tie in his pocket, to make his way over to Bar.

"You trying to help me dodge that press conference, ma'am, or is this just whim? Not that I'm complaining, mind.
There had to be one place in the universe no one was going to make me sign anything." With a pleased smile, he orders lunch with a side order of relaxation and people-watching.

stubborn-annie.livejournal.com

Ace isn't the only one who's been looking high and low for Spoon the past few days. Harry's been going at it by scent trails and hunting up witches willing to do divinations, and Ace's been skittering around through time, but Annie's been making telephone calls and occasionally showing photographs around. The photographs have been rarely deployed, as she doesn't much want to give Spoon trouble staying low-profile in future, but it hasn't really mattered much. No one's seen him. The telephone calls... well, Horatio Greene was briefed on the entirety of the Wells family situation some time ago, and he's issued orders to his subordinates to do what's necessary within reason to keep them from wanting to use the blackmail device, at least until some way can be found around it.

Not that it matters. They don't have him either, and Annie knows it.

It's frustrating, and it's kept her up later than usual the past few nights, mostly going over the London bakery's books to make sure no funny business is being pulled in her absence. The Bar is as good a place as any to get away from that before she tries baking again, as she knows her mood isn't really safe in the kitchens.

dust-to-order.livejournal.com

((millitimed to last night, during the meeting thread in

shadowsfound's post))))

Dust leaves notes for three people. She hasn't seen Rachel in some time, but
thinks it can't hurt to try. There's the fact that she misses her friend, too, and would like to hear something back.

( for Caitlin Fairchild )

( for Lt.Muldoon )

( for Rachel )

The notes are left with Bar before she heads upstairs.

followfootsteps.livejournal.com

( This entrance post contains spoilers for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. )

[Note: And I'm going to get some sleep, so slowtime, and I'll pick up threads tomorrow.]

stubborn-annie.livejournal.com

The beauty of being the owner of a business where you trust your employees' competence is that you don't always have to be the one to open up in the morning. At some businesses this isn't such a big thing, but when you operate a bakery you've got to have fresh goods there and ready to go the instant you unlock the front door. Annie's never been fond of rising before dawn- she'll do it, but she's not fond of it- so she's awfully grateful for Junia being on the early morning shift all this week. Especially since it means she can slip off to Milliways, just as she has now, and get herself a cup of tea well away from the ongoing bad-weather repairs back home. Company would probably not be taken amiss.

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

Yesterday was so much less than ideal that Wells didn't bother going home. He left a note with the Bar for Annie saying that he'd be back as soon as he could manage, and he stayed in the room upstairs for as long as he could. Which didn't last long this morning, because the full moon begins in seven days, and that means he's got to be outside if he doesn't want to feel like the walls are pressing in on him from every conceivable angle. He got himself to the Academy all right and got through classes without giving any of the girls too much grief, but the instant his classes were over he turned around and came straight back to Milliways- and then went straight out the back door.

Laps around the lake are not his ideal means of improving his time over the sixteen hundred meters, but they'll do. He's got a lot to run to ground today, and he did tell Spoon that he needed to start running in armour again to get the feel of it once more. At least the stuff is still mottled greys and blacks from the camo paint job he did before the battle with the Cybermen.

dust-to-order.livejournal.com

Sooraya's in!
She's at a table near the karaoke machine, shiny Security badge and all.

She has tea, and a book, but peoplewatching gets most of her attention. She'll pause occasionally to drink or skim the pages.

indie-cine.livejournal.com

[OOM: The movie, she is done!]

EXT. DELANCEY ST., LOWER EAST SIDE, NYC - NIGHT

Super-Indie Filmmaker NICK REVE, with two reels of FILM and a red spiral-bound NOTEBOOK tucked securely under his arm, steps out of a CAB. Dressed all in BLACK - black jeans, black boots, a black leather jacket, and several layers of black shirts to keep out the cold, he enters a building.

INT. BUILDING STAIRWELL

Nick trudges up the five flights of STAIRS to his apartment. He fumbles for his KEYS. He opens the DOOR. He goes inside.

INT. MILLIWAYS BAR

NICK
(gaping)
What the hell...?!

[OOC: Slowtimes are in effect.]

panser-bjorn.livejournal.com

(OOM: Of how Iorek Byrnison took a wrong turn to the End of the Universe. Warning: Very mild spoilers for Northern Lights. No, really, I kept the post small so the spoilers are minimal. )

He just stepped through what looked like a stone arch, half of it natural and the other half made from carefully-hewn masonry. For a moment a corridor of the same stone was visible behind him. Then both arch and corridor were gone, right before he stood on his hind legs with alarming speed and turned around to face... The wall of Milliways. Slowly, the massive head is tilted as a huge paw raises to touch the wall with surprising gentleness. This curiosity, this determined, definite sentience... This is no common polar bear (if the close-fitting armor made of black iron wasn't a dead giveaway).

Carefully he lifts his paw to the base of his neck and undoes the straps and buckles holding the headplate of his armor. Maybe... Maybe Iofur got one good strike in, and he didn't realize. He has heard of head-wounds like that. Not showing until, a few days from the blow, you start seeing things that aren't there. He removes the armored plate and holds it in one fairly nimble paw, while the other carefully touches the back and top of his skull, then the sides. And all the time he remains oddly, almost eerily silent.

(OOC: Come welcome Iorek Byrnison into Milliways, please! He doesn't bite. Unless provoked.)
(OOC 2, the Son of OOC: Mun is currently grabbing a ride back home, which will take between half and one hour. Will tag back as soon as I get settled back home. Thanks for the welcome tags, people!)
(OOC 3, the Return of the Son of the Daughter of OOC Strikes Back: And since it's past midnight here and I'll be dragged off bed early tomorrow to do family-y things, I'm afraid I must be retiring for the night. Will tag back tomorrow! Honest!)

ltmuldoon.livejournal.com

In the Alphabet of Milliways, D stands for Disgruntled, which applies frequently to various patrons and various other members of the bar's clientele. It's a frequently used label.

So when the bar door opens to reveal an airport and a figure dressed all in black wielding a military issue duffel and a very uncomfortable look on his face, the mun invites you to use this label liberally.

Christopher Muldoon did not think it would be this hard. He was warned yes, but...well...he took it with a grain of salt. upon realizing however that the terminal has turned into the bar-his face melts into a confused expression.

"...You'd better turn back before my flight." He mutters, "....But thanks."

Crowd too many people into an area and it's bound to get even the most average werewolf upset.

alorn-bear.livejournal.com

Belar has a table by the fire and a specially reinforced chair that's rigged up to keep him from falling over backwards despite having both feet up on the table as he leans wayyyyy too far back to be really healthy. Why? BECAUSE HE CAN. Some days it does not take much to amuse the Bear God, and this is one of them.

The sign on his table says:

ANSWERING PRAYERS
BACK IN 15 MINUTES
WILL START SECURITY SHIFT THEN

And the time on the sign decrements every ten seconds or so.

dust-to-order.livejournal.com

Sooraya's downstairs.
She looks toward the Front Door, her back stiffening.
Right. Okay,

She goes to Bar and leaves several messages, before she deliberately says, "Tomorrow,early, then," and heads for the back door.
( For Rachel )

( for Caitlin )

( for Muldoon )

( for Archie Kennedy )

( for basically anyone else who'd wonder/notice her absence from the bar )

Current Mood: contemplative

ltmuldoon.livejournal.com

[OOM: Secret's Out.].

When the door opens to sun and sand and desert, it hangs there for a few moments. That's before the man looking much older then his 50 some years staggers through. There's a definite smell about him that anyone who's ever been in the thick of battle will recognize.

The relief on the man's face is palpable as he slinks off to a booth and stares at various and sundry patrons. Here at least, he's safe.

Well, as safe as he can be.

....Never had any damn luck Muldoon manages to think Never did.