milliways_bar | Entries tagged with nick sayre

He has no idea what day it is, nor of how very long it's been since he was in Milliways. Time does strange things, sometimes, the more so when one's near distorting fields and magical powers...

... not that Nick Sayre is aware of either. Not at the moment.

What he is aware of is that Dorrance is a snake of the worst sort, and that he has absolutely less than no interest in being caught in any of the man's traps. All he has to do is make it through the dinner intact. Surely that won't be too hard?

When he opens his closet, however, and sees the door to Milliways inside it, Nick wastes no time in darting through. He reaches the bar with the intent of leaving a note for Sameth, and blinks in astonishment at the screen that confronts him.

Hello! Welcome to Milliways. Today, Milliways marks the Cybertronian holiday of Cubefall, the anniversary of the day upon which the Allspark first landed on the rocky world that would become Cybertron. Would you like to sample some possible reconfigurations? (Y/N)

"Brilliant," he breathes, and stabs the Y option without a second's thought.

There's a quick flash of conversion, and then Nick Sayre speaks again, in a decidedly more robotic tone of delight:

"Bloody BRILLIANT!"

wordofa_sayre

[OOC: Meanwhile, back in Ancelstierre...

"You can't expect me to spy on my friends!"

]

wordofa_sayre

[OOM: Nick and Sameth spend some time catching up after certain recent musical events. Plans are made, information exchanged, and a good deal goes without saying, as usual.

(Millitimed to somewhere early in Slenderplot.)]

hadyougoing

If Ava were to star in a Nancy Drew novel about this exact moment in her afterlife, that novel would be called The Mystery of the Missing Angel.

But that's only because Nancy Drew novels tend not to have words like freaking and stupid in their titles.

Having scoured the library as far as seemed a) productive and b) wise, Ava decided to forget the whole thing. But she hasn't seen the angel around since, and considering Ava runs into Ambriel when she's not looking for her, this absence when she is looking for her is ... not great.

She picks a table by the Observation Window that affords her a decent strategic view of the bar at large, orders a coffee with cream and sugar, and puts on her very best poker face.

Demongirl last seen in the company of an angel? What?

She has no idea what you're talking about.

wordofa_sayre

The door opens a bare crack, letting through the sound of voices raised in anger.

"Uncle Edward, I am going back to the Old Kingdom, and I don't care what either you or Father has to say about it--"

"Nicholas, I am tired of having this argument with you. We will discuss it further after we return from Dorrance's house party, but for now I don't want to hear another word."

"Fine!"

He storms through the door, slamming it shut behind him, then stops dead in his tracks, staring at the room in front of him.

"... brilliant," Nick Sayre breathes, and a sudden grin wreathes his face.

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Specials:

Deep Strike
(Jägermeister and Cinnamon Schnapps)
The Monolith
(Gin, Lime Juice, Vermouth)
Just As Planned
(Frozen Cuervo Margarita with Blue Curacao)
Promethium
(Tequila and Bhut Jolokia Hot Sauce)
The Greater Good
(Club Soda)

Don't Look At Me Like That
I Found A Page In The Book Of Recipes That Looked Interesting

... hey, if you'd spent as long today studying how to build and operate radio towers capable of signaling ships in orbit, you'd take the first opportunity to think of something else that came along too.

howarewefortime

iiiiiii

nnnnnn

nnnnggggg

gggggggggg

The light recedes.

The free-fall stops.

Gravity returns with a

none

too

gentle

JOLT

The sky is blue again - or as blue as it gets in Scotland in February, at any rate. The Darkgate is gone. The crack is gone. The monsters, both living and fallen, have been spirited away like breath misting in the cold spring air; the only sign that there was ever a battle at all is the churned-up earth of the field and the faint, lingering scent of ozone.

(There are still bodies, lying here and there in the dirt. But suddenly, slowly, they're beginning to pick themselves up.)

Indoors is an almighty mess, glass and furniture and patrons strewn every which way. But though the pictures hang lopsided and the rafters might be all the better for a few new reinforcements, the structure itself seems sound. The centre is holding.

From the stables, there comes the gentle whickering of horses.

In the beginning, it was a nice day.

howarewefortime

T H I N G S F A L L A P A R T

T H E C E N T R E C A N N O T H O L D

howarewefortime

In the beginning, it was a nice day.

This is a word which here means 'pleasing', 'agreeable', or 'delightful', so it may come as a surprise to you, dear reader, to hear the day described as such, given the situation in Milliways these past two weeks. But then, 'nice' is such a relative term, don't you agree? And certainly it would be difficult for things to get much worse.

So it is: the unnatural winter outside seems a touch less chilling today, and the blood-red sky perhaps a shade less bloody, reflecting pinkly off the glittering frost and the shallow snowbanks. The general atmosphere inside the bar is a little less oppressive - a mood helped, no doubt, by the fact that this morning, Bar got almost every coffee order right. Even the Observation Window seems to be creaking a tad less oppressively.

Maybe, just maybe, everything's going to work out okay.

[OOC: Millitimed to Thursday.]

makesthings

The fabric of reality feels weak to Sam and he's been spending every day, fully prepared as Wallmaker and walking and exploring. He doesn't know the right spells to understand and see what's changing.

Instead he has to rely on the little he knows as Wallmaker and his own knowledge of the Charter to try and understand. Currently he's standing near one of the walls, trying to find one of the points of wrong to focus on.

When the lady in grey walks through the door, his hand moves to his sword hilt and stays there. This is the kind of thing he's meant to know how to stop, how to mend, and he doesn't know how.

(OOC: All threads are before Nick's.)

wordofa_sayre

[OOM:
Sickness and secrets often go hand in hand.

Some are more dangerous than others.

]

anchor-branded.livejournal.com

For this visit, Joris hardly looks (or acts) as if he is playing hooky as he enters in through the front door. He and Konstam just finished up a job, and while Konstam gets to deal with all the official paperwork and reports, Joris is free to walk the Bounds and pay a visit to the End of the Universe. (Sometimes it is nice to be the trainee and have a limit on your responsibilities!) Of course, Joris' first priority here at Milliways is not getting a drink- as soon as the teen arrives, (quickly turning off the scanner in his hands), he is looking around the room to see if he spots any of his friends here.

Even post-job, his white uniform is spotless and in near-pristine condition. (But that is the magic of canon.) As for the young demon hunter, his hair is still damp from the shower he just took. That covers 'spotless'. As for 'one piece', he's fine, though there are a couple of butterfly-bandages on his left temple. They go with the just-starting bruise on the accompanying cheekbone- but that's the job, and you should see the other ~~guy~~ demon.

makesthings

Bridgette's mechanical dog is pretty much finished so Sameth has time to think again about the question of how to take down demons for Sam Winchester.

He's remembered how easy it is to put marks of accuracy and such onto things and so something should be possible. The spells for destruction and unraveling would help, the question is more would they work against something from another world.

As he's thinking, Sameth is going through his sword work, he knows he's fallen behind, he has been practicing but without Jall Oren and sparring with the guards everyday, he's just out of practice.

So he can be found not far from the forge with a practice sword with his shirt sleeves tied up showing the burn scars on his wrists as he works.

(OOC: Open until it scrolls and he can be found either in the forge or outside with his sword.)

makesthings

OOM: When you've lived, played and fought together, the End of the Universe becomes just another thing to find your way through together.

2020sight

It's a familiar tableaux: one Titan, at a table, with his boots up on a chair, a guitar in his lap, and a glass of alcohol on the table. (Beer, for a change of pace -- Mythos.)

Tonight, he's picking a rather bluesy version of "Born to Be Wild" on the guitar, and looking a little dustier than usual.

wordofa_sayre

[OOM: One letter, posted in good condition from Ancelstierre across the Wall in care of the Consul at Bain:

To Prince Sameth, Belisaere, the Old Kingdom.

It arrives in tattered pieces
wrapped in a packet for safekeeping, but it does arrive. Eventually.]

Tiny Tag: Nick Sayre

thursdays_angel

Castiel has never heard the ditty, One of these things is not like the other, one of these things is not the same.

If he had, he might apply it now.

Castiel had visited the Milliways library for the sake of doing more research into the culinary arts. After the disaster with the Easy Bake Oven, it would seem that some study is in order. He had come down to the bar with an armload of volumes. All the big names – Julia Child, Betty Crocker, Better Homes and Gardens.

And the one that is currently absorbing his attention.

The Anarchist Cookbook.

Intriguing recipes, but the title is somewhat misleading.

[OOC: The mun is off to fall into bed, but will pick up tags over the weekend.

young_tmriddle

Tom does actually pop round to Milliways more often than it would seem. He's just quiet about it. Yes, that's it. He's stealthy!

In any case, he's here tonight, relaxing by the fire. He's reading last week's New York Wizarding Times; he hasn't had time until now. The front page features moving pictures of the recent gnome infestation in Central Park.

It was a slow news week, clearly.

winter_arrows

[OOM: 'Cold-hearted bitch' is right there in her job description. Warnings for being the cheeriest freezing-to-death story this side of Jack London.]

Skaði is pale as usual and picking stray twigs out of her hair, when she returns to the bar from outside--and dressed as usual too, barefoot, in jeans and a faded sweater. It's been another day of work, such as it is, and all she really wants is a good strong drink.

The kind of drink she really wants, she can't get here, but she'll make do. Highly botherable.

[Open all weekend. If you want to chat with her before the hunt, now's your chance!]

wordofa_sayre

[OOM: Immediately before.]

Nick comes bounding through the door and jerks to a halt, staring around him.

Anyone who's had the chance to watch newcomers on their first arrival at Milliways might well expect to see surprise, disbelief, or perhaps even anger or fear.

In this case, the young blond man standing in the middle of the floor certainly looks surprised, but only at first. Mere seconds later, an exuberant grin splits his face, and Nick Sayre crows aloud in delight.

"Brilliant!"

Without hesitation, he promptly makes a beeline straight for the Observation Window.

tinytag: Nick Sayre

hear_the_voices

Anna has cake.

This is good.

Anna has a book entitled Fifty Nifty Science Fair Projects.

This is also good.

Anna has a pad for taking notes and writing down Ideas.

This, too, good.

Anna has forgotten to get a pencil.

This is . . . not good.

makesthings

[OOM: Before the Dead attacked:

When two young men set themselves to cause mischief in search of education, all the locks in the world will prove no impediment.
A Somersby Boy
by the Honorable Harold Peabody Class of '07

Tiny tag: Nick Sayre
(OOC: This happened before Sameth found Milliways and before the beginning of Lirael, sadly no copies of A Somersby Boy exist for I know that I'd read it.)