milliways_bar | Entries tagged with random lyrae dent

notsoharmless.livejournal.com

It's been a long stretch in life for Random Dent, who has gone by quite a many names by now, and is called many many different things by many many different people, and has been the epitome of angsty teenager, the troubled girl with the Electra complex, the mad musician, the calculated killer, and now?

Well, stepping into Milliways today, she's very clearly Lady Ranaide of Antar, governor of one of the planet's three moons.

(The second from left, if you're looking at a photograph.)

And she's been the young, recently-appointed governor for a while, now. She's surprisingly not particularly bad at it, either, though quite a bit of that may have come from being friends with Valentine Wiggin-Skywalker starting at a very young age.

She's gotten tired of being a politican, though, and leans against the bar and scribbles an order on a piece of her everpresent notepad paper, placing it on Bar's surface and half-smiling when she gets a tea and a few cookies, relaxing against the stool and just ... eating.

Relaxing.

Things have been busy.

She hasn't had a break in what may very well have actually been a month, and the sudden appearance of Milliways probably helped with the mindset that she might need one. It's sometimes just time to be a teenage-ish girl instead of someone with a long series of responsibilities, responsible for the end of several consecutive worlds before the age of fifteen or not.

thelastearthman.livejournal.com

Arthur's been around. Honestly. He's just... rather disturbingly inconspicuous.

Regardless, he's here now, in a booth near the window with a fresh pot of tea and a newspaper. Have at.

Current Mood: mellow

faithful-slayer.livejournal.com

Faith's in the bar.

She's still blue.

mctrillian.livejournal.com

In from some very cold planet, both wearing long, thick velvet coats come a mother and her teenage-ish daughter, bracing themselves in the doorway in reaction to the earthquakes, then exchanging glances.

Neither seems preturbed too much, and so, using each other as support, walk to a table rather in the middle of the bar, as not only do they not care who talks to them, but mother Trillian will happily talk back, and daughter Random will offer facial expressions as to suit the mood.

"Hot soup?" Trillian offers her daughter, who smiles thinly.

"Yes, I agree," she continues. "One for each of us. Good girl. Have your flute? Good, I'd hate to have left it there."

Another thin smile, and a nod.

And then soup.

blue_ajah

The day before, she had received some difficult news. Then, earlier tonight, something had happened that had disturbed her even within the confines of her shielded study.

When she glides downstairs into the bar for the evening, her outward composure is serene and unbroken, as usual-- but the expression in the dark eyes is shadowed and almost unfathomable.

Soon afterwards, Moiraine is settled at her usual table, with a pot of tea near to hand. It is mostly untouched, as she seems to be paying much more attention to the notes she is sorting and the list she is writing as a result.

prone-to-panic.livejournal.com

It is a tired-looking but generally happy trio, (plus a monkey) that steps from the faintly glowing portal in the corner into the bar, shoving a pile of luggage. Beyond them, and before the portal closes, a dimly lit interior of what looks like a ship's cabin can be seen, and perhaps the face of a certain pirate, before the younger of the men shouts and the monkey jumps back through the closing portal. He seems to be the only one of the three that doesn't look mildly relieved. Wistful smiles watch the pirate running off in hot persuit of the monkey as the shining portal finally vanishes completely, and the three turn to gather their things and take them back to their respective rooms.

Welcome back to Milliways Archie, Svava, and Wellard.

((OOC: Three pups, two muns, tag at will.))

prince-arithon.livejournal.com

One tired little Master of Shadows, tucked into a corner and dozing lightly. He'll wake up if someone comes close, he doesn't sleep well and wouldn't dare sleep deeply in public, but for now? Dozing.

Every now and then he starts awake and glances around as though looking for people.

mctrillian.livejournal.com

( Acting for the first time as a mother-daughter team EVER, our heroines help the Sub-Etha network track down minor celebrity Lue Farinelli, who's been dodging interviews ever since an attack on her Speedster. )

politestpirate.livejournal.com

For her fortune-telling class, Elda has decided perhaps to go with astrology. (There is such a thing as drinking too much tea- at least when you are drinking it only for getting tea leaves.) However, to read the future in the stars, one must be able to read the stars, and plot their courses-

So, Elda and Wellard are outside tonight, a little ways from the bar. They commandeered a table to hold a red-shaded lantern, a couple star charts, and Elda's notebooks and homework. There is also a telescope set up, but at the moment, the young midshipman is showing the griffin how to measure the angle of altitude on Altair in the Aquila constellation.

Two characters, two muns. Ping both together or separate, and feel free to ping others who are out to see what the two are doing!

rebelheartalien.livejournal.com

The door opens and a familiar face comes in... but for the time being, it's not Michael Guerin in the driving seat.

By mutual consent between him and Michael, Rath of Antar has just come to Milliways as more than just a passenger.

Have at.

faithful-slayer.livejournal.com

Faith!

Pianopost, because it's been a while!

Sabre Dance, because a song with a sword in the title would, of course, suit her.

notsoharmless.livejournal.com

We're afraid that there is no precedent for this entrance post, as no one expected this particular character to perk up at this particular, not-angsty, frustration-free and angerless moment. She was not in such a silent mood, though generally she tends to be silent unless asked a direct question, and only then will she manage to find just the right way to actually answer it.

Thusly, this post and ensuing threads may be as jumpy in narrative and topic and self-referential as her canon. The management is terribly sorry, but Random Frequent Flyer Lyrae Dent, also called Annabel or Azia or sometimes aur, (all lowercase, italics neccessary even in speech) steps through the door of Antar tinted blue, yet the glamour has worn off by the moment she's found herself, her harp and her numerous composition books (of the musical variety) a seat.

It's a different blanket than her usual cape.

Apparently she's been somewhere rather cold.*

* You didn't honestly expect the narration to tell you everything, did you?

shelley_winters

[OOM: Ishamael releases Shelley for a few days, but not before taking precautions.]

Shelley had really wanted, first of all, to collapse onto her bed and cry with both relief and the knowledge that she has to go back when she stepped through the portal and it closed behind her. But that would have been a waste of good free time - time in which she's actually free, she thinks bitterly. So she simply takes a few minutes to change into a more normal top, before running quietly down the stairs into the main bar.

After a brief thought, she stops off at the bar before going straight to Antar, ordering a large glass of wine. She has the distinct need to be drunk, and Antarian alcohol is weak even by her standards.

She'll be here a while before going through to Antar, if anyone wants a chat. Or, you know, to ask her why she's drinking so earnestly.

http://users.livejournal.com/_mother_dearest/

Milliways was, for the most part, a place of simple pleasures for Lyrae Addam. She would sit and read by the fire, often with tea, sometimes with wine. Today was one of the latter, while she continued reading her book of biographies. She was most of the way through it.

It was a pleasant on the whole.

shelley_winters

[OOM: A Wind Dies.]

Out in the woods, a thin line of light brightens and widens into a shining portal from another age (called the Second Age by some) to reveal five women - the soft light of saidar brightening into existence around two of them as they step through.

One swiftly, eager to return. One slowly, leaning on a cane. One barely able to stand, but under the watchful eyes of a fourth. The last almost with a show of reluctance, fear not conquered by the sight of sanctuary.

Kim Bauer, Nita Callahan, Trillian Astra, Shelley Winters, and Random Frequent Flyer Lyrae Annabel Dent called Astoreth - but what's in a name? - walk through the trees.

[OOC: Adiva and Nita are not actually here, but handwaving is in all it's wonderful effect. Shelley, Kim and Trillian will each have their own subthread to be tagged - tagging Astoreth is possibly not advisable, as she is incoherent, dependent on the technically absent Nita, and also still homicidal under stress. Thank you all very very much.]

always-a-liar.livejournal.com

Canto VII: The Dark Dominion

Movement Four: From the Father of Storms

[OOC: Warning for some graphic violence, mild sexual themes, mild gore, and large amounts of Doom.]

always-a-liar.livejournal.com

Canto VII: The Dark Dominion

Movement Two: A Flash of Lightning

[OOC: Warning for... less objectionable material than usual, but still dark psychological themes, violent themes, mild implied sexual themes, and general creepiness, doom, and woe.]

always-a-liar.livejournal.com

Out of Milliways:

Canto V: The Unforgiven

always-a-liar.livejournal.com

Out of Milliways:

Canto III: The Lord of the Flies

always-a-liar.livejournal.com

Out of Milliways:

Canto II: The Fallen

always-a-liar.livejournal.com

Out of Milliways:

Canto I: The Pieces

nita_callahan

Sundays are good. Sundays are quiet.

Nita should probably be doing homework, same as her mun, but instead she's wandering by the lakeside, skipping rocks, and thinking.

~~Gratuitous Icon Post? What are you talking about?~~

notsoharmless.livejournal.com

The youngest Dent is in the bar, reading in her armchair.

For once, no harp. Just a book.

She's astonishingly bored-looking.

notsoharmless.livejournal.com

At a corner table, a young girl by the name of Dent and a small boy by the name of Addam sit -- Lyrae Dent, as she is now, not comfortably in her usual armchair with her cape, but sitting with Joar.

Who she does still quite consistently believe is her son, and he's got no reason to think she isn't really his mother (just acting very strangely).

He had bad dreams last night, so she's gotten them ice cream.

Logic: Nice-tasting things solve problems.

Temporarily.

They're probably discussing music.