milliways_bar | Entries tagged with raspberry

precocioustilda.livejournal.com

Matilda has an armchair by the fire, a mug of hot chocolate, and a copy of Beowulf in the original Anglo-Saxon. By her standards this counts as non-academic relaxation. Do say hello.

Jhalak is hanging from the rafters by one arm, surveying the bar with two eyes, the remaining two arms tucked close to its body. It's not sure it likes being away from Ray for this long, but it would be delighted to make your acquaintance nonetheless.

Logan is parked at a table with a coffee, lost in thought. Come distract him from his unpleasant daydreams.

Aaron found himself a booth with a good view of the bar at large and is sitting with the back of said booth between himself and the Window, watching all the people. He'd sure love some company.

Raz has discovered an unforeseen fondness for cream soda. Catch her sitting on (not at) a table by the door, blowing fizzy pink bubbles and giggling to herself.

[tiny tags: Jhalak, Aaron Stampler]

berryberryraz.livejournal.com

The translucent pink woman who bounds through the front door of Milliways is very precariously wearing a white men's button-down shirt as a makeshift dress.

How do you wear a shirt very precariously?

Well, there's a technical definition involving the likelihood that at any moment it will slip to the side and earn her some time in the cells for public nudity, but mostly you just have to be Raspberry.

When she sees the bar she grins maniacally, throws up her arms, and shouts:

"Awesome!"

Then she heads for Bar to order some booze.

Thank narrative causality for the fact that her shirt stays firmly in place the whole time.

watching_you

Veronica's in the bar, though you'd be hard-pressed to find her.

She's under a table.

Considering that:

Her disguise has most likely been compromised (yeah, thanks, Elle); and
Some sort of electrically-based hit has been taken out on herself and friends (Elle again)...

Well, she's decided to lay low for a while. Literally.

With her back up against the lower part of this booth's back bench and her legs crossed in front of her, Veronica does have a spectacular view of the bar's collection of ankles. It's a bit difficult to eat her sandwich under here, but one cramped meal is a fair sacrifice in exchange for her safety.

And if she gets bored, she can count the dried blobs of gum.

[tinytags: assassin ; eric o'grady]

lissla-lissar.livejournal.com

Lissar checks to be certain that Ace is not around. Then she enters the bar with a catalog under one arm and announces to the room at large, "I am setting up Ace's Hen's Night. I am entirely asexual. I need assistance in choosing appropriate party-games." and sets the catalog down on the table.

Lissar is brilliant, brilliant red.

berryberryraz.livejournal.com

So the thing is, it's damn near impossible for a goo girl to conceal a watergun about her person. She would probably have to wear actual clothes, and that's just right out.

Therefore, there's a woman made of raspberry Jell-O sitting out by the lake, scooping up lake water and firing it back out with her hands shaped into little pistols. And since she is a goo girl, that means that there are actual replicas of that water-gun on the ends of her wrists.

If anyone asks, she's bored and entertaining herself while she waits for someone interesting (i.e. hot) to appear. Hey, this is Raz. It's true, games aside.

[tinytag: assassin]

viridian-hue.livejournal.com

One Isaac Mendez, in the Bar, at a table by himself, staring down a glass of whiskey like he's in a staring contest and he's in it to win it.

Or he's got the blind stares. Take your pick.

But he's covered in paint (as usual), a little scruffy (as usual), and a sketchbook and pen laying next to him, open to a half-filled page (as usual), all these things graceful constants even if he has been anything but. Being here, as he is, it sort of sucks the sense of urgency out of things. But he's good at lost days, lost time. King of it, really.

Regardless, he's here. That's enough for the moment. Especially since there's alcohol and the sound of human voices around him, warmth, light, colour. It's enough.

berryberryraz.livejournal.com

Well.

Goo girl at the bar, folks.

No drink. Big smile.

Three guesses what she's after and the first two don't count.

Bother at will, especially if you're pretty.

[tinytag: assassin]

always-okay.livejournal.com

The door slides open, and X5-494 loses the game of expectations.

See, 494 had every reason to believe that when the door opened, he would be admitted to his bunk. It happened every other time in his life this door had opened. This is not his bunk, though. And Manticore is capable of many things (he's evidence enough of that), but even this is surprising.

494 steps through cautiously, assessing his new surroundings. He's never been on a training simulation on this scale before. He can only assume that this is one more test before the day's work is done.

His objective is clear enough. Simple recon job, right? So he tries to act natural about it.

It doesn't work. It stops working the moment he prowls in on high alert.

[tinytag: x5-494 (alec), demeter. see here for handling instructions. 2:19 AM slowtimes in effect. <33333!]

river_meimei

The door opens before River; she doesn't touch the handle, nor push. (On Serenity's side, this doorway is an open arch between hall and kitchen, the sliding doors recessed into the wall as they nearly always are.) Her fingers drift over the doorframe, the smooth sudden transition between metal and hardwood, as she steps through.

The floor of the bar is awash in water, ankle deep and skin-warm. Her bare feet make soft plashes with each step, and ripples spread.

[OOC: No, there is no actual water; this is an Objects in Space-style post. See the back room post for details, and then come play if you like!]

[Tiny tags: the Pirate King, Bert, Takeru Takaishi, Oz, Charlie Crews, Captain Jack Harkness (1941), Monica Dawson, Jay Gatsby, Cavilo, Shepherd]

bloody-awful.livejournal.com

John comes downstairs. He's around. Perhaps he'll run in to you.

berryberryraz.livejournal.com

( This is the EP of a character taken from Internet porn. I make no apologies for the fact that it's slightly racy (to the tune of cursing and mild, circumspectly described nudity). Don't worry, she obeys the rules as soon as she remembers them. )

bloody-awful.livejournal.com

So this bloke walks into the bar, adjusting the flies of his trousers like he's just had a slash. He pauses for a second, then his face breaks out in a big grin.

He walks over to the Bar and says, "Hello, sweetheart. Couldn't do without me? I'll have the usual, then."

On the Bar appears a note. He picks it up and reads it. "Aw, and here I thought you just wanted the pleasure of my company. What's in it for me, then?"

Another note appears, along with a pre-moistened towelette. Ignoring the towelette, he reads the second note and grimaces. "Christ, there's no need to get cranky about it, sweetheart." Sighing, he rips open the towelette packet and uses it to wash his hands, and walks around behind the Bar. After a moment's thought, he writes on the blackboard:

Specials
Guinness
Bushmill's
Anything not from Earth. Any Earth.

On the Bar appears a perfectly poured pint, a double shot of whiskey and an ashtray.

He knocks back the shot, lights a smoke, and leans against the Bar with a smirk.

It's Happy Hour, kiddies. Come and let Uncle Johnny pull yer pint.

-------------
ETA: I'm closing up threads now and will be heading out in a few. Slowtime is love!

berryberryraz.livejournal.com

Raspberry's at the bar, drinking cheap beer and grinning to herself. Strike up a conversation! Or just walk by and get hit on. She's good either way.

[And yes, this post is totally because of this meme. Now's your chance, lads 'n lasses!]

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.

torch-reporter.livejournal.com

With Clark still Bound, Chloe's found herself a pretty permanent resident of Milliways lately, not trusting her best friend to stay out of trouble without her. It totally has its perks though: quality time with boyfriend, interviews with waitrats, and getting to watch all the other weirdness that only a bar at the end of the universe can provide.

Tonight, though, Chloe has found herself downstairs at a table, cup of latte beside her as she types away on her laptop. It's not really a surprise, is it?

berryberryraz.livejournal.com

Raspberry has been around. You just haven't seen her. It's funny how that works.

Now, however, she's being extraordinarily visible outside the bar sunning herself on a rock. Her favourite rock, to be exact. It's a large, comfortable-looking rock, as rocks go. She looks like she wouldn't be displeased to entertain some company upon it.

berryberryraz.livejournal.com

Delicate Flower
At the Bar in haiku mode:
It's a Raspberry!

hero_farmboy

In order to stave off boredom, Clark has decided to get ambitious. Well, as ambitious as he feels like getting around here. He asked the bar for a few footballs (the American kind), a bit of netting and a fair sized hoop.

It didn't take long to rig up outside - hang the hoop from a tree and the netting behind the hoop - and for the past little while, he's been perfectly content tossing aforementioned footballs through the hoop from a good distance.

Clark almost forgot how much he missed this.

no-sin-but.livejournal.com

So, a one-eyed man walks into a bar.

And, no, he doesn't say 'ow', because it's not that kind of bar and weren't you paying attention?

But, he walks into a bar. Neither tall nor short, but he's dressed in black clothes that, once upon a time, were nice. But now the velvet is worn and stained and, really, the one-eyed man needs a bath. Or two. And new clothes.

For the moment, though, he stands in the doorway, swaying slightly, and looking rather...

bemused.

[ooc: and I love you all but I have to run home, am happy to do slowtimes or fade!]

carefulwishes.livejournal.com

Eden enters the bar, in a full-body black leather outfit that screams 'spy'. She blinks a few times, then chuckles.

Unlike the last two times she was here, she doesn't immediately rush out of the bar. Instead, she takes a table close to the Door. She's done her job and, thanks to a great deal of help from the Haitian, it went well: she captured one of the most dangerous men in her universe.

It kinda makes a girl want to celebrate. (Well, yes, there's still guilt issues and dying issues and daddy issues, but Eden is forcing herself to forget those plzkthnx.)

"Hey there, waitrat!" Eden calls, already beginning to people-watch the bar. "I want something amazing. And expensive. Like...." Eden hasn't eaten fancy in a while.

Maybe someone could give her some suggestions!

berryberryraz.livejournal.com

Raspberry at bar,
being Delicate Flower;
talk to her, Bar-lings!

not-a-wizard.livejournal.com

Telemain enters, looking rather like he was hoping to more go downstairs to breakfast than to the bar. Instead of his usual clothes, today he's in grey leggings, and a long, loose shirt. He does not have his vest. He's in soft shoes that look somewhat like house slippers instead of his usual high boots. He's currently putting on his belt.

He looks very alarmed to see the bar.

humanfridge.livejournal.com

Look who's come downstairs with his tail between his legs!

That's right folks: for the first time since he got his memory back, David Berman is lurking at a table, picking at a plate of chicken korma and willing the front door to reappear.

Please ignore the fact that he's keeping his head down. Noooo friendly Jell-o girls he's trying to avoid, none at all! What do you mean, pink cheeks? You're obviously imagining things. Yes.

creator_raven

There is a short, sturdy woman settling into a chair in front of the fire.

She has tea.

She has cookies.

She has an incredibly mischievous sparkle in her bright black eyes.

Some things are not so much for changing.

But, of course, there are some things that change all the time.

It is tricky.

So is she.

It is a thing about Raven.

berryberryraz.livejournal.com

Raspberry's at the bar, casing for customers. You never know when someone will show up in need of a Delicate Flower.

On the other hand, this being Raz, she's also casing for company of the non-transactional variety. Again, you never know when someone will show up.