milliways_bar | Entries tagged with ravin lichvell

healer-neric.livejournal.com

[OOM: Ages and ages ago, Neric and Ravin went to his homeworld to practice gliding, have some glossed-over nookie and save the world, not necessarily in that order. It's finally being posted.]

Today, they are outside curled up under a tree together, reading a book. (Well, Ravin is reading. Neric is mostly looking at the pictures.) It's a beautiful day, so why not?

[ooc: two pups, two muns. Tag one or both. Have at :) ]

ostro_goth

On the lawn outside the back door, somewhere between the benches and the rock garden, there is a Goth lying on his stomach in the deep, fresh, bright green grass. He is leaning on his elbows and reading a book propped up against a stack of two other books, for indeed, it is a trilogy, bound in three volumes as it should be. Curled up on the small of his back is a small grey cat -- not really a kitten any more -- fast asleep, one paw daintily stretched out over the man's bottom, the fluffy tail extending up his spine.

Teja doesn't dare stir (other than to turn a page) so he won't wake little Count from his nap.-

wingsofstrength.livejournal.com

[OOM: Life sucks. And then you don't die, life just continues sucking.

...Kratos idly punches in the pass-code, at last, and pushes open the door to approach the warp pad... ]

...And find himself, stepping into a room distinctly not the transporter room. In an instant his hand flashes to the sword at his side, though he doesn't draw it, and he looks around the bar for a long, slow moment. While not looking immediately violent, he's certainly wary.

Still, there seems to be no immediate threat, and Kratos is too experienced to be overtly paranoid. And if this is in fact a bar, then it should be fairly easy to pick up the information if he simply treats it as a bar. He can tell it isn't Sylvarant--and it certainly isn't Derris-Kharlan, too much life for that--so... reconnaissance is the first step towards applying tactics, strategy, and defense.

So, there is now a six-foot-one, auburn-haired man ~~apparently~~ of about twenty-eight years armed with sword and shield, in dark purple with a swallow-tail cloak, sitting at the bar and looking around with caution. His expression is mostly blank, if alert--but not necessarily hostile. Beyond the sword and outfit, there's nothing immediately obviously... off, about him. ~~Unless you'd like to see what his magical/life energy looks like and can. That's off the charts.~~

"..."

Do welcome Kratos Aurion to the bar. He's not that scary. ...Mostly.

subject-lj-here.livejournal.com

Milliways is a perfect opportunity to regain things people have lost, whether because they don't exist on their world anymore, or because it's something someone of their age or station simply should not do. In Chell's case, the bright yellow box obscuring her face is a consequence of the former: Crayola simply doesn't exist in her world any more, and she misses it. So this morning, she got up bright and early as always to grab the biggest box of crayons she could possibly get from the bar, which is now a whopping 120 crayons.

(If she wouldn't have specified the brand, she could've gotten Milliways-brand, who raises the count to 256.)

Anyone coming down to the bar will see sheets upon sheets of picture-perfect sketches: of her Companion Cube, of her gun, of the landscapes of Pennsylvania and the Catskills. She's working on one of the Observation Window right now.

Botherable!

[Tiny Tag: Chell Johnson (portal)]

theflyingsquirl

Spring has returned, and with it the awakening from hibernation (or, if you prefer, 'seasonal narcolepsy') of one mutant man-squirrel, back to his usual normal-world self. That world is a very different place than it had been when he had gone to sleep--for one thing, his fiancé has taken office as vice president, and he himself is a governor.

He has a mansion. And his own household staff. And a job that he has literally slept through the first couple months of, and nobody has noticed. It might just be the best job any supervillain has ever had, but he doesn't want to just rest on his laurels; he feels energized toward evil, as he always does in the spring.

But evil can wait until after breakfast. He shuffles through the door in his pajamas (with the seal of Pennsylvania embroidered on the pocket) and fuzzy slippers, freshly showered, trailed by three young squirrels.

Highly botherable, if you don't mind parody-evil.

[tiny tags: squirrel]

[ooc: open until it falls off the page]

oftyshalle.livejournal.com

The young man -- eighteen, nineteen at most -- who walks in notices where he is (and, more to the point, where he isn't: his dorm room) immediately, but does nothing more than narrow his eyes for a second. Only after Hari's tapped shut something on his handheld computer does he look up and squint at the bar in general.

He assumes it's a prank of some sort -- he's not exactly popular, after all -- but can't imagine how someone would turn his tiny single-occupancy room into a bar this size.

(Along with unpopular, he's cocky. If he can't figure out something, he doubts anyone else in the Conservatory can.)

The unexpected usually calls for beating the answer out of someone. Only thing is, there are too many targets to choose from.

Hari has to think this over for a few seconds.

[tag: hari michaelson
ooc: open all day; slowtimes likely. ]

seat_five_girl

Ako's got a Pepsi and a book on weaving and, well, she thinks they're onion blossoms. Maybe.

She pauses to turn the page between bites. Apparently they really do have just about everything in the library at Mahora. Who knew?

Tiny Tag: Ako (Negima!)
OOC: Open until there's another one.

seat_five_girl

[Kind of OOM: Ever end up in the bathroom and wish you could climb out a window?]

Ako has had mixed experiences with Milliways so far. She'll just slip out and leave for now.

But, she'll be back. It's to useful to completely abandon.

OOC: Thread in the bathroom is open for non-rescue tags while this is on the front!
Tiny Tag: Ako (Negima!)

bringer_of_fun

Bobby walks into the bar in something of a daze, not realizing that he's not actually in the mansion as he stops, blinking.

His clothes would suggest he had a night on the town, and this hair is ruffles...was he just getting home at two in the morning the day after Valentine's? Then there's that dopey smile...

"Wha? Milliways? But--"

With a shrug, he heads for the bar for some breakfast.

bring_a_sponge

There's a misanthropic growl coming from the direction of the Door, which must mean Agent Zed has graciously accepted the Landlord's invitation to visit Milliways once again.

There are several problems with the previous sentence.

It wasn't an invitation. Zed sure as hell isn't happy to get it. And the words 'gracious' and 'Zed' have no business being in the same sentence.

As for 'misanthropic', that would imply Zed's contempt is reserved only for his fellow humans, when in fact it's freely directed toward pretty much everybody.

The bourbon, though, he's not complaining about that.

mechanicalswans

Even gods sometimes get stuck with airport layovers.

And even gods get bored, and have to resort to overpriced and understocked airport bookshops during those layovers.

Which is all a roundabout way of saying that he had had no idea that Vikings were such a popular topic for romance novels, nor that one had been written about him.

So he is reading, over by the fire, with a look of mingled disdain and fascination. They've got it so wrong, but he still wants to see how it ends.

Which is not to say that he would mind company.

[tinytags: weyland]

[ooc: open until it falls off the page]

prob-japanese.livejournal.com

The elevator- cunningly hidden among a number of interesting pieces of wall paneling- slides open with a noise not unlike the THX sound played backwards. A miniature 2009 Camaro rolls out. (About one-seventh normal scale, mind you. We're not talking matchbox here.) It's playing some cheerfully bubbly Cantopop song, and it continues playing as it rolls over to the Bar, transforms into a five foot tall yellow and chrome robot, and signals for one of those energon preparations Rad offered him once.

Given that Bumblebee has no visible mouth in his robot form, the consumption process may be a little more complicated than one might expect.

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

It hasn't escaped Indy's notice that Mike has been taking quite a few bartending shifts of late. As assistant bar manager, Indy really ought to be pulling his weight as well. So, he's behind the bar this afternoon, fedora in place and a bar towel draped over one shoulder. If there's any reluctance on his part, it doesn't show. His demeanor is cheerful and welcoming.

"Bar's open, folks," he announces. "Don't be shy."

Truth be known, he's missed this.

[tinytags: Dinah Lance, Billy Kaplan, Fiona Glenanne, Maxwell Smart]

docgf.livejournal.com

Doctor Girlfriend has been grabbed into Milliways at an inconvenient moment; she's pushing a shopping cart full of groceries. Chips, dip, soda, frozen hors d'ouerves, all the stuff you need for a high-powered conference between high-powered supervillains.

Well, the hell with it, she could use a break before facing fricking Baron Underbheit. She parks her trolley by a booth, feeling vaguely like a bag lady, and gets a drink. After, Thank God, lighting a cigarette.

(She got Diet Sprite instead of regular by accident; if someone noticed it would probably save her a lot of grief later. Seems unlikely, though.)

cronotriggered.livejournal.com

It's always awkward when the space/time portal you need to hop into is located in someone's kitchen cabinet, even more so when the someone is a Mystic (they don't get along with humans, you see).

But these Mystics are friendly, which is why Crono turns around to give them a cheery wave 'bye' before hopping up into their cabinet.

...Which leads to a bar.

See, this is strange for a number of reasons. The time portal he was aiming for should have dropped him off at the End of Time, which is outside time and space but does not feature a bar. His friends, who had been right beside him just before he entered the cabinet, are now gone.

So Crono is just going to shuffle out of the doorway and look for someone who knows what's going on. Information gathering is the key to fitting in to any new place, after all.

[Open til it falls off the page. (and fair warning: Crono, he don't talk much.)

tiny quiet tag: Crono]

vyvyan

[Millitimed immediately after this.]

There is no glow, nor bamf, nor puff of smoke; but there is a 'boing' noise. And then Vyvyan appears, with a great big bleeding wound in his chest and one of his arms, er, missing.

He drops down onto his knees, holding the area where his arm was, and snarling with anger and pain.

Sure, he can probably grow it back, but he might need a little help...

[tinytag: Vyvyan]

latino_menace

Ramon is in a booth with a bottle of tequila and a laptop. And maps and paper and what looks like a black book full of numbers. Basically, the table is a mess but he's working and that sort of thing happens sometimes.

He's been at it a while, interruptions will quite possibly be welcomed.

lichvell-r.livejournal.com

In the spirit of giving, she went outside last night.

Ravin walked the grounds, noted the flows of mana, examined the structure of the pocket of reality. She did not need to learn how it worked, the mutable nature of the place prevented that.

All she did was feel around the ley lines that hold the place whole, push a bit here, pull a bit there... and it was done.

The snowfall started before midnight and continued gently until morning. Eight inches of a cold white blanket, eighteen inch drifts, the lake frozen very solid: an overcast sky will prevent melting until the natural weather patterns catch up.

A single set of tracks comes from the lakeshore to the back door, where the sorceress came in to go rest in her room.

Merry Christmas, Milliways.

missginnytonic.livejournal.com

Ginny Weasley is sitting in a booth with a pot of tea, a book, and Biscuits. Reading her book she frowns as the story gets deeper. That wasn’t a plot twist she expected closing the book she frowns down at her cup of cold tea and then touches her pot realizing it’s also cold. She reorders and is willing to share both the fresh tea and biscuits.

Ryan Wolfe walks in settling at a table ordering a Coke float with a fish taco and fruit bowl. He’s trying to eat healthier but at times it doesn’t seem he’s doing a good job of it. Putting his phone on the table ignoring the fact it doesn’t work here. He rubs his palms on his jeans then looks around. Eating alone is never fun seeing if any one is around to join him. He’s found food makes new friends easier.

Rodrigo "Rod" Tucci is sitting near the fireplace with his guitar playing softly with a notebook on his knee as he writes down songs. Most of the things he’s written have ended up in the fireplace. Running his hand over his face he doesn’t take the pen out of his hand ending up marking on his nose with our realizing it. Someone is welcome to make fun of him or wipe it off.

{ooc: this multi pup post is open to all. All pups are open and the post is open until forever.]

ostro_goth

Awake at night as so often, Teja had pondered that the notice offering his services was out-dated, so many new things had he learned in the year since he had hung it up. So, in the small hours before dawn, by the light of his oil lamps, he wrote a new one; and when he came down at first light for his tea, he hung it up on the notice-board:

Now, Teja is working in the forge, folding a small billet of silver, copper and bronze at his workbench. To show examples of his work made of folded precious metals, he should have a piece other than the dagger of bronze and silver, made long ago for defence against wolfmen. He is wearing his usual leather forge clothes -- breeches, sleeveless jerkin, heavy leather apron -- but even though the doors are wide open, the blazing forge-fire keeps him warm

The cats are playing in front of the open doors, daring each other to bat at the sprinkle of snow that is still on the ground, then jumping back hastily when they have done so; the forge is open to all comers, friends and strangers, customers and curious, alike.-

[[OOC: Forge post open until it scrolls off the front page!]]

theflyingsquirl

So a mutant man-squirrel walks into the bar, grinning like he'd won the lottery and been awarded an entire year of brand new cars and fabulous prizes, except it's even better.

It's been a busy time, since the election. Interviews, press conferences, sneaking the president-elect out to New Mexico to be fitted for a proper control device; the usual business of politics, he supposes. But for now, it's time to unwind; so here he is, back to jeans and flannel, and with one young squirrel on his shoulder and two more scurrying along after him. Up to the bar they go, for pizza and beer (for him) and a treat of granola (for the squirrels).

Totally botherable.

[tinytags: squirrel]

mallory-grace.livejournal.com

[[ooc: This is just the gathering post before leaving. Check in with your pup, let them meet each other if you want, post their thoughts, whatever. Follow the link to begin threading, though I won't be available to join you until after noon MST.]]

Mallory waits for her 'guests' by the front door, looking forward to the adventure ahead.

[[Tiny tags: Artemis Fowl, Dan Evans, Kate Bishop, Dara Zabo, Yunno Scrya]]

mallory-grace.livejournal.com

[[OOM: In which Ben Winchester visits Mallory Grace’s world. Warnings for ugly puppies, hot moms, faeries, brothers and plotting adventures.]]

Mallory comes into the bar with a note for the notice board that reads:

ADVENTURERS AND TREASURE HUNTERS

Looking for an adventure? Got a strong back? Magic doesn’t freak you out? I am looking for a handful of people to come to my world (Earth, circa 2009 A.D.) in one week for the looting of a (probably) deserted dwarf realm. Any experience in magic and fighting would be useful.. Those interested should see Mallory Grace for details.

[[Tiny tags: Yunno Scrya, Dara of Chaos, Dan Evans]]

burningdancer.livejournal.com

When Mai steps into the Bar through the entrance in her dorm room closet, she's just looking for a way to blow off steam after a hectic day of serving food and drinks to Linden Baum customers (and coping with Akane fidgeting ... honestly, it'd be nice if Akane would just deal with whatever she was so flustered about, it was distracting and it didn't look good to the customers ...).

She doesn't know Milliways well enough to know that even bars at the end of the universe like to observe certain traditions, however short-lived her participation in them might end up being.

So when she steps into the Bar and feels an odd gust of wind ruffle her hair, the first thing she thinks about is 'who left that door open?'

... the second thought that she thinks, however, is probably unrepeatable.

So it is that Sailor Moon stalks over to the Bar, finger waggling in its general direction, face the picture of righteous indignation, and starts tearing into the inanimate object. "I don't know what you're thinking, Bar, but this is not funny! I can't go home looking like this! It's, it's ..." She gestures down, and flicks the edge of her (blue) skirt for emphasis. "This is embarassing! I don't ... do cosplay, anyway, it's kind of gross." If her views on that subject weren't clear enough, she sticks her tongue out briefly just in case. "And I'm not a magical girl, either! So ... take it back!"

She stomps her foot on the floor as though the added physical punch is going to make the Bar listen any more attentively than it was already. It fails.

Her efforts at 'negotiation' having failed miserably, Mai sits - uncomfortably - down right at the Bar, because traversing the tables and having to think about what people must think of her as she walks by is just too much to bear, and fumes.

[ooc: a belated halloween post, delayed by life and schoolwork, but up now, sorry!]

[tiny tags are full of mahou shoujo rage: mai tokiha]

happy_kender

Read this first.

You know it's an interesting thing being a Kender, especially when you are in a town full of humans, and the occasional Dwarf. You happen to be shorter than everyone, almost no one likes you, just because you are a Kender-it's not his fault, he's just a Kender- you probably wouldn't notice the people hating you so much. Everything would be blamed on you, and even your best intentioned action is looked upon as theivary.

Tas walked from the fair grounds of Solace up to the giant Vallenwood tree that harbored the Last Home Inn. It was a nice place, very homely, and very welcoming. Tas started up the long ramp to the Inn. He whistled a Kender tune as he passed other people on the ramp, coming or going. And he was looking forward to ale, food, and a good bed. Tomorrow would be a good day to set out and find more adventure, he told himself, but first he had to meet his new friends, Tanis, and Flint tonight. They wanted to see his maps.

Tas grinned, his maps were his pride and joy. He reached the door of the Inn and took a step in. The door had been propped open with a keg so as to let in some fresh air.

And suddenly was not in the Inn, but was in a strange place that could be an inn, but had technologies that he'd never seen, and creatures.

Tas grinned, this was even more interesting than having his maps looked at.

Did he suddenly end up on one of the moons? If so, how did that happen, he didn't' have that ring anymore, or did he...

*****

For those looking on:

Tasslehoff Burfoot is a Kender. He is about four foot tall. He's got a topknot of brown hair on his head, this is like a beard is to a Dwarf. Now, Tass, looks like a 12 year old human, until you notice his pointed ears, and the wrinkles in his face that appear when he smiles. For some reason the Kender think that wrinkles are a mark of beauty, go figure. Anyway, He wears a fur vest , leggings and lots of pouches. He has a whoopack staff, that is a walking stick with a fork at one end, sharpened at the other and a sling in the fork. The sharpened end is tipped with a soft steel, it is not for defense per se but for better walking stick status.

(tiny tag: tasseloff Burrfoot)