milliways_bar | Entries tagged with renfield

soulburden.livejournal.com

Renfield is in a booth, mumbling darkly at a pair of wax fangs he found in a glass of water on the table next to his bed.

He currently has no clue that he is dressed remarkably like a favorite character from a black and white American 1960s tv sitcom.

realmrsreynolds

It's an old lady.

Soon to be older -- her birthday's coming up soon.

Perhaps that's why the Bar has decided to be humorous, offering up a pamphlet titled So You're A Sextagenarian alongside Sallie's tea.

"[Very funny, you crazy plank of wood...]"

cheevy.livejournal.com

Miniver Cheevy and a small copper-and-bluegrey kestrel are in the bar. Miniver is sitting on a table, the bird is sitting on his left hand savaging a piece of raw meat. Miniver has a wooden staff lying on the table in front of him, and is apparently using a white wand to burn letters into it. It's taking rather a long time, because this is a new spell, but it's good practice, so he keeps at it. He has not yet set the staff on fire, which is a real accomplishment, but he's got a pot of tea just in case that should happen.

Come say hello and he might explain exactly what the hell he's doing.

soulburden.livejournal.com

Renfield likes quiet. Research is important. Henry David Thoreau claimed that fools make and follow rules.

Renfield is squinting at some scrolls, his croissant and tea left to their own devices.

morelikeasponge.livejournal.com

Peter is having an earnest conversation with a waitrat. As one does.

"...but toasted on one side. Is that okay?"

I don't speak your crazy people language, says the rat's face. Plaintively. "Squeak," says the rat's mouth.

"Uh," says Peter, rubbing the back of his neck, "okay, do you know Morse code?"

The rat looks around desperately.

Won't somebody think of the waitrats?

soulburden.livejournal.com

He had received a coat when he first came to Milliways. Soon after, Renfield started receiving other things- more clothing (to replace those bloody rags he came in wearing), more paper, pencils in various colours, and some new reading glasses.

At the moment, he is busily marking notations in the margins of a novel written by someone with the last name of Kafka.

It's in the original German.

the-woodpecker.livejournal.com

There's no real sign that a party went on yesterday; the loompas made an exception and got busy outside once most patrons headed in to sleep.

It's much like it was yesterday.

Hot sun. Warm water. Abundant food. Unending drink.

And a certain air of lassitude that only an entire weekend of lying around in the sun can bring.

If you haven't yet joined the party, you might as well. We're only just getting started.

the-woodpecker.livejournal.com

Well, looky here!

There's a bartender behind Bar hasn't been behind Bar in a few weeks. Fancy that.

Having put the kids to bed for naps at home, Bernard stretches, yawns, and surveys the room, thinking he'd like a nap, too. He picks up a glass and a rag and starts polishing, ready to take orders.

soulburden.livejournal.com

Renfield had to procure a new journal, as the last one (plus the extra pages Suzi had given him) was now completely filled with notes, figures and random scribbles that even he couldn't quite make out sometimes. Most of it he could figure out, but some of it looks like rubbish.

Which likely led to his current emotional state.

He sits hunched over at a table, scribbling, erasing, and grunting at a page in his brand new journal, the new coat Bar had given him draped over the adjacent chair.

soulburden.livejournal.com

Renfield has more things with him than he did when he entered yesterday:

Namely, a room key and a notebook (with pencil!). Presently, he is in a booth, scribbling something in the margins of loose-leaf notebook paper that that sweet girl gave him yesterday. Some of the pages are scattered about on the table, floor and the seat beside him.

(The tea is cold.)

Either he's making a list of names for the wait-rats, or he's plotting the fastest way from point A (the observation window) to point B (the actual end of the universe).

[ooc: Okay folken, I'm for bed, but I can still take tags, if you don't mind slow-timing it.]

soulburden.livejournal.com

[Pre-Milliways: The Lonely Life Unfolds.]

So many colours, I never knew there could be so many colours- more than steel, more than sapphire, unnammed colours on wings -more than one colour- and colours not known to man nor beast.

Perhaps now I am the Moth. I reject your silly labels, I shall no longer be called Patient, no longer Renfield-

"What is this place?"

[ooc: Okay folken. I sleep now, because I want to be up before 10 am tomorrow. ;) Tag if you want, I will pick up any and all tags.]

The Bar at the End of the Universe

Entries tagged with renfield

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Lake Party Shore Post Day Two

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