milliways_bar | Entries tagged with robbie ross

cheevy.livejournal.com

Gifts left with Bar for Harding, Darren Nichols, Draco and Mia, Ginny Weasley, Guppy, Jack Frost, Moon, Robbie Ross, Roger Ratcliffe, Sam Linnfer, Ravin, Tom Riddle (& family), Will Scarlett, and YT. Others will be (or have been) delivered in person.

...pretend this happened on Christmas proper. >.>

robbie-ross.livejournal.com

It's been quite a while since Robbie has made his way to the bar.

He has an armful of books and papers when he walks in, and blinks a bit. The young college student seems to debate whether or not to turn right back around and go back to the library. With a quiet sigh, the debate is ended and he finds a booth to slip into.

Tea and scones soon arrive.

He begins sorting through his class work, sipping the tea.

He's wondering what the point is of this schooling, because at present, he's learning things he's long known!

robbie-ross.livejournal.com

Robbie is at a table, books and papers spread out around him as he scritches notes.

He's finding that he dislikes college, especially since the publication he had been writing for had been pulled. He was still silently fuming about that, and the rumours flying around the school, but he was trying to finish out his course load before the winter holidays.

He's also keeping an eye out for Miniver, since the poet was due to come home with him for those holidays.

cheevy.livejournal.com

It's late, but there's a poet in the bar -- quiet, off at a table somewhere, contentedly scribbling vague rhymes in a book with an enchanted quill pen that seems to write in whatever color it bloody well feels like. Tonight, it's sparkly. A soft, sage-tinted sparkly gold ink. Half the time, in truth, he isn't even writing anything that makes any coherent sense whatsoever. He just likes to look at the ink.

He's fully interruptable.

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

After this, Draco had spent a day sulking in his room in the House. Today, he was in the bar again. No wizarding robes in sight. The clothes looked decidedly ordinary, if neat and conservative. His shoulder length blond hair was swept back. He flopped down at the bar, looking utterly depressed. A steaming cup of tea and a plate of biscuits appeared, and a book on advanced muggles studies. He sneered at the book, shoving it away angrily. The tea was sipped moodily, the biscuits ignored.

Day 1 of Draco's muggle life

will_scarlett

Will's mood is strange and thoughtful, so he decided he needed to keep his hands busy and make something, since action that doesn't involve hitting things is good.

His door's there and hasn't left again, but he's enjoying the haven of Milliways and talking to Belle made him think of teaching Hektor.

That's why he is fletching arrows for the short bow that's beside him, Bar provided it and would have given the arrows, but Will would rather construct them himself.

There's a tankard of ale that he sips once in a while as he focusses on an arrow, he would be happy to talk as he works.

cheevy.livejournal.com

Tonight there is a Miniver in the bar. He looks like he's got a lot on his mind. Well... more on his mind than usual. He's curled up in a chair by the trilobite tank, watching the weird critters do their trilobite thang.

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

(Millitimed to Sunday OOM: Draco runs into Robbie again, brief discussions about notes and grudges, plus nature of wizards, war, religion (with an invitation), death, and what makes a git tick. Then absinthe proves an heady mix as a precursor for some unique lessons. WARNING in the second link for intimate scenes.)

cheevy.livejournal.com

[OOM: Miniver and Robbie Ross have a bit of fun. Millitimed to April 23rd. SEX AHOY.]

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

Draco stopped down in the bar, and noticed a note at the bar.

He took it, and glanced over the contents. Didn't have to?? He was attacked! Why would he be sent to the cells? Stupid bitch. Sorry, like he'd believe that. He waved his wand to make it disappear.

And then asked for a Firewhisky. Actually, a double would be better. He sourly sat at the bar with his drinks.

robbie-ross.livejournal.com

[OOM: Millitimed to Sunday night: Word problem time. A train leaves Victorian England at X miles per hour heading toward Milliways. At the same time, another train leaves the Wizarding World at Y miles per hour for the same destination. What level of carnage will ensue when the two trains collide? The answer? A lot. And then... a lot more. Warnings for Smut, Brain Breaky, and, Oh, No, They Di'n't.]

robbie-ross.livejournal.com

Robbie is comfortably sprawled on a sofa, throwing propriety out the window.

In his hand is a book of poetry, which he seems thoroughly engrossed in. Beside him is a half-drunk glass of cognac and small plate of half finished grapes and cheese.

This is the first time since coming to Milliways that Robbie feels relaxed and content, and he intends to enjoy every moment of it before returing home.

robbie-ross.livejournal.com

Seated in a booth is one Mr. Robbie Ross.

His brow is creased in concentration as he flips through a thick book, making notes on some paper beside him. He's dressed rather informally, having just come from his classes at Scoone's. Pot of tea sits untouched in front of him; when the man is focused on something, everything else is forgotten.

robbie-ross.livejournal.com

[OOM: Robbie goes to Confession.]

cheevy.livejournal.com

[OOM: Miniver plays nurse.]

In theory, he knows it's not a great idea for him to show his face down at the bar. Unfortunately, Miniver is extremely hungover and slept less than an hour the night before, thus his thought processes are not exactly clear.

He knows how to care for Draco's injuries. He grew up learning intimately and repetatively all the ways one can be bruised and battered and how it feels and what helps. Other than booze. He does what he can. Draco is still asleep, deeply enough that Miniver feels he can leave him long enough to come downstairs for a little while.

He collapses into a bar stool and immediately a tall glass of water and a few asperin appear. He swallows the asperin, takes a few sips of the water, and puts his head down on his arm on the bar.

He might be asleep. Or might not. All are welcome to poke him to make sure he's not dead.

robbie-ross.livejournal.com

Robbie walks into the bar, loaded down with books and papers.

He frowns.

This wasn't where he'd intended to be, but Milliways does that sort of thing to one's schedule.

He goes with the change of venue as he does with everything in his life: with unsurprised poise and dignity. Robbie chooses a table and unloads his belongs, setting everything up just right before going to Bar and requesting ink and pen.

Even detours to the bar at the end of the universe required one to keep up their studies.

Robbie returns to his table and opens a large, rather dusty tome on the Greeks and their social society. He dives into it, reading and making quick, scrawling notations. He has a secretary now who transcribes those notes, so he no longer has to worry about the quality of his penmanship.

simple-secret.livejournal.com

Buzz buzz and hum, newborn gnats swarming low near the water, zipping, darting, dodging playful nips from the furry orange animal as he trots along. The bright grass gets its share of examination, and here and there a sapling is sniffed at, rubbed, or tasted, snap of green and bendy twigs in small sharp teeth. Best of all are the falling petals from blossoming trees, brief snowshowers in the dappled warmth just inside the forest. Now and then, the boundless energy is put on hold for a few minutes in order to appreciate a particulary pleasing patch of sunlight.

A cool spring afternoon and a fox to share it with. Any takers?

robbie-ross.livejournal.com

[OOM: Robbie returns to Tite Street and meets the wall of silence he has been avoiding. Warning for intimacy at the end.]

robbie-ross.livejournal.com

Robbie is at a table in a darkened corner of the bar. He has a glass of absinthe, his papers, and a pen.

He's writing, and for once, it isn't notes or schoolwork. It was his own stories he fiddles with now. The young Victorian looks a little worse for wear, but he's very concentrated on the writing.

He wouldn't turn away company, because he's polite and friendly. And company might wipe some of those lines from his face as he scribbles quickly.

robbie-ross.livejournal.com

[OOM: Millitimed to Sunday evening -- following a meeting with Draco Malfoy and another one with Miniver Cheevy, Robbie returns home and goes hunting. Warnings go to the OOM for implied sex.]

cheevy.livejournal.com

Miniver is in the bar this fine evening. He's wearing what looks like a rumpled Victorian day suit -- kinda stripey. It looks slept in because that pretty much happens to anything Miniver puts on within 10 minutes. He's sitting on the edge of a table nibbling on marshmallow Peeps. Pink ones. Oh yes, he loves marshmallows, but Peeps are like holy nectar of the gods. If he can't drink, these are the next best thing. Mmm, comfort food.

He'll be happy to share.

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

Draco was casually sitting at a table with the remnants of a late dinner cooling on a plate by him. There was also some tea, likewise cooling. A moonstone pendant gleamed at his throat, obvious against the dark wizard robes. And as usual, his hand sported the family crest ring.
Seemingly engrossed in a book, though his grey eyes also observed the place at large on occasion.

cheevy.livejournal.com

Miniver is in the bar tonight. This is interesting because of the manner in which he is sitting -- namely, on a table, surrounded by small pots of partly-blooming Easter lilies -- fortunately not one of the plants he will eventually start bitching about being allergic to when Spring progresses more. He's even got one particularly large blossom stuck in a buttonhole of his coat. A sign on the table reads:

Flowers FREE for Easter.
Human not for sale or rent.

Yes, Easter is three days away. Hence, live flowers in pots of dirt not yet fully blooming.

Come say hello and grab some plants.

robbie-ross.livejournal.com

It isn't April in London.

It's closer to August, which is why Robbie isn't aware in the slightest that -- in the bar -- it's April first.

He comes through the door and doesn't immediately panic since the door remains after he's closed it. Robbie has a large sheaf of papers with him, since he'd been on his way to his room to study, and decides that he can find a quiet corner to do this here. He locates a perfect table and asks Bar for ink and a pen before sitting down to pour over his notes.

After a bit, he asks a waitrat for a pot of tea and a creamer, since his head was beginning to ache from looking at his own quick scrawl.

He needed to take better notes.

cheevy.livejournal.com

[OOM: Miniver arrives for dinner with the Wildes. He meets Constance, Cyril, and Vyvyan and is pulled into a philosophical reverie with Robbie Ross in Oscar Wilde's room. The actual dinner scene is left to the readers' imagination, but details will be given by Miniver and Robbie in later threads.]