milliways_bar | Entries tagged with santo

Traditions about the celebration of birthdays vary from country to country and culture to culture. Very few of them are really designed with interdimensional bars at the end of time in mind.

Fortunately, there is one bar tradition that works well nearly anywhere.

"Señora Bar," says Santo, "please, one drink for everyone here today, on me. That should do for a birthday celebration, si?"

[OOC: The real El Santo was born on September 23rd, 1917. I am assuming that the movie character he played shares his birthday as well as his name, so- happy birthday, El Santo.]

acme_chief

"A-HA!" says the woman who just opened a Door to the bar. She immediately props it with a copy of the Columbia Encyclopedia and starts bringing in boxes full of--wires? lightbulbs? keyboards? things making noises? Is that a hamster? Do they make floppy disks that size any more?

Right. Once she's got everything through she unstops the Door and colonizes a booth.

((Woot, one of the rare moments I'm in a ridiculous enough mood to play The Chief!))

el_enmascarado_de_plata

It's been a busy day in Mexico City, mostly involving a gang of ruthless counterfeiters and kidnappers who outnumber the police assigned to their case. Santo's been helping with that. He's got a match tonight, so he hadn't planned on coming to the Bar today, but the door found him.

"I suppose this means I'm still on duty of sorts," he says to the Bar. "Very well; I will wear my Security badge as long as you have me here, in case anyone needs me."

Maybe he'll take a pre-match nap before going home, but right now, Security member on duty inna bar.

hate_gettin_older

[Elsewhere in Milliways: A Night in the Cells.

Millitimed to before Cubefall, after this.]

nohillforastepper

( So a Nazi walks into a Bar... )
[OOC: If you haven't already, please read this backroom post before clicking on the cut! And just as a forewarning, I'll be pretty slow responding to tags for the better part of this week and the next.]

[ETA: We're back in business! Still going to be slow, but the mun is up and about.]

daringyoungman

THE FLOOR IS LAVA.

(It's not actually lava.)

Dick, who is thirteen years old and by all accounts too old for games like the floor is lava, skips into the bar through the door and lands on a table near by. He topples over onto his hands and walks for a little while across the backs of a couple of chairs towards another table, and tiptoes through plates and glasses without touching a single one.

He strolls idly over to the bar, fetches himself a milkshake, and starts the journey towards the fireplace. All very normal, very ordinary.

Except THE FLOOR IS LAVA.

[OOC: HELLO OPEN TO ALL. DCU!tiny Dick.]

el_enmascarado_de_plata

"Senorita Bar? May I- oh."

There's a napkin.

"Really? Are there that many patrons here from Puebla, that they expect the day to be celebrated?"

Another napkin.

"Hm. Interesting," he says, and pats the bar. "Well, regardless, I'll be happy to serve tonight. You take your rest."

Specials

Dishes
Chiles en nogada
Mole poblano
Cemita

Drinks

Victoria
Negra Modelo
Pacifico

Jarritos soda

He's not entirely sure what the popular drinks are in Puebla, but it's at least reasonable to offer some traditional foods from the part of the country where el Cinco de Mayo is an important thing, right?

el_enmascarado_de_plata

It has been a busy day. Not, for once, busy with spies or vampires or Aztec mummies or moon Nazis; today was the first day of a major tournament in Mexico City, and of course Santo had to participate, at least in the hair-versus-mask category. It was a good day, overall, and he cleaned up afterwards, of course, but the door to Milliways caught him before he was able to change out of his sequined silver cape and into his street clothes. He did change his mask; the one he wears in the ring was all sweaty and itchy, but that is why he has more than one mask at all times. It's just good hygiene.

At any rate, now he is in Milliways instead of the place he had intended to go, so he might as well make use of it, si?

... or perhaps, given the napkin, the Bar intends to make use of him.

Since today is no holiday that he knows of, there are no reasons for him to put up a Specials sign, but Santo is behind the Bar looking expectant and ready to serve. At least as far as a man in a silver mask and silver reinforced spandex trousers and wrestling shoes and a cape can be.

freedom_is_grey

Fighting an Archdemon is no joke. Ysalwen still kind of wishes it were, and her bruises and scrapes and charred bits definitely wish it were, but --

Well.

At least it's over. And thanks to Morrigan (and Alistair, which Ysalwen will definitely not be thinking about again now or in the near future, or even apologizing for because that would require thinking about it -- anyway.

Someone -- no naming names, Zevran, she promises -- left the bedroom to use the privy, which means Ysalwen is free to try standing up. Maybe try taking a walk, while she's at it.

Or at least making it down to Arl Eamon's kitchen. Sneaked food is so much better than what's served at real mealtimes.

She pauses to strap her staff to her back, because she feels really naked without it, after everything, and then opens the door to the hallway, slow and quiet.

What meets her eyes is nothing like the stone hallway, but is instead a bustling common room full of strangers.

Really, really strange strangers. Ysalwen takes a few steps inside anyway, because it's not like she's been able to avoid grappling with anything in the past. (Seriously. Nothing.)

"If this is the Fade again, at least it's an improvement over last time."

She could be dreaming! It has, sadly, happened before.

Tiny tag: Grey Warden

el_enmascarado_de_plata

No vampires or risen mummies or international gangsters running around loose in Mexico City today. There was a match, but it wasn't a particularly crucial one, and Dos Caras put up a pretty good fight without anybody getting seriously hurt. So, all in all, it's been a decent day at home.

Santo's gonna celebrate by parking himself at one of the more prominent Milliways tables with his security badge prominently on display and keep an eye on things here for a while. It seldom hurts for people to know there's guards on duty.

tire_moi_mes_bottes

At this point Lesgle's feelings would be hurt, genuinely hurt, if he didn't get a happy hour request from Bar at least every couple of weeks or so. Tending bar is a most congenial activity, in the absence of useful political work.

Today he considers the chalk board and writes

Teach the barman a new cocktail recipe and all attempts to recreate it will go on his tab until he performs to your satisfaction.

((Open to new threads till the next Happy Hour, but I need to call it a night for now!))

tipsilyeverafter

Sadie is wandering in front of the observation window, a martini in one hand and a shoe in the other. She would be wearing both shoes, but one seems to have scampered off to parts unknown, and one simply does not wear a high-heeled shoe without its partner.

But she does have a martini, so yay!

Steve Rogers's shoes are tucked under the sofa, and his feet are tucked under his legs as he draws. Or at least the shoes should be. One seems to be ... not there.

Steve has not noticed yet.

Cecil Palmer is not wearing shoes. His feet are propped onto a chair as he types on his smart phone, and the shoes are under the table.

His socks are purple and decorated with tiny Holstein cows.

Well, when you have socks this cute, why hide them?

Jack Benjamin is the picture of barefoot decadence as he sprawls in a booth.

One shoe is tucked into his jacket pocket.

The other...well, maybe he left it somewhere as a "forget-me-not."

[ooc: Car keys bait, open until bedtime tonight, please comment with who you want to thread with.]

el_enmascarado_de_plata

One would think that former Nazi scientists would have a hard time getting their nuclear missiles to the Moon and targeted at Earth without someone noticing the process, but apparently one would be wrong.

It's all been dealt with, of course. Santo wouldn't be here if it hadn't been. But between one thing and another he's had quite enough of his side of the Door for today, and he could really use a beer, so there's a luchador in the Bar with badge prominently displayed for all your security and wrestling needs.

cute_bruiser

Molly comes into the bar in her uniform, doesn't break stride, stalks straight past a certain patron as if she hadn't seen him, and gets a bottle of beer from Bar.

She doesn't write the note for Security until she's finished it and got a second.

Guys,

Lecter's back.

If anyone else wants to get drunk and not talk about that, I'll buy the first round.

(PS. Calling him 'Mr' seems to bug him.)

Xx Moll

If she looks pissed off, that's because she is. (For reasons entirely unrelated to the bad suit, as it happens, although he's not exactly made her day.)

Friggin' awesome.

(She's not gonna object to talking with non-Security members, either, but her badge is conspicuously not on right now.)

vance_prime

This morning, Hope and Eli Freeman discovered the joys of fingerpainting.

Unfortunately, they 'discovered' it all over the floor, the walls, the furniture, the robots, and their parents. Gordon and Alyx spent most of the afternoon and evening cleaning paint smears off of every surface a pair of sufficiently determined two-year-olds can reach.

Now, a very tired Alyx Vance, still spattered with primary-colored paint here and there, drags herself into Milliways and settles down for a drink. Interrupt her if you dare.

[ooc: Open until it falls off the page.]

cute_bruiser

After some further consideration - and after a certain arrest - Molly leaves an additional note for Security.

Guys,

I've celled someone from our favorite Mr Lecter's world for a night, on account of she punched him in the face.

(Officially the worst arrest EVER. Nearly broke my heart breaking them up.)

Her name's Beverly Katz, and she's a FBI agent and says she's from his 'verse.

Once she's out, or so long as they can't interact (I don't think we need to give him any sitting targets to play mindgames with), I'm totally fine with celling Hannibal if you lot are.

Moll.

P.S.

I REALLY hope he doesn't come quietly.

Note left, she takes a seat at the bar with a (glittery) milkshake.

el_enmascarado_de_plata

There have been some interesting things going on in Mexico City lately. The country's currency only just restabilized after he and Jorge Rubio managed to stop that counterfeiting ring, and now there's reports coming in from several of Santo's scientific friends of a mysterious set of rockets headed for the Moon, none of which are claimed by either the United States or the Russians-

Oh. Milliways.

Well, Santo needed a break anyway. Time to put on his Security badge and do a shift; people need to see the mask every once in a while.

el_enmascarado_de_plata

The door flies open and Santo barrels through, shoulder first. This makes a tremendous noise when the wrestler hits the floor.

Well, these things happen.

he gets to his feet, shakes his head, and tries the door briefly; it doesn't open. "Señora Bar?" he says. "Is this your way of saying it's been too long since I stood a Security shift?"

The Bar, of course, says nothing in response. But there is smugness in the air.

"Very well. I will do my duty, but then I have work to get back to," says Santo. He produces his Security badge, please don't ask from where, and fastens it to the harness that holds his cape to his shoulders.

Because really, what says 'don't try breaking the rules' quite like a large Mexican in a silver spandex mask, spangly cape, and silver spandex pants?

evil_koala_626

It's been a relatively quiet in Milliways today. Some might even go so far as to suggest it's too quiet. And some others, more savvy in the ways of the bar, might immediately begin ducking for cover because some things you just don't say aloud around here.

The door rocks back on its hinges with an almighty crash as... something comes whirling ball of blue fur, oiled leather and furious snuffling noises. It comes to rest upside down against a table leg, resolving in the form of a small alien. A small alien wearing a catchers mitt. A small alien wearing a catchers mitt with on it a colander on its head.

"Ugh," groans Stitch. He rights himself, rubs one hand over his blunt muzzle and blinks.

And blinks again.

Milliways...?

His ears fan forward, nose shifting in to overdrive... Milliways.

MILLIWAYS!

"TUKIBOWABA! HahahahHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

(OOC: Open forever with the caveat that replies will be on the slow side)

el_enmascarado_de_plata

It has been a very busy day back in Mexico City, and not just because of the wrestling tournament Santo is competing in. He's glad to be clear of all that fuss.

A bit surprised to receive Señorita Bar's note, but glad nonetheless.

Specialties on offer tonight

Victoria
Negra Modelo
Pacifico

Jarritos soda

He still thinks it a little odd for a bar to be advertising specials, but it's expected around here, so he might as well. He adjusts his Security badge- just because he is tending Bar doesn't mean he isn't expected to live up to that duty- and waits.

el_enmascarado_de_plata

Today was not originally going to be a day when Santo visited Milliways, but since the door appeared and he was already wearing the version of his mask best suited for eating in public, he sees no harm in staying. He'll just get his lunch, and then he'll put on his Security badge and get a well-lit, visible table in case any assistance is needed. Lunch can, after all, always be put aside in favor of doing his job.

el_enmascarado_de_plata

The last time Santo was in the Bar, he had an extended chat with Melaka Fray ~~(OOC: which is still in progress at the moment, but which has been discussed with Mel's mun)~~. Between one thing and another, the topic of the Bar's security needs eventually came up, as well as the qualifications one might need to have in order to meet those needs.

Well, it turned out that a wrestler with the skill, strength, and willpower to come out on top in throwdowns with vampires, werewolves, evil ex-Nazi scientists, Martians, and international gangsters goes a long way towards those qualifications. Add in his lifelong belief that someone strong and skilled should use that strength for protecting others (and public entertainment, against others of similar skill) rather than for doing harm, and job offers happen.

There's a badge waiting with the Bar when Santo comes into the Bar today. He is good with this. Hopefully there won't be trouble before he can introduce himself to the rest of the people who serve as Bar Security. For now, he would like a drink and a seat where he can get a good look at the goings-on around the place.

el_enmascarado_de_plata

It's one thing to capture Santo's best friend, Blue Demon, and use a machine to hypnotize him into fighting for your evil organization. Hypnosis can be broken if you handle things right. Santo's dealt with that before, no problem. (Blue Demon was pretty pissed off when he woke up, but given that he and Santo were in Aquiles' secret base in Atlantis when it happened, he had plenty of targets to take out his frustration on.)

It's quite another to use a human-size duplicating machine to create a second version of Santo's best friend and make it evil from the start.

At least Santo got to use a morningstar when that happened. And Blue Demon, well... he didn't take the duplication any better than he did the hypnosis. Santo almost feels sorry for Dr. Halder for even trying.

Almost.

One luchador in the Bar with the morning Mexico City newspaper and a cup of coffee. Throwing down with Dr. Halder's reanimated horrors merits a little pick-me-up in Santo's book.

fluffiest_archadian

The boy in his early teens wandering into the bar looks - not nearly as confused as he probably should. He does look wary, though.

He's also practically swamped in the grey fatigues he's wearing, enough so that his hands are barely visible.

He doesn't have an actual weapon, but he tightens his grip on the wooden training sword in his hand. If needs be, bludgeoning is as efficient as anything else.

Botherable.

el_enmascarado_de_plata

There is a note at the Bar when the silver-masked wrestler arrives this evening. "Is that so? Very well, then," he says. A few moments later he's behind the Bar.

"Señora Bar is resting for the evening. I will be serving as tender for the next several hours," he announces. "Order as you like."

They don't do much in the way of mixed drinks or specials in the bars he knows, so you'll just have to take your chances with the luchador and your orders.

(OOC: Meant it to be Stacker Pentecost. Couldn't get Stacker to work. Have Santo instead!)