milliways_bar | Entries tagged with seth clearwater

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

The Front door Opens.

This is a figure who hasn't been around for a while-but that doesn't mean that he's not here. At least in spirit.

So he's got a tux on. And his hair is slicked back.

"...Okay. Right now? So not a good time."

But hey. He's here right?

Running a hand through his hair, Carl Denham puts on a big showman's face. He looks like he might want to address the bar at large.

Please, someones top him before he does.

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

The door opens to reveal Carl Denham. Tired, haggard, he's got a Massive stuffe ape under his arm. Taking a seat, he sits the monkey down in front of him and orders a Jack Daniels.

When the waitrat arrives, he waves a hand, "....Jus' leave the bottle."

The Rat might squeak, but hell-he's got a look on his face that says "don't argue with it."

Drunken Carl Denham with a massive stuffed ape. Ask him what's up? Talk to him about it? Order one?

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

There's a mun who's gotten canon! So here's Carl with his scarf and a beer.

He looks like he might need it.

beautiful_ann

[OOM: A brief recap -- After losing her job at the theater, Ann takes a job offered by Carl Denham, acting in his new film. On the ship the Venture, she meets one Jack Driscoll and they fall in love.

After reaching Skull Island and spending an . . . eventful . . . day there, the Venture returns to New York. The experience has left Ann a different person.]

The door opens, revealing a glimpse of a shabby hallway, and Ann Darrow steps through. Her head is down and her shoulders are tense -- a sharp contrast to the last time she came to Milliways.

She pauses, just inside the door, to look around.

". . . Oh."

And, rather automatically, she wanders over to the bar and orders a cup of coffee, setting down a carpetbag next to her stool.

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

There's wind and a bit of snow outside as a man in a hideously orange and white scarf throws open the door and stomps in.

Once he's in however, Carl relaxes. There's only so long that a man can be angry. Not to mention he's angry about petty matters anyway. Millie and Danny and their constant heckling about the monkey-the studio-a new script.

Ah, the burdens of being a filmmaker.

So he sits, but not before depositing a stack of bills and some coins on the bar.

"Tips."
The tips vanish.

Carl is a good tipper.
Afterwhich he procures a pad of paper and a pencil, trying his best to write out a story idea he's had for a bit. Hey-he can write. He's just...um...bad at it.

He's trying to write a first person narrative about an astronaut in space orbiting Jupiter with a giant black triangle.
Or square. Something like that.

You can talk to him.

beautiful_ann

[OOM: A day on set, on the Venture. Currently slowtimed.]

bohemian-mark.livejournal.com

[OOM: Mark goes to Life Support.]

Mark bikes into the bar, camera on his bike, and cellphone on his ear. "Adam, listen, I.... shit." Facepalming, he props the bike against the wall, removing the camera and shuffling off to Bar. He really could use a drink. He could probably use some conversation as well. Any takers?

jackdriscoll.livejournal.com

[ In New York City, 1999:
Mark Cohen shows Jack his new digs. Jack makes a selection. ]

He'd need to eat, first. And tell a few of his friends he was leaving. He strides over to the bar and asks the lovely lady to give him something modern. He gets a plate of hamburger and fries and a glass of Coke in return. Grinning, he sits on a barstool and proceeds to dig in to his unhealthy meal.

Come say hi to him. It might be the last you'll see of him in a while. If he has his way.

Current Mood: cheerful

jackdriscoll.livejournal.com

Jack is eating a waffle at a table. He's in a good mood. It might be the waffle. It might be the job he's accepted. Could be. Might be. Better if you ask, eh?

Current Mood: excited

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

Carl Denham!

Because the Mun's got BACK like Chilli's Babyback ribs.

So there's Carl, opening the door-slightly bemused but never the less....

He's humming a rather jaunty lil' tune as he saunters into the room.

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

There's a Carl Denham inna bar.

He's got a pamphlet and it looks like he hasn't slept, but it's not one of those "Alcoholic" not-sleeps, it's a-well-a good not sleep.

Says he's been busy.

Grinning, he plays with the pamphlet, folding it into a paper airplane and out again.

jackdriscoll.livejournal.com

[ After this. ]

There is an adorable, big nosed, pissed off kid at the bar.

He seems to be upset the bar gave him water instead of vodka.

Pity.

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

There's a Carl.

Who appears to be making loud and angry gestures at someone beyond the eyeshot of the individuals in the bar.

"-And you can take that and shove it up YOUR-"

Whirling around (perhaps to make sure there are no police?) Carl blinks.

"well wouldya lookit that." Carl muttered, "back again hmm?"

bohemian-mark.livejournal.com

[OOM: In which Mark finds something Quite Odd in the paper.]

The door flies open, and Mark runs into the bar, clutching a newspaper in his hand, and jumps up on the nearest table. "ANGEL! Where the hell are you?" He looks around, a bit of a wild grin on his face. Mark has News.

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

Here there's a Carl.
Coming in from the cold blowing his hands. The door, still banging open-reveals a cold winter landscape.

He's looking to avoid someone specific, however he does genuinely wanna make sure he's okay.

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

There's a Carl in the bar.

Wary, somewhat nervous-He tried to call Jack and-surprise the phone was busy.

So he's come here looking for him.
But he's up for finding anybody.

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

One minute Carl was tapping his foot and re-reading over Mark's music.

And the next-

The next he was sitting in his seat staring stupidly at the music.

"....What the HELL is this?" He picked at the papers, rifling through them. It was good, very very good-but at the same time it was...

A musical

And he hated musicals.

Grimacing, he goes to the bar-and orders a straight bottle of Jack Daniels. Now looking for someone in particular.

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

There is a Carl Denham inna bar.

He's got a rather colorful stack of clothing under his arm. Hefting it to a table he stops dead in his tracks and leans back-breathing hard. It's obvious he's been lugging it for a while.

Grinning. He puts out that sign you've all come to know and love.

OPEN CASTING.

MUSICAL

Do we really need to say the rest?

He's also keepin' a weathering eye out for mark-cause...well...

You might also want to ask him about that rather smallish playbill with a cartoon of an ape in chains-roaring it's fury at the world.

royal-guarantor.livejournal.com

Roshaun comes down the stairs, carrying himself like a king.

Mostly because he is one.

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

[OOM Carl has a rather unpleasant encounter with Kong, who-as a living personification of nature, doesn't take too kindly to anything like Music screwing with that nature. Rated P for Pity from a giant monkey, People going crazy over Kong rampaging, and playing old timey 1920s tunes.]

The world's in the red,
We're better off dead.
Depression, they say,
's in session to stay.
Our judges are queer.
Our banks disappear,
And all the while they tell us to smile.

The Music that made Kong mad's coming from here. But Carl's too busy tapping his feet to the tune to notice.

if you were to look outside the still open door you might see the beginning's of a breadline. Hear the honk of cars, smell the stink that was and is depression era New York City.

Cheer up gentle citizens,
Tho' you have no shirts.
Happy days are here again.
Cheer up! Smile! Nerts!
All aboard prosperity,
Giggle till it hurts.
No more breadline charity.
Cheer up! Smile! Nerts!

Carl scribbles a quick note to-
( Mark Cohen. Cohen and Denham productions )

he leaves the note on the bar-trusting that it'll get where it needs to be, and runs out, making sure to button his coat and keep his fedora tight on his head.

There's a whisp of snow left behind.

bohemian-mark.livejournal.com

It would be old hat if it wasn't rather strange. Mark Cohen at a table, with a guitar, whistling a jaunty tune as he works on scoring a musical. He's gone from lyrics and song to orchestral score now. Did anyone know that he knew how to transcribe for clarinets and saxophones? I sure didn't.

But, really, if you don't mind a bit of strange, he's friendly enough. Might even write you in if you're nice.

[ooc: Mark. Sans camera. Anyone guess what that means? Right! Rocks In. Tag away. You don't have to get it. Just stare.]

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

Would you like to take a guess who's in the bar with his sign and a glass of tall frosty Jack Daniels?

Could it be, CARL DENHAM, star of screen, stage, broadway and whatever the Else is possibly musically inclined?

You'd be right!

Carl, With his sign. Now Changed.

OPEN CASTING CALL. BROADWAY MUSICAL

DENHAM AND COHEN PRODUCTIONS

A stirring rendition of twelfth night set in the gay 1920s.

And he's got a REALLY big trunk that he dragged in here ALL BY HIMSELF.

[Carl of the Rocks. Ping if you want it, ping if you're curious, ping for any reason, mun needs happy feelings. ^_^]

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

Ladies and Gentlemen, CARL DENHAM.

In the bar. With Another rather large sign
And a weathering eye kept out for certain individuals.

The sign. In big letters reads-

OPEN CASTING

AS-yet-UNTITLED MUSICAL PRODUCTION.

COHEN AND DENHAM PRODUCTION

(Only Fair.)

He's humming a tune by a man who's at least twenty years away from broadway (His name would be brooks? books? Mel something-or-other) And tapping his feet to the beat.

Semi Cast-List
Viola-Maureen-something? Ask Mark Cohen.
Sebastian-Mark Cohen
Olivia-Christine (Last name unknown?)
Antonio-
Maria-Catherine Willows
Duke Orisino-Spike (Last name unknown?)
Malvolio-
Valentine-
Fabian-
Feste-
Priest-
Sir Toby-
Sir Andrew

Expect changes. Expect revisions. See Carl Denham about either/or. Warning: thismusicalisneverreallybeingputintoproduction. Itisjustforplotwithrocksinit. thankyouverymuch

[Carl. ROCKS. Tag if you want to catch it, gawk and wonder, or genuinely want to be in show.]

bohemian-mark.livejournal.com

At a table in the middle of the bar is a man with a guitar. Staff paper and regular paper are piled around him, as he scribbles madly at them. He's wearing a suit, somewhat badly fitting, and humming to himself.

Perhaps you should ask him what's up. Especially if you know him. Mark Cohen doesn't have his camera.

[ooc: Do I have to keep saying it? Mark has Rocks In. Let me know if you want the music bug, otherwise, tag away.]

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

There's a Carl in the bar. Or maybe he's just never left.

Suffice to say you might notice there's something different about this particular filmmaker. For instance, He's Whistling a rather jaunty tune

The time has come
To be a lover from the Argentine
To slick my hair down with Brilliantine
And gargle heavily with Listerine
Wow!
It's time for Max
To put his backers on their backs
And thrill them with amazing acts
Those aging nymphomaniacs...

Secondly, scanning through broadway magazines like they're the holy grail. Picking some up and throwin' them down.

Pardon him if he hits you we beg, he's not himself as of lately.

[Carl with Rocks in him. Ping if you're in the mood to catch it, but if not just come and marvel at the crazed little fat man]