milliways_bar | Entries tagged with spider nancy

What's blue and red and white all over?

That would be Spider-Man swinging into the bar, crashing into a table, and getting tangled up in his own webbing.

"Oboy."

This was supposed to be Broadway.

"...I think I got a splinter the size of Jersey in my butt..."

[tags: peter parker/spider-man, ben grimm/thing ]

brotherspider

There's a reasonable explanation for this, but it's not very well forthcoming.

A tall oblong form, completely black, now resides within the bar.

Also, "The Blue Danube" seems to be playing softly in the background, courtesy of the Karaoke Machine of Doom.

pirate_jack

In the end, everything works out, more or less. He doesn't have his sanity, no, but a man can get by without that. What's important is that he's got his ship again-- and a beauty she is, all black with black sails that stand out boldly against the blue Caribbean sky.

(And if most men would be worried about the deal he'd made to get the Black Pearl back, well, he's not one of them. There's thirteen years yet before the bill he owes Davy Jones comes due, and Captain Jack Sparrow's certain he'll have figured something out by then.)

He's got a fine compass, bartered from the Lady herself, what he's certain will lead to all sorts of interesting places. He's got a crew, or most of one; he's even got a heading-- the mythical Isla de Muerta, where it's said that the treasure of Cortez himself lies hidden.

Now all he needs is rum. Jack weaves his way down the muddy Tortuga street, ducks through the door of the nearest tavern, and instantly brightens.

"Ah." A beat, and a fascinated look around the room. "Now that's more than a mite unusual. Don't believe I've been here before."

[OOC: Please see this back room post for details!]

[Also OOC: ~~And slowtime, please. The player is off to work, where there is no LJ access-- but will return afterwards and will pick up any and all threads, existing or new, at that point. Thanks!~~ And back!]

kittehnpip.livejournal.com

The front door bursts open and two cats come tumbling arse-over-teakettle into Milliways.

They're clearly not ordinary cats. Most house cats aren't quite that large, for one thing. Neither are they bipedal, nor dressed in clothes that look like they were stolen from the set of O Brother, Where Art Thou?.

They pick themselves up off the floor and take a look at their surroundings. "Iz not boxcar," says the smaller of the two.

The larger cat's eyes light up upon glimpsing Bar herself. "No, iz SPEAKEASY!"

no_justice

He's by the fireplace today on one of those very comfortable armchairs. His feet are crossed up on the coffee table and there's a copy of the Times open over his face. The tool of his trade is resting against the chair back, in easy reach for when he gets up.

It's a very odd position to find a skeleton in, but this is Milliways, after all.

red-cg-insanity.livejournal.com

Hex sat at a table in the bar, an energy shake at her elbow.

She looked pensive.

She was thinking about something that was begining to worry her. She could not put her finger on it though.

Her face changed from pensive, to angry. All fangs and rage. Her moods continued to spiral out of control.

feminine-menace.livejournal.com

YT sits at the Bar, plucking the fabric of a folded blue dress with one hand and holding half-empty pint glass in the other. The dress was a gift from Merlin, who returned to his own world while she was away fighting Daemon. It's not like his departure was totally unexpected. They both knew that what they had wasn't long-term, and could end on short (if any) notice. So no harm, no foul, right?

Right?

Well, no foul, anyway.

This Kourier could probably use some cheering up.

[OOC: Warning for sporadic slowtimes throughout the evening.]

kinshou-kitsune.livejournal.com

Sometimes even kami need breaks from planing and plotting. Which is why there is a ball of white fluff curled up in one of the tables centers. Two sleepy blue eyes can barely be seen peeking out between what looks like four tails that have helped to create the ball-ish shape of the little kitsune.

Anyone is welcome to come poke the ball-o-fluff..just..don't be to surprised at how the little fox may react.

brotherspider

Spider has, suffice to say, taken a long time to succumb to the bizarre foodstuffs, largely because he was the son of a god. But eventually, without knowing it, he became...a street urchin! Without knowing it.

"Ooohh... Don't think I've ever felt a headache like that."

Pause.

"I said, I don't think I've ever..."

Another pause.

"...felt a..."

His voice sounded distinctly younger than normal. Something wasn't right here. Going over to the bar, Spider asked for an ordinary mirror and...

"Whoa! Either dad isn't as dead as I thought he was or I'm in ALOT of trouble!"

He looked nothing like his former self...

red-cg-insanity.livejournal.com

Hex sat outside of the Bar looking at the night sky, she was amazed at how beautiful it all was. She wondered if back home people would stop fearing her, should she even care?

She pulled at the grass. She was lonely, mainly because the sprites she knew were afraid of her and because she didn't know anyone here. Oh well, she would have to find someone who wasn't.

"I am better," she said to herself," I haven’t turned anyone into cookies for a minute or two, and I haven't tried to destroy mainframe of late either."

Hex sighed.

brotherspider

The following email was sent to Strong Bad of Strong Bad Email via Spider Nancy's super-awesome laptop. It went like this...

Dear Strong Bad,

I heard that a man arrived in Milliways who is deathly afraid of zombies recently. This place is immune to zombie attack, but I thought it would be fun to cause a little mischief. Could you, The Cheat, and some grape jelly meet me outside to formulate a fiendish plan?

Signed,
Spider Nancy

Spider was, in fact, sitting outside...with a lawnchair, and a small table with Hawaiian drinks on it, and another table for his laptop. If this were a piece of art, we'd have to call it "Spider in Repose".

brotherspider

Picture the following... In the middle of the bar, a man stands in a cleared-out area, doing...something. He is sharply-dressed in black, wearing a blindfold and swinging a long object in practice. The thing that he is swinging is a black skull-cane. The blindfold appears to be his black tie. There is a black portable karaoke machine, playing something very calm and samurai-like. This is what seems to be happening: Spider Nancy is training himself to blind-fight, as if carrying a sword. There is no explanation as to why, but he is doing it, and that is all that matters.

He is botherable, but only as the pebble disturbs the surface of the pond.

blue_raz

Raziel was still sitting at the bar flipping his proverbial coin. He'd been at it for hours. He flipped, it landed heads up. Again, He flipped, it landed tails up.

He is distract able, or at least talked too.

sinisteressex.livejournal.com

Essex is in bar, reading a book. It might be a tome of scientific secrets, or it might be a Sherlock Holmes anthology. Either way, it has obviously engrossed him. There's a partially eaten bagel next to the book, which is shrinking slowly.

But nothing is as interesting as the patrons of the bar, from what he's seen. He keeps glancing up as they go by.

mnt_mike

"He didn't!"

"He did?"

"So what did you do?"

"You didn't...oh no, of course you did. MapleBaby, you've really got to learn to say no to people."

"HEY! That was uncalled for. Don't get snippy at me for just stating the obvious. Sheesh."

"Okay okay okay. Think, Mike, think.....I've got it."

Mike pushes a tower of pie to the side, making a space just large enough for him to stand on Bar's top. His eyes just barely clearing one of the towers of pie.

"This isn't going to work. Can you get rid of these?"

"No I know, just do what you can. What you can't get rid of I'll take care of....one way or another"

He clears his throat.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I'M NOT SURE IF YOU'VE NOTICED, BUT WE'RE SORT OF INUNDATED WITH PIE HERE. NOW SOME OF YOU MAY NOT REALIZE THIS, BUT STUFF DOESN'T JUST COME FROM NO WHERE. PIES DO NOT, IN FACT, GROW ON TREES. AND THESE? WELL THEY'RE GOING TO NEED REPLACING. SO STEP RIGHT UP AND DO YOUR PART.

THE GREAT PIE OFF OF...um...TODAY HAS BEGUN."

Mike jumps down, nearly knocking over a pile of pies in the process. Soon the great boxing of the remaining pies will begin. Followed quickly by the labelling of the pies in the native tongues of the worlds from which they came.

brotherspider

A bizarre phenomenon began to occur as soon as the official time-date of Spider Nancy's personal chronometer said 3/14.

Calculators failed and computers cheered. Mathimaticians went hog-wild and students ran amok. And this wasn't even Spider's fault. Apparently, they did that sort of thing on their own, but the god-son himself had different plans. Oh yes.

There was a sign posted for all to see...

PIE FIGHT TODAY!
ALL YOU CAN DISH OUT!

Yours Pastry,
Spider

Spider Nancy was nowhere to be seen, but that was only because he was standing behind the bar...which was itself surrounded by an impregnable wall of pie. Trays of pie-slots with tiny labels as to what kind of pie were here, as per his request. He had asked Bar to make possible a Pi Day Pie FIght by continuously producing pie for the occasion. Thus...pie. Spider stood and waited. Would people gorge? Or would they give in to...temptation?

the-h-star-r.livejournal.com

Here's an interesting sight. It's not exactly common, but it's not exactly new either.

Homestar is once again hiding beneath a table, safely guarded by the seats of a booth.

He's also eating a tasty lunch of Buffalo chicken bites and a tall, cold glass of milk, the latter he has just in case he starts breathing fire.

Don't come near him if you have grape jelly coming out of your mouth. He might start launching ketchup packets or, Heaven forbid, buttdance.

forgoodorforawesome

They're not actually sittin' at the Compy while Strong Bad checks his email. For one thing, the Compy is de-funked. For another, this is the bar, not Strong Bad's computer room. For a third, he's not checkin' his email.

It's just that this was the best picture the mun could find of Strong Bad and The Cheat hangin' out together, and he decided it's about time the two pups got such a pic. So here it is, and here they are, both botherable.

Current Mood: chillin'
Current Music: The system -- is down, yo.

revdubya.livejournal.com

A man with an enormous cowboy hat and a disturbingly empty-headed smirk swaggers into the bar.

"YEEEHAW! The Reverend Dubya Bush is back in town, and he's gonna hunt down the Great Satan wherever he lurketh! The Moron Church and the Ministry of N. Ron. Hubbard won't be stopped this time!"

badinlatin

"I know, I know already..." Mal seems to be mumbling more to himself than anyone else around him as he hops behind the counter and declares himself on the blackboard:

Horribly Late Specials:
Any drink with something related to time in the title is half off.

Take advantage.

[ooc: On 'jacked internet and on meebo with no real AIM. Meebo is strange. I am not ignoring you, I promise. :-* ETA: The 'jacked internet is now no longer possible to be jacked. In slowtime for any who want to.]

callitavesper.livejournal.com

James is what we'll call restless.

He may not look it, as he's staring directly out the Observation Window without moving a muscle, but then staring at a perpetually moving light display is one of the last refuges of boredom, isn't it? So he's at the table by the Observation Window, the one he hasn't sat in for a while, the one he used to smoke at before popular demand said he shouldn't.

He's thinking a trip home may be in the cards, and soon.

[ ooc: i will be shoving james out of the bar soon--maybe tonight, maybe later, but soon! he'll be back, though. thursday-ish. or however long i can go without playing him.

and now i vanish for great 'sleep.' james bond mun will return in 'tagging you back tomorrow'! ]

Current Mood: restless

brotherspider

[OOC: Okay guys, you know what this is about. Time for some trouble!]

The best way to get things done was not necessarily to do it yourself. You can say that the only way to get it done right is to do it yourself, but to do so when you needed to be in multiple places? Uh-uh. You need people to help you, people you can count on. Now, fortunately, he had managed to do that now. The stage was set, but none of the 'players' were in yet. Long story short, he expected Ray Stantz to be rushing in for some reason at some point, and for YT to be ready...as he's alerted her. The messenger would know what to do, when he was ready. Operation "Secret Notes In Class" was prepared. Now, if only that damn rabbit would show up. Anyway, Spider waited patiently in a corner booth, twirling a cane that he had gotten from...somewhere.

wild_blueyonder

First, the humble origins.

And then.

The front door opens, as it so often does, and in enters a new face. It is a face surrounded by a blue cowl and belonging to a tall, very big guy in a blue bug suit. He pauses when he sees his new surroundings as the door closes behind him. He’d been writing on the pad of yellow paper he’s still got in his hands but right now his hands are still, and so are the blue antennae sticking up from the top of his head. Blue eyes roam over the room with a steel gaze, and then the man straightens up, hands going to hips in a heroic pose and then…he goes into a soliloquy.

“He stands triumphant, surveying this new place and amazed by the mysteries within. He is a stoic figure that is a monument to justice and all that is right, and good, and cool. Today the universe served him a victory sandwich and oh boy, did he eat it. Yes. Indeed. He did.

“And now, with pad and pen in hand he takes stock and survey of the groovy new place he has come to call home. For villainy makes itself a laundry list of bad everyday and what better way to combat that, then a grocery list of the things that will be used to kick evil’s keister right out of the laundry mat like a bum with no quarters? Sorry bad guys, lady justice doesn’t make change.”

There are probably a few people who wonder ‘who is that big blue guy standing in front of the door talking to himself?’. Milliways, he is- The Tick.

wyrd-fox.livejournal.com

BAM!

That was the sound of the Door swinging open to crash flat against the adjoining wall.

"WAAAAAAHHHHH!!!"

That is the sound of a kitsune on an out-of-control unicycle.

"Comin' through! Look out below! Mayday! Mayday!"

Might be you should take his advice and hit the deck.

bloodandnicotine

"Grr. Argh."

Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Spike stumbles down the stairs, one hand on the rail. So many late nights working at the Brothel, well, he's bound to be a little tired.

"Blood. No, coffee."

He stops, an idea forming in his mind.

"Coffee brewed with blood?"

A hot steaming mug appears on the bar. Spike sips, tenatively, then smiles.

"Ah, much better love, thanks."