milliways_bar | Entries tagged with splinter

Captain Malcolm Reynolds needs to update his paperwork. Falsified documents take so much looking after. So for all onlookers, Mal looks like he's trying to write the most scattered of novels.

There is also beer. But that part's normal.

realmrsreynolds

[Over the holidays: "Is Ginacorano a beer?"]

realmrsreynolds

In the Staff Wing: a party!

mnt_mike

Mike is seated at Bar.
His expression one of...horror.
Abject.
Utter.
Complete.
Horror.

His eyes dart left.
They dart right.

"I need an adult!"

[OOC Notes: Not for threading, just for reactions.
Mike doesn't hear the conversation, nor see in his mind's eye the goings on. What he experiences are impressions filtered through Bar.

But let's face it, even that...is probably still too much.]

srspirate

What is this?

A lively tune?

Your host is inspired to dance!

Those who enter the bar today may notice more than the usual commotion. There is music, a table tucked in a corner for receiving gifts, and a festive banner. It has flamingos on it. Pink ones.

In addition, there is a modest sandwich board set on the Bar with the following proclamation in festive script:

La Fête Spectaculaire!
Dinah Lance Party
Anything served in the half-shell is free
Do try the coconut punch
Follow the rose petals
➸

A scattering of rose petals lead the way outside, along the path to the beach.

(OoC: Welcome to the cross-community going away party/housewarming for

innerbrat & Dinah Lance! [details and announcement] This is a standard party post; shenanigans and thread-hopping are encouraged. For your convenience, an OoC thread has been set up at the end of the post for communicating, plotting, and sending some OoC love and well-wishes to the lovely Debi. Debi and I can be found on AIM as well and in crackchat off and on all weekend. So please stop by! Thanks everybody, let's have some fun and show Debi some love. ♥

ETA: Just as an aside, the "bring a present or duel" thing was entirely for the lulz. Your pups aren't obligated to one or the other unless they want to, and this remains completely open to everyone! XD)

realmrsreynolds

[ooc: Maybe it's a cosmic hint to do something.]

realmrsreynolds

[The lakeside: Awkward.]

realmrsreynolds

[OOM: So remember what I was like when I started teaching? Yeah.

Five months later, here's what Splinter got Sallie for her birthday.]

mnr_splinter

"Hmmm," says the man as he peruses his cards. His is not the best of all possible hands, but he's determined to make the best of them. After all, what kind of ninja would he be if he couldn't make the absolute best of a questionable situation?

Still...formulating a plan takes time, and so he'll need to stall.
Thankfully, there's tea to sip.

Surely a son wouldn't begrudge his father a nice calming sip of tea.

...

Or four.

boston_bruiser

As a SWO, familiarity with your own weapons is a necessary part of the job, but an appreciation for and familiarity with the enemy's weapons is icing on the cake.

Which is why Voodoo's at the firing range, doing some fire-and-movement drills with an old SVT-40.

It's nothing fancy - basically sprinting from cover to cover, firing a couple of quick shots at a target, rinsing, and repeating.

John's tried to keep himself preoccupied as he waits for Kate to come back. But the shooting range isn't his thing, and he doesn't keep a horse in the stable for riding.

Spending his days reading in the library has helped wile away the time some, but the appeal of that didn't last forever.

Which is why he's currently in a booth, engaged in a game of chess with a waitrat.

They're about halfway through. So far it's a tie.

Mako still doesn't know what to make of this place quite yet.

He's resorted to taking a booth by The Window and staring out, watching the patterns and implosions write themselves into the cosmos over and over again.

It hasn't made him feel any better about figuring this place out so far.

[OOC: To make it easier on both of us, please say who you're tagging in the subject line. Thanks, and have fun!]

mnt_mike

Splinter:

Out by the Lake, on a hillside that overlooks the island where the Loompas continue to construct their beer bottle temple, sits a man in a maroon kimono. While he appears to be in a deeply meditative state the extra blanket to his left , along with the extra blanket to his right indicates that he could be expecting someone.

You, perhaps.

-----------------

Bumi:

There's a table by the Observation Window mostly covered by various maps of The World. Or...at very least The World as Commander Bumi knows it. He's leaning on one elbow as he pours over the maps, a cup of very strong tea in his free hand. The bright red overcoat of Bumi's United Forces uniform is draped on the chair back behind him.

He will figure this out. He will.

-----------------

Mike:

The Staff Hallway door swings open and a severely sleep deprived looking Mike emerges in pajama pants, a bathrobe, and bunny slippers. He yawns as he shuffles towards Bar and occupies a stool towards her middle.

The moment he settles an English muffin with strawberry jam appears along side a large glass of water and a couple of Advil Liquigels. Mike smiles, and is just about to partake of them when something catches his eye.

Something in her finish that...either he never noticed before, or is entirely new.

He moves his plate to get a better look, his eyes widening as he does so.

There.
In the center of Bar's top.
Inlaid among the grain.

A symbol which almost resembles an X'd out circle.

[For the sake of clarity, please specify who you're tagging...if anyone, in the subject line. My inbox thanks you in advance.]

spit_it_out

The door opens, admitting a smell of cold steel and engine oil. Anyone sitting nearby might be able to see the interior of a cargo ship behind the man standing on the threshold.

'O...kaaaay.'

Bruce Banner is an unprepossessing kind of guy. Average height, average build, dark hair and eyes, glasses. Slacks and shirt neither expensive nor cheap - though if you want to know why he's dressed like that on a cargo ship, you'll have to ask.

Likewise, if you want to know why the expression on his face is some distance past 'worried'. Especially when the door closes behind him, and he finds he can't open it again.

'OK, this...

...isn't great.'

Help?

[OOC: A note or two on things here! Please to be reading if you're interested in tagging. And please, only one intro thread. If more than one person tags, assume he's either at the bar with a (non-alcoholic, non-caffeinated) drink, or looking out the Observation Window. Your choice.

~~I'll be here for a little more than three hours, then slowtime will be in effect.~~ Slowtime it is, you gorgeous people. Post open for a few days, though. Thank you all! :D]

slayer_fray

It has been a while.

Two whole weeks, for Mel.

She was sulking, then she was shouting at her sister. And then there was an apocalypse, and then Gunther dropped two ridic jobs on her in a row and she hardly had time to wink in the middle, and then there was talk of an apocalypse, but it turned out to be some demon talking big and she killed him, and then she realized that a) she wasn't sulking anymore and b) she really ought to go back to the bar, as much as she doesn't really want to.

So.

Your favorite Vampire Slayer (unless you count Buffy and Faith) is standing in the door, finally, giving the bar in general the side-eye.

"How long was I gone?"

mnr_splinter

Splinter's not sure how long the strange little orange men who live in the walls have been working on what ever it is that they're working on, but if their count down is any indication, there are 867,530 bottles of beer left on the wall.

What wall? He has no idea, but it surely it is a rather vast one to hold so many empty green and brown bottles.

From his favorite meditation spot he has a perfect view of the island in the Lake where they're placing the bottles mosaic-style into wet cement. Already some spiral patterns are emerging, and Splinter has no doubt that the structure well be quite lovely when it is completed.

mnr_splinter

[OOM: The Fray-Hamato Household

Where nothing what so ever happens, and life continues apace.

realmrsreynolds

["Once you get in my head, you'll be able to come up with all the answers pretty easy."]

realmrsreynolds

[OOM, in Mike's suite: For wanting...]

mnr_splinter

On one of the furthest edges of the Lake, beyond the Willow and the Caribbean outlet, there is a outcropping of rocks that reach from the sandy shore into the deep dark water. From this vantage point one can easily view the many islands that dot the waters, a vast majority of the shore line, as well as Milliways herself.

It is here that Splinter has sought refuge.
To meditate.
Ruminate.
And seek peace from prying eyes.

Which is really just a fancy ninja way of saying that he's hiding.

mnr_splinter

[OOM: In which nothing what-so-ever important happens in this thread....in New York.]

And what doesn't happen there, certainly has no effect on the fact that a small blue pinprick of light appears behind Bar. It certainly doesn't expand from a point to a line to a rectangle. And there's no way possible that this section of wall swings outward like a door.

It would stretch credulity far too thin to say that from this door steps Sallie Reynolds and Hamato Splinter, so we won't mention it.

mnr_splinter

[In which nothing important what so ever happens.]

realmrsreynolds

[OOM in the Staff Wing:

"And that's why you're the schmoopiest."]

mnr_splinter

Out by the Lake, on one of the flatter sections of land nearest the Caribbean Inlet, stand three figures with arms raised in defensive positions.

All are barefoot.
Two are shirtless, with colored bandannas tied and covering the tops of their heads.
One red.
The other orange.

Leading the two is the rat nearly four foot in height.

Their motions are smooth and precise as they work their way through the forms they've practiced for quite literally years.

[Multi-pup post!]

mnt_mike

[OOM: Infirmary and then the Fray-Hamato Flat

Mike gets his discharge from the Infirmary, and Guppy is a genius.

Which quickly leads to moving day

Starring: Guppy, Michaelangelo, Raphael, Donatello, Leonardo, Sallie, Splinter and X-23.]

mnt_raph

[OOM: previously ]

To those lacking in third sight, the view around the Lost and Found box hasn't changed much in the last twelve days. It's still sitting lidless in the middle of the bar, and the same gruff looking bald man in black is still keeping watch.

But...for those lucky enough to be able to view the subtle and sublime, something wondrous is about to occur. A ghostly three-fingered hand reaches up from the depths of the box grabbing the edge. Slowly what appears to be a large mutant turtle emerges from the box. Draped over one of the turtle's shoulders, fireman's carry style, is the still form of...something.

Seconds after the turtle clears the box a medium sized beach balls rolls up the inside edge of the box, bounds out, and comes to rest next to the ankle of the bald man.

The bald man doesn't react to the turtle, or what ever the turtle is carrying, but the beach ball...that gets his attention. Admittedly, it's kind of hard to miss it when a beach ball appears to be nuzzling your leg.

"What tha'..."

mnr_splinter

The narration hopes that no one currently using the Infirmary has a problem with the light aroma of incense.

Or a bunch of candles. Lit candles.

Or...the nearly four foot rat currently meditating crosslegged in the chair closest to Michaelangelo.

Because...if they do they can tell him themselves, the narration wants no part of that conversation. And good luck to anyone who attempts to get the old rat to move.