milliways_bar | Entries tagged with steve mcgarrett

Zinda's good cheer is never fully diminished, but there are a few clouds graying up her sunny sky today. Still, she's whistling as she strolls into the bar, kitted out in full uniform: every pleat on her skirt ironed to a precise knife-sharp edge, her gloves spotless white, her hat and boots polished until they shine. The poppy on her breast is as red as fresh blood. If she looks like she was lifted straight from a Memorial Day parade, it's because...

Well, she was.

She parks her shapely behind on a barstool and lays a white-gloved hand gently on the glossy wooden bartop.

"Champers, if you please, missy," she says, and smiles when the glass and bottle materialize. "You're aces, hon."

A few photos get laid out carefully next to the glass: black-and-white shots of a bunch of flyboys, mostly. She sets them all out and fills her glass, then lifts it.

"You're on the wing, fellas," she tells them. "At ease."

[Tiny tag: Zinda Blake]

ikissdhimbck

Anyone in the main barroom or out by the lake today will be treated to an odd sight. Dozens of girls, shouting, squealing, running through the backdoor and across the lawn, arms laden with all manner of treats — and one boy, tied up, pulled along with them.

The gang makes their way to the forest, where a tree fort rises above the ground. It's quite a fancy fort, equipped with slingshots, water balloon launchers, and other weaponry and defenses. The interior paneling has some Cybertronian script on it. There's a tire swing outside fashioned from a tractor tire, a crow's nest, and the entrance may be had by ladder, drawbridge, or manual elevator. Inside there are comics, pudding snacks, and the sort of things you'd expect to see in a tree house. It was clearly designed by somebody who really loved their gadgets, and knew what they were doing.

Kate and Natasha have seized the property. Being outlaws in need of a hideout, and all.

"This way!"

Natasha is already inside, leaving all entrances open to the returning posse and offering cover from anyone who might be following. Once the snacks are secured and the prisoner is dealt with, everyone can breathe a huge sigh of relief.

And enjoy the fruits of their labor.

[ooc: ~~give us one minute to set up some thread headings before tagging~~ We're open for business! This post is wide, wide open to everyone — boy, girl, adult, child, animal, mineral, etc. The girls will be inside the tree fort, but it's completely visible from the ground for any who want to stop by and see what's going on, or sneak their way in. ^__^

tiny!tag: age spell plot]

ikissdhimbck

[Earlier...

I needed ~~money~~ ice cream 'cause I
had none
I fought the law and the
kids won
I fought the law and the
kids won

Warnings for mild language, because some ~boy~ has a potty mouth. ^__~ Many thanks to all participants, particularly Ashie, who battled through illness to be such a big part of such a fun plot. You are all wonderful. Party post forthcoming.]

tiny!tag: age spell plot

Current Music: "I Fought the Law" by The Bobby Fuller Four

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)

herr_bookman

The sun silently beats down on the grounds, waves of heat radiating off of everything. But then, a soft rumble begins. It grows louder and louder, starting in the mountains and crashing down down down until a great roaring avalanche of snow arrives...

( Ice, ice, baby. )

Once the rink is complete, the boy heads off to help an industrious ten-year-old set up the food and drinks table. There are some things too heavy for Rae to lift.

[Credit to the respective muns for their pups' part in the EP! Standard party post rules apply, all tags welcome.]

thebesteverseen

[OOM:

"Good luck, Aquaman!"

]

herr_bookman

There is a note on the bulletin board today for those interested, with the handwriting made anonymous by clever spellwork:

ATTENTION
A portion of the lake will be frozen over next Thursday for ice skating, with an avalanche of snow courtesy of Rabastan and Mia. There will be no lip or barrier around the edges, so do try not to fall in.

Also, it is imperative that the lake denizens come to no harm. Anyone caught doing so will be eaten.
Alive.

[OOC: Reaction tags only, please! <3]

holy_or_broken

[Pre-Milliways: Dedication Day.]

Jack Benjamin -- or Prince Jonathan of Gilboa, but he won't insist -- steps into the Bar and closes the door on the party behind him. As confusing as it is to find a bar in the palace, he's got a look of eager anticipation.

"What is this place?"

[tiny tag: Jack Benjamin]

[ooc: Adult content shenanigans in the Ganymede thread.]

gavin62truck

An on-duty firefighter sneaks into the bar, and deposits himself onto a stool at the most isolated end of the counter. After glancing around to make sure that a certain someone isn't present, he turns to speak in quick, hushed tones at the wooden surface.

"Okay, here's the thing. There's a necklace in the New York Public Library gift shop that I need to get, it's, like, silver and has a quote from Shakespeare on it--"

A photo of the pendant appears.

"Yeah, that's the one. ...How did you--? Never mind. But it's kinda pricey and I don't get my paycheck for another two weeks, so I was wondering if you could maybe, y'know, give it to me for a little cheaper, and I'll pay you back in bartending shifts--"

The photo disappears, replaced by a napkin with a figure on it.

Tommy regards it, tics his head.

"Well, y'know, I was kinda hoping I could get a firefighter's discount, since, y'know, saving lives an' all, I'd think it was a universal thing--"

Another napkin with another figure.

Still reluctant to give in on the price, he supposes he's still getting a bargain.

"Alright, deal."

A flat, dove gray jewelry box appears, the lid embossed with the NYPL logo of a stylized lion head. Before anybody can notice (at least, Tommy hopes), he quickly slips it into one of his pockets.

"Thanks."

A beat.

"Can I get a ham sandwich while I'm here?"

And Bar is ever generous. But she'll be getting a few shifts out of Tommy in the future, so it's all good.

tiny tag: Scootaloo

holds_her_own

Great, more paperwork.

A woman of average height and medium build, wearing a blue uniform and sidearm, walks in. Her eyes shift around the room, hand darting for her weapon.

"Anyone mind explaining what the fuck is going on? I'm armed, and extremely annoyed."

It's worse than dangerous.

Welcome to Milliways, Agent Hill.

[OoC: Eventually, Hill will make her way to the Bar and receive the note Clint left for her, so if you'd prefer to skip past the Welcome To Milliways chat, I'm cool with that! If you have any questions about Hill, see here, ~~and I'm also on AIM and in crackchat as LordoLorien. Thanks!~~ ETA: As of 3am EST, I'm heading to bed. Consider this post open to new tags indefinitely. Thank you, everyone! ♥]

electro_kinetic

Outside in cutoff shorts and an oversized workout shirt, there is a Noriko attacking one of the heavy bags. She's making it move, though, beginning to sweat as she bounces on her toes. Clearly she's a little ticked off, but given she's not yelling at the bag ~~not that it hasn't crossed her mind~~ it might not be easy to tell who she's mad at.

Have fun watching, or try to interrupt her--your call.

hasthehighground

Why is Clint Barton in the rafters, when he's by all rights way too old and (by some accounts) dignified to climb up there?

Well. He was drinking his morning coffee when some thing touched the back of his foot with a long tendril, and all he saw was its weird misshapen form skittering away.

It was weird, okay? Anyway. He's sitting on a rafter, watching the room below, with a mug of coffee in his hands and a jar of peanuts next to him.

[tiny tag: creepy doll
ooc: No new threads, unless we've talked about it :)! I'll be around this weekend, but I am at this point Friday asleep.]

aaaaaaaagh_sky

A ferry showed up at the Potomac riverbank near Rivet City today. A ferry. An actual working boat.

Ellen's having some difficulty wrapping her mind around this prospect, and so she is doing something in Milliways to keep her hands busy while she turns the thought over a bit, namely embroidery. She's no artist, but she can follow a pattern, and it's not like she hasn't sewn the Brotherhood emblem on a flag before.

So, one grey-haired young woman with a face full of scars and several notches in one ear, quietly stitching a pattern of a sword and gears and wings onto a sizable sheet of canvas, and thinking, and probably distractable. (Also there is a dog at her feet, but the dog is chewing on what appears to be a large piece of extra tough jerky, and so he is less distractable than the human.)

thebesteverseen

[Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey, Adopted-pup, pick-up, drop-in, etc.
Open until he gets another ep or has an oom.]

Steve's still got a folder open in his hands, when he looks up in the middle of that first step, before his foot lands, in that bar. Which isn't the bullpen. What with all the noise. The space. The people.

He only gives the closed door behind him a look, for not being an open doorway. Or his File Room. Maybe he meant to shrug. He doesn't. But he doesn't try the door either.

He goes back to the file in hand, headed for the bar.

He'll decided between coffee and a Longboard when he gets there.

bookemdanno

Steve walks in to the bar. He then walks to the bar sitting on the stool. ordering a Longboard he's in the mood to share if you stop by he may even spring for you one as well.

bookemdanno

Steven walks in as he takes a slow look around. This isn't where he wanted to be! He wanted to be at his favorite hole in the wall place for some Loco Moco. With a heavy sigh he sets down at the bar asking Bar for some hoping that it's as good as the islands. (Almost never anywhere off island is the same.)

After getting it he goes to settle in to a booth with coconut water. Come by to bother him or simply ask what is that you're eating?

awesome_lilly

Lilly's been in and out of bar more often recently than she has in... well. Her personal clock is very timey-wimey these days.

Still, if she's going to be spending more time here, she needs a room again. So she's perched on a bar stool, discussing accommodations with Bar.

"Okay, what have you got in tasteful yet luxurious suites? And just so you know, the hot tub is not optional."

haole_cop

Some days, the job gets to you.

Some days, it's all shootouts, drug busts, bulletproof vests, Steve shouting orders, and chaos. Some days, they don't win.

Some days, you know, some days, it is just straight up bizarre, okay, some days it's all about island culture that he doesn't get, Steven, because it doesn't make sense. Dealing with Kawika and the kapu, is it really necessary? Were the Blue Hawaiians? And just what, really, what is island time, because it seems to shift depending on who is waiting and who is doing whatever it is people do here. Surf. Spearfish. Get attacked by sharks.

He thinks his tongue is still blue.

At least his knee is feeling a little better, and he's got his cane slung across his shoulders, adding a little sway and swagger to his step as he heads out of the office and straight into, oh, hey, look at that. Turning, he glances through the door, where he can see Chin bent over the computer in the war room, the office quiet with Kono away at the memorial service, so he shuts it behind him, heads on into the bar.

"Please," he says, sliding onto a stool, fingers pinching together, specificity in every motion. "I beg of you. A beer. Just a beer. Brown, carbonated, untouched by fruit. A pils would be great. Lager. Perfect. Anything at all. Save me from cocktails, all right? Not that there's anything wrong with cocktails. Call it a personal preference, okay, nothing against anyone else, but me, personally, I like my drinks not the color of the rainbow. Please."

As he waits, he opens his mouth, checks his tongue in the mirror behind the bar, and sighs, the deep, shoulder-heaving sigh of a man whose world has simply stopped making sense.

Still blue.

That's just perfect.

bookemdanno

Walking in to the bar he wrinkles his nose drawing his eyebrows together. A slow look around tells him he's back in this place. He's got his clothes and shoes this time. So that's an improvement.

He's armed the gun on his belt. His badge also plainly in sight. Crossing his arms over his chest he takes a deep breath. While this wasn't the break room it will do.

Settling down on the couch he tries to decide if he's brave enough to order from a rat.

Come bother him, annoy him or just make him talk.

bookemdanno

Steven J. McGarrett isn't a man you can surprise. He prides himself in this. That's why he finds himself at a lose as to why he's in a bar instead of his shed. It would also explain why he's wearing boardies and carrying a surfboard sans shoes. His hair is wet, and he has a towel around his shoulders and arms covering his tattoos. Walking to the bar he lays his hand on it to look around for someone behind it to talk to.

Picking up the note that appears on the napkin by his hand he reads it shrugging. He can do this. Leaning his board against the bar he puts his hands on the bar heaving himself over to stand behind it. No he can not just walk around. It's not in his nature.

Picking up the chalk he writes specials.

Specials

Mai Tai
Piña Colada or Chi Chi
Tropical Itch
Longboards

Welcome to Milliways Steve.

[Tiny Tag: Danny Williams, Steve McGarrett]

[OOC: Open until next Steve post. Tread up and half fun. Ask why he's half naked. He can handle it. He's a SEAL after all.]

will_scarlett

Its time to go back, Will's standing at a table wearing his jerkin and cloak, his quiver on his back, longbow and sword at his side.

He asked Bar for clothing to help those coming blend in and so there's a pile of medieval outfits on the table, a tankard he keeps drinking from though the bruise on his chin from sparring with John hasn't faded yet.

There are a few people he's keeping an eye out for, some to speak to before he leaves and others to come with him, they all offered, he just wishes this was over.

ETA(OOC: There is now a comment at the bottom of the page with a link to the OOMs.

(OOC: Not plotlocked at all though only a few will be going through the door. Seminar is finished and I'm back for the rest of the day.)

gorgonfondness

Oh no.

Not here.

Anywhere but here, please!

And for a few moments, there was a skittery sort of otter looking for something, anything to cover up with.

Please let her find a blanket in time.

Please!

Plea-

PROWM!

And that pink blanket that, for one brief moment, held an otter just got a whole lot shapelier.

Not a moment too soon for the somewhat frantic Guildmaster.

Unless you're Draco Malfoy or someone who can convince her that a toga party would be a good idea, she likely won't want to talk to you for long before rushing up to her room and getting something more suitable on.

sanguimmuno.livejournal.com

This is highly regular for this establishment, this randomness- the funny feelings, the sudden changes, the awkward skin molting.

Salazar Slytherin, once an animal, now a man.

Now, actually, a naked man. Hr-rm, goes the thought process.

"Accio wand." Beat. "And robes."

Afterthought? Perish the thought!

[ooc: Okay, I have been hit with a massive headache, so I'm going to bed. Tag me and we'll slow-time it!]

creator_raven

There is a quiet thump as a black-feathered bird drops from the rafters, landing neatly in a chair.

A moment later that same chair is occupied by a man with dark hair and bright black eyes.

Some things, it seems, cross forms rather well.

Other things, like his dusty jeans and raggedy black coat, do not.

It is the problem with feathers.

Sort of.

Well, that, and the immense mess a beak makes of cookies. They are better inhaled whole. This is why Raven appreciates the approach of a waitrat bearing an enormous plate of cookies.

The bird is hungry, today.

And every day.

It is a thing.

watchmakers_son

Sylar hasn't eaten anything, ordered by himself or not, since walking into Milliways a few days ago and finding it teeming with animals that didn't (tICk) quite sound like (ttticK) animals.

Sometimes, however, precaution only goes so far. Especially if it's precaution in the wrong direction.

During one particular long and barren stretch of highway in rural Ohio, Mohinder, with the passion of a true professor, spent fifteen minutes describing in a rapid-fire cadence how the cockroach was the pinnacle of the evolutionary ladder. Strangely enough, Sylar isn't deriving much comfort from that at the moment.

What he's doing instead is perching on a chair back, motionless save the wary twitching of his antennae, as he struggles to interpret his new senses.

[ooc: eep! I love you all, but please no more new threads. *drowns*]