milliways_bar | Entries tagged with styx

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

Jack Frost stumbles into the bar, fresh from Nepal and looking like he's never ever been happier in his entire life.

All he needs is some food to bring back.

But he can stand to get a drink of fresh water, first.

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

Jack Frost is not sure
Why we are using haiku
But will roll with it.

ironside-pixie.livejournal.com

[OOM: 'She is the mirror of my heart' - At the river, things are set to right.]

Current Mood: happy

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

Jack of the Frost is back in the bar, with a box. He's trying to tie ribbon around it, like a present, and it's failing utterly.

Ribbon is too damned fiddly.

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

So, Christmas is over, and Jack survived it. He's in the bar, curled up in a chair eating a cranberry roll. Next comes New Years, as he recalls, where everyone just gets really drunk. (That's the only point of it he could find.)

He has two pairs of sunglasses on the chair with him. A normal pair that he's contemplating, and a red heart shaped set that are going to be someone's Christmas gift when he tracks him down. That's the only present he's planning on giving this year.

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

Frost, looking mildly disturbed, is lounging in a chair in the middle of the bar.

He's also drinking a glass of something strange looking, and definitely alcoholic.

He needs it right now.

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

It has been an eventful few days, and Jack, looking a little worse for wear, is tucked in a booth. He's nursing a glass of water, and looking a little bit dazed.

(Strip clubs with Satan do that to a person.)

He's also clutching a certain note, looking a bit repentant.

stygian-promise.livejournal.com

People watching, one would suppose, is a much more intriguing activity when there are interesting people to watch. Not that there are any truly interesting people, dear. (Not after a couple millennia of them, at least.) But you make do with what you are given.

The coffee is pleasant enough, the seat is comfortable, and trouble has the most interesting habit of finding you precisely when and where you're not looking for it. Or looking to cause it.

So perhaps she watches – or perhaps she doesn't look at all. It's all a matter of opinion.

Or of what gets the better end result.

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

Jack of the Frost has not had any chocolate recently. He's in the bar, with a glass of water at his fingertips, which he's playing with absentmindedly as he watches the crowds around him.

Fascinating place.

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

[oom: Once upon a time there was a ballet.

Which is to say, millitimed to an age ago.]

ironside-pixie.livejournal.com

[OOM: Promises: Kaye makes a big mistake. And when Styx is involved there's no going back.]

Current Mood: scared

bright-burning.livejournal.com

Over in one corner of the bar, there's a reformed vampire and the usual cup of coffee. Mal appears to be rescuing a rather abused catnip mouse from the jaws of a large black cat, and could probably use a hand.

-

And in the other corner of the bar, there's a deity/personification of fire, lounging on a couch and sipping a glass of wine, absently flipping through a copy of All Quiet on the Western Front and watching the bar. As per the usual, she smells distinctly of woodsmoke, and there's a grey smear of ash on one cheek.

She's playing with a lighter in one hand, but don't worry. She won't light you on fire.

Probably.

[ooc: mun is doing schoolwork so possibly slow replies, tag one or t'other. say thankya!]

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

Okay, he's back. Jittery, (though he knows better than to show it,) and watching the bar from a place in the corner (where he can have his back to a wall) and fingers curled tight around his glass.

But he is here.

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

The nights are getting colder. Not winter yet, not by a far cry, but colder and there are some people who are glad of it.

Like the creature of winter, now sprawled on the bank of the lake, fingers curled around the stem of a glass of red wine.

Frost is surveying the water.

He almost gives the impression that he's looking for trouble.

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

Jack of the Frost is back again, this time coming through the door dressed in his old long black coat, looking windwhipped and flushed, as though he's been running.

He's also laughing, as he sags into a booth seat and tries to pull off his jacket.

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

With a disinterested smile on his face and a glass of chilled water in his hand, Frost is back in the bar. He's still intensely aware of the heat, which is why his shirt is open, and his shoes abandoned.

All the same, he feels well enough. For company, certainly.

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

It's like coming up for air. Like seeing again after weeks in the dark. Like finding your oldest, closest friend again.

Jack makes his way slowly towards the bar with a large smile.

tragic_mask

Melpomene sits in a dusky corner of the bar, watching the shouting, laughing people as they pass by. She looks restless, though her boots are crossed on the coffee table and her hands are calm as on each arm of the chair—like she's waiting for something.

In her right hand she holds a smouldering cigarette loosely, as she always does.

On the coffee table before her is a round container made of wood, deep black and shiny, like leather. It's not menacing in the least. Melpomene looks at it for a while, then leans forward to pick it up through a cloud of gently dissipating cigarette fumes.

There's a faint noise from inside the cup as her fingers settle around it. If you're not listening, you won't notice—

It's almost like the sound of rattling dice.

She shakes it back and forth softly, close to her ear. There's a small smile on her face, barely discernible. Melpomene looks up, sharply, at the rest of the bar, and raises her voice to cut through the noise.

"Anyone for a game of chance?"

[ooc: see this backroom post before tagging. grazi!]

stygian-promise.livejournal.com

It was dreadfully loud.

Normally this would be a pleasing thing, but sometimes the damned really needed to learn how to shut up. Really now, after an eternity one would imagine that you'd get used to it.

Really it was perfect - all chaos and darkness - but honestly all she wanted was a freaking cup of coffee. Please, even.

So there is a goddess seated neatly at a table, legs crossed elegantly and dark eyes shuttered under even darker lashes, coffee cup cradled reverently between long fingers.

Life is good.

oldromansaint.livejournal.com

Santino at bar a table, people-watching pleasently. In Soviet Russia, people watch you!

Come bother, before any more Yakov Smirnoff jokes let loose?

[OOC: ~~Mun must run for half-an-hour to an hourish. WILL reply to tags when I get back, of course.~~ Right, DEFINITELY back this time.]

stygian-promise.livejournal.com

The Lady is grumpy. (She would prefer another, more sophisticated, term but that would involve a great deal more effort then she is willing to deal with at this particular moment.)

This is, perhaps, a side effect of getting her Partner in Mutual Semi-Exclusive Gropeage ripped rather forcefully out of their body. (We are, as (particularly attractive) agents of evil, above titles like 'boyfriend.')

It might also have a bit to do with the bruise around her wrist (shaped, with somewhat astonishing accuracy, like tiny nymph-fingers) - or with the fact that her current cup of coffee is rather disappointingly alcohol-free.

In short: Goddess. Table. Cranky. Come play, dear?

lethe-forgets.livejournal.com

(OOM: At night she dreams a love story.

And later, in a dark palace, there are games to be played.)

lethe-forgets.livejournal.com

(Vaguely OOM: By the lake, there is some watching of sunsets and a great deal of unpleasantness.

Rated Y. For ‘Why did anyone think that it was a clever idea to put the three of them in the same place?’)

oldromansaint.livejournal.com

[OOM: For the birthday girl]

Santino moved into the bar, leaving behind a lovely black automobile. Jacket- black leather, new and fresh. Pants? Curdoroy, black. Shoes? Polished, black.

A lump of somekind in his pocket.

He sat down, awaiting company. He was hoping for one person, but would never shun more.

[OOC: ~~Mun has to run for an hour and begs slowtimes till then.~~ Back! Thanks!]

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

Another package is set on the bar, this time again with the gentle instruction 'for Styx.'

Then Jack Frost seats himself on a stool, and glances out over the bar, prepared for whatever might come his way.

With any luck, it'll be something interesting.