milliways_bar | Entries tagged with teddy lupin

Today's Daily Prophet (Headline: WELSH GREEN ESCAPES RESERVATION, FRIGHTENS MUGGLE HIKERS), unfolded and opened to a page somewhere in the middle, hovers just above a table.

Every so often, the paper drifts higher or lower, or one of the pages turns.

Behind the paper, Lily Evans is resting her elbows on the table and her chin on one hand. The other hand holds the wand she's using to read the paper.

You don't get newsprint smudges on your hands, this way.

followfootsteps.livejournal.com

You know what's a great thing to do when you've just woken up?

Potions brewing.

So you have Teddy, his hair mussed, in a pair of pyjama bottoms, at a booth with a cauldron. There's a red vapour and a rather pleasant smell of saffron coming from it.

Botherable.

lilium_evansiae

It's November at home. It's getting colder and it gets dark long before the day is over, and strange as it is to step out into July, Lily Evans can't say that she minds that it's summer here at the end of the universe.

She really should take advantage of that fact more than she does.

Which is why, after her conversation with Albus, she can be found sitting out by the part of the lake that looks like home.

There's a lot to think through, after all.

twoyearsmore.livejournal.com

The door to Milliways opens, admitting an excited red-haired girl that hasn't been seen in the bar in quite a while. And by excited the narrations means Excited, with a capital 'E'; she's practically bouncing as she comes in. The reason for her good mood is firmly clenched in one hand.

Lily Luna Potter has finally received her Hogwarts letter.

Eventually Lily calms down enough to realize that she hasn't ended up in her bedroom, where she'd been heading. When she realizes where she is, her face lights up even more (if it were at all possible).

"I didn't think I'd see this place again!"

victoryschild

A small read haired girl, giggling her head off, comes tearing into the bar and runs to hide behind the nearest table. Sorry if you're sat there.

[OOC: Please ping me before tagging. No 'heavy' threads. I can't guarantee I won't flake out. Apologies in advance.

Lauren X]

just-a-soldier.livejournal.com

Those who haven't frequented the bar in a while might recognise the hunched over figure of one Aeryn Sun at a table situated near the door. But whether recognised or not, she existed, book in hand - thumb pressed tight to the page in a kind of grim horror. The print on the cover certainly gave her no idea of what madness lay inside. The expression on her face was that of a woman who quite simply hadn't given a microts thought to what she was getting herself into.

I spy with my little eye something beginning with P. There's a Pixie near the Karoake machine, giving it the eye. She's yet to pick a song, but continues to stomp out a beat with her combat boot to an ear-thumping rythym. She appears to be wearing a pair of voluminous forest green bloomers and a leather jacket studded with metal spikes, but then, can you really trust your eyes? Because right now your eyes should be telling you that green winged seventeen-year-olds aren't all that common. Kaye Fierch doesn't mind standing out in a crowd and she just goes right on tapping her feet, wings fluttering madly on her back like some crazy fae tribal dance.

Most people sitting at the bar were eating, drinking, making merry - not Lirael. If you chanced to look at the very edge of the bar, close to the dusty bottles kept on shelves, you may have spotted the very top of her glossy, dark hair. Mostly, you would just see books, a very large, very precariously stacked mountain of books. Every few seconds a book fell, exuding a cloud of dust and a hand would shoot out to retrieve it, a soft murmuring coming from behind the makeshift library.

There's a young boy in the forest today, shirtless, predatory - he stalks back in forth from one edge of the forest to another as though deep in the process of making a decision. Jacob Black hooks his thumbs into the belt loops of his low slung denims and tugs upwards. He's itching to change, to run, to get away from every feeling and emotion that's crowding his head, but still he resists. There's no Sam Uley here to tell him what to do and no Bella to turn to, isn't that half the problem?

There are certain people in the world that you can take one look at, and know they'll be trouble. Lilith's always been that woman, not that it stops men from realizing it until it's too late. If you look too long there's a big chance you'll get your heart broken and later find out your wallet and pride are missing too. If you ask her, she'd say she couldn't help it; that it's her nature - the same way a cat toys with a mouse before he eats it.

'Course, she'd probably be lying. She enjoys making mischief almost as much as she enjoys makin' profit.

Today she's in the men's bathroom crouching close to the floor by a stall, bottle of Wild Turkey in one hand, black marker in the other. Yup, nothin' like vandalizing the wall of the crapper to make you feel pleasantly juvenile.

[OOC: Well it's been so long since I've played I just wanna get back into practice so feel free to bring whatever you want to the table and ignore my stunted writing :P Open forever, available for slowtime. I am also famous for allowing any kind of drama to explode in my threads, go nuts.

As a note for tagging Lilith, even though it mentions she's in the men's bathroom, if you're a girl and want to talk, feel free to assume she's in the girl's bathroom because I don't want to slice anyone out.]

victoryschild

"You want me to what?" Victoire asks, looking up from the napkin which just appeared on the bar.

"Can't I just get my Gillywater? Please?"

Considering that a few moments later the red-haired witch is stood behind the bar flipping through the Big Book of Drinks for some specials, we're guessing that's a no.

Specials
Magic Woman
Simple Charm
~~Sex~~ Hex on the Beach

Non Alcoholic
Safe ~~Sex~~ Hex on the Beach

victoryschild

Chocolates, roses, cards... Victoire always seems to get more than her fair share of gifts on Valentines day, thanks to her 'family charms'.

Not that she minds the free chocolates so much, but it gets quite embarrassing after the fourth or fifth time a nervous man thrusts a present at her and asks her out on a date which she then has to turn down. Even worse when you then can't avoid those same men because you have to work with them.

Still, at least at the end of it all there's the chocolate, which would be why Victoire is sat at the bar with a fairly sizeable stack of chocolate boxes, cherry picking her favourites from each box.

Feel free to help yourself: she's unlikely to get through the whole lot on her own tonight.

victoryschild

Sneak sneak sneak. Sneak sneak sneak.

Late in the evening, when she should be asleep in her Auntie Ginny's old room, Victoire sneaks out down the corridor, up the stairs and into her Uncle Ron's room which is no longer her Uncle Ron's room but is Milliways Bar.

She grins and heads straight to the Christmas Tree to find out if Santa left her the present she asked for.

victoryschild

Victoire has never been all that good at controlling her Veela 'gifts'. She's often thought it had to do with how diluted her Veela ancestry is by this point but instead of being so weak as to affect anyone at all, it comes in bursts when she's particularly happy or exited and unless she's actively concentrating on not charming all the boys around her... well.

When Victoire comes into the bar today she is extremely excited which does not bode well for the state of mind of men in the bar...

[Tiny charmed tag: Victoire Weasley]

followfootsteps.livejournal.com

Look, a Teddy, who was clearly asleep ten minutes ago.

He's slumped, in a pair of pyjama trousers, at a booth with a bunch of notes scattered over the table and a very strong coffee.

Botherable.

victoryschild

A young and beautiful red-headed woman stands at the just opened doorway with a set of keys in her hands and looks around the bar confused. Being a witch and growing up with her family, Victoire is used to the unexpected, but finding an unfamiliar bar in place of where her small Parisian apartment in Montmarte should be is enough to perturb even the young Miss Weasley.

She turns back to the open door. That's definitely the hallway of her building on the other side. She steps back through the door, shuts it behind her and tries again. Still no apartment.

"Mais qu'est-ce qui se passe? Où est mon salon?!"

You'll have to forgive the French. She thinks she's still in Paris.

[Tiny Translated Tag: Victoire Weasley]

[ooc: Apologies for the French - I do the best I can with Google Translate]

lady_bols

All work and no play makes Alex a very dull girl indeed. If she never saw the inside of that musty old records room again, it would be too soon. And an evening of sitting on that god awful geometric patterned couch for another night, watching the blue BBC logo spin, waiting for word from Molly as to whether or not her real body had reached hospital did not sound appealing in the least.

Far better to take her woes to a proper pub (This is not to slight Luigi's trattoria, but there was no dart board and no snooker table, and it was more than a little pathetic that she could name every face in that atrocious mural.)

So here's to wiling away a few hours, honing her skill at the dart board, and drinking something a little bit better than the house red.

Fake Tag: DI Alex Drake, DCI Gene Hunt

diced_tartan

[OOM: A change in the Routine]

When Inspector Partridge tells Nicholas to go home for an amount of time, Nicholas knows that he's not welcome in the station until that amount of time has passed.

Of course, this means that he can't continue his search. He's gone through all of the case files he'd previously checked out, and hasn't found a single thing, which has put him at a dead end. But the bar means that he can at least get out of the flat, if only to go stare at a different set of walls. He's brought in a chess set from home, and is slowly setting it up.

Anyone care to play?

scots_wolf

Urquhart is sprawled on a couch near the fireplace, long blond hair cascading over the armrest all the way to the floor. There is still one blue strand in it.

He has a large mug of coffee right at hand, and is reading (or looking at) a catalogue of swimwear. No, he's not ogling the female models, he is trying to pick something for himself, as it has been pointed out to him he might want to.

It seems he has more options than he could possibly imagine.-

guppy_sandhu

The circle of chairs is set out at one side of the bar ~~because in some universe it is totally still tuesday~~.

In the middle are plates of home made cakes and biscuits shaped like farm animals. Next to them are bowls of icing, sprinkles, and writing icing.

LIFE SUPPORT
OPEN TO ALL!

Come decorate a cake or biscuit!

[ooc: Guppy-mun apologises for forgetting to put this up on the right day. Open to anyone who wants company, to talk about worries here or at home, who just want to eat the food, etc :). All tags will be picked up by a LS team member.
Tinytag: Connor (Freakangels)]

alsoagreengrass

At the far end of the counter, removed from most with the small cauldron, which hangs suspended over a burner much like what some medieval chemist might use, and the potion kit that he has with him, Scorpius is in the middle of some remedial coursework when the napkin appears.

"What, seriously, now?"

He worries his bottom lip. He really ought to continue to practice or he's going to get another letter from home about his progress (or, rather, lack of), but maybe...

"Uhm. Could I - I'll fund it, I mean, but, if people were willing to - "

Another napkin appears, and Scorpius grins.

"Brilliant."

A few minutes later, the special is on the board and a few small bowls of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans are spread out evenly along the counter as an extra treat.

SPECIALS

Butterbeer

Free for anyone willing to test a potion.

The stand-in bartender can now be found front and center, either hunched over his textbook or idly stirring the bubbling potion.

[OOC: Any reactions or effects the potion has on a character, should there be customers willing take up the challenge, is, of course, left up to the opposing mun. And as Scorpius is most certainly not the best potioneer, feel free to get creative! Any questions, comments, or OOC communication can be directed this way.]

[OOC: Closed to any new threads. Sleepytime for the mun! Will try and collect slowtimes in the morning.]

student_of_impossibility

"Really? But I was thinking--"

A napkin appears.

"I don't suppose..." Beat. "Point. A very good point, in fact."

About five minutes later, there's a young man about six three behind the Bar, who (unless you know him very well) probably has almost nothing in common with a rather tiny geeky schoolboy, at least at first glance. He's staring at the Specials board with a look of someone else please be creative for me. Finally he sighs and picks up a piece of chalk.

Specials:
Ale
Wine
Tea

Mixed drinks on request.

[Other than the in-progress threads with teenage!Tavi, as of now he's officially aged up. Because the mun got bored. That's all, folks--tag in, thread hop, chat with yourselves and the bartender.]

set-of-pictures.livejournal.com

Penny was never really that good at Divination and just about managed Arithmancy. Still, she'd gone outside to the lake and picked up enough rocks to make a rune set out of. Being a Ravenclaw, when packing up for an escape into nowhere in particular, she brought all of her textbooks with her in her Bottomless Backpack. That includes her sixth year Divination textbook that included runic divination.

Now she's sat at a table in the bar throwing nine rune stones again and again with the same result each time. It's almost uncanny if you watch it. You'd probably get some entertainment from the not-quite swearwords she's muttering as well. She could probably do with a break to be honest but she's not going to do so on her own; she's too focussed on getting a different answer out of the rocks in front of her to do so.

followfootsteps.livejournal.com

[OOM: Sometimes, being an Auror is exciting. Sometimes, being an Auror is not exciting, but just a series of strange tasks, awkward conversations and uncomfortable meetings.]

When the door opens, there's a six foot, sharp-featured, pale, black-haired, well-built young man in a dark suit (blacks and dark greys), who just looks to exude charisma and wealth. He takes in the bar, closes the door very carefully, and then just lets out a huge sigh.

As he walks to the bar he slides up a few inches, his skin gets a bit less deathly, his hair goes from black to brown shot through with blond, the eyes fade out to a slightly more mundane brown colour, and the sharp features soften slightly into something that's less 'hawk' and more 'sharp end of boyish'.

He settles at the bar, unbuttoning his waistcoat and ordering a stiff drink (when Bar responds with an air of expectant patience, he specifies that he'd quite like some rum). Because really, he's been in that form for hours, struggling not to change: It's tiring.

hoopsonfire

Vampire looking for blood donations - guaranteed ecstatic experience.

There is a pale young woman sitting at the closest table, reading a book.

[The Fledgling]

[Open until the next, Millitime and Slowtime welcome]

followfootsteps.livejournal.com

Teddy looks very pleased, which is unusual this soon after a full moon. Also, blond, but this is less unusual.

He also has a stack of papers of various colours.

Come ask him why!

alsoagreengrass

Scorpius Malfoy is not all that shocked to see Milliways after so much time has passed since he last had his feet in the bar. Life outside has kept him busy enough and seeing Milliways now is only like greeting a good friend that he hasn't talked to in a month.

The boy, now in his sixth year at Hogwarts, merely sets his broom by the door - it has anti-theft charms, thank you very much - and heads straight for Bar. Where he lays a pair of mud-caked Quidditch gloves and goggles on the counter.

"Hel-lo there. Been awhile, hasn't it? I thought maybe I'd been kicked from the club."

But he knows, without even having to ask, he had some growing up to do. Growing up that was best handled outside the complicated realm of Milliways.

"Butterbeer, please. Warm. Practice was brutal."

And the weather not much better.

His robes and gear get a quick cleaning with a wave of his wand.

followfootsteps.livejournal.com

It's been a while since Teddy's been in.

Teddy slides a hand through his hair as he enters, turning it bright red and adjusting his facial structure so that he has wider, softer features. It's a good disguise, he thinks - he doesn't want to risk the off chance that one of the other candidates taking the Auror training tests might come here. He really doesn't want to dissect how the first few tests went, at the moment.

"Steak, rare," he mumbles once he gets to the Bar. Bar obliges, and he heads over to a booth to start poking at the steak.

aimedforthemoon

Esfir is, at this exact moment, bored. Taking a break from the flight sims (and where is Han, damn him), she's curled up on the couch by the fire with a book beside her. The book (War and Peace - sometimes, you just feel like the classics. And, yes, it's in Russian) is not actually being read.

Instead, she has her lighter out and is flicking the flame on and off.

Yes, she is rather bored, why do you ask?

(And any tags after Teddy's will find the tiny woman looking ever-so-slightly wide-eyed and confused)

tiny!tag: bela talbot, cal chandler, the russian astronaut

[ooc: and back! and welcoming any and all tags]