milliways_bar | Entries tagged with toby de silva

Two Holby medics are sitting near the infirmary.

Guppy is looking fairly upbeat, if busy, and is going through various catalogues on the table making lists of stuff he needs to do or buy.

Toby is sitting with a beer on the other side of the table, worrying. And occasionally trying to attract his former colleague's attention.

"Guppy, what am I going to do?"

"Go and talk to your boss." Guppy says, without looking up. "And in future try not to let your new found arrogance get in the way of patient care. If he doesn't sack you."

Toby, frustrated by the lack of sympathy, chucks his beer over the surprised Guppy and slouches out back to brood.

Guppy stares after him, then tries to rescue his catalogues.

[ooc: Either available for tagging.]

dr-de-silva.livejournal.com

If he weren't always in his own little world, Toby would be in total emotional conflict between the new girlfriend and the possibility of getting sacked.

Of course, nobody wants to be sacked. But a traitorous part of him points out how close he was to leaving of his own accord a few months ago, and wonders whether it would actually be such a bad thing to be able to get a job he's better at.

He wanders into the bar with his headphones on, not really paying attention to his surroundings until he nearly trips over a waitrat.

The rat glares at him and hurries off.

dr-de-silva.livejournal.com

One of Holby's least competant doctors in the bar.

He's finally starting to get the hang of his orthopaedics rotation, though his boss thinks he's an idiot.

Today, he has a small model skeleton slung over his shoulder as he comes in, then tries to juggle it with a can of lemonade he gets from the bar.

kindalikecurry.livejournal.com

[Pre-Milliways.]

Hang on, the top of the stairs shouldn't lead to a bar.

Seamus isn't entirely certain where they should lead (he's not really thinking about the geography of the London Underground right now), but a bar just seems out of place.

Dean gets a bewildered look directed at him, as if he should somehow know where they are and how they ended up here. It's his city, after all, right?

In conclusion, two teenage wizards in a bar, looking a little worse for wear.

[Tinytags: Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas.]

candied-rabbit.livejournal.com

Momiji Sohma, at the moment, is outside, scampering around as per usual. He is, also, as it turns out, a pirate.

Having completely failed at his last attempt at a piratical adventure due to a lack of proper costume - it's hard to be a proper pirate if no one can tell - he's taken all reasonable precautions against such confusion, this time.

Of course, given that his wardrobe is not a naturally seafaring one, it's turned out as a rather hit-and-miss affair. Hence, there's one rabbit-boy outside, eyepatch over one eye and a brightly colored bandana tied over his hair. He figures, from the movies, that swashbuckly types generally wear tights or tights-equivalents, and, as such, has rustled up a pair of rainbow ones, which, in addition to a flowing, blue shirt and a pair of shorts, make up his present attire.

He thinks he looks like a great pirate, at least. Maybe the eyepatch and the wooden sword he's waving around as he does imaginary battle will be enough to give it away to everyone else.

...Have at thee?

[tinytags: assassin!]

burningdancer.livejournal.com

Some wrecks are personal -

some wrecks are physical.

A last lingering wetness still holds on to Mai's skin underneath her clothes as she steps almost unthinkingly into the Bar, a grey malaise that clings to the color of her skin and the curve of her shoulders. The bandage on her left knee feels out of place, unjustifiable; so much effort expended on such a minor wound.

She pats Bar on the counter as she walks behind it to pour herself a glass of water, offering it a weak smile of thank-you-I'll-be-fine-let-me-do-this-for-you before drinking the entire glass in two quick gulps and refilling.

She sets her glass back on the counter, disappears from view; she sets a drink-fixing manual on the counter beside it, then steps back out from around the bar.

She takes a sip of water and pretends that the words she reads mean something to her.

[tinytags: mai tokiha]

young_womble

Wellington did his first kitchen shift this morning, and thoroughly enjoyed it.

He still has his apron on now, though, and thought he'd make himself useful by tracking down lost spoons.

***

Chase Stein is out back, digging up a flowerbed.

***

John Steed is by the fire, with a brandy, people-watching.

***

Toby de Silva is cramming an orthapaedic text book, whilst drinking a pint of beer.

dr-de-silva.livejournal.com

[oom: Holby's medic of little confidence steps onto the ice. canon update]

Toby is currently wishing he'd never gone on rotation.

He's currently post mortum-ing his day over and over again in his mind. So much guilt. If he could turn back time... he'd just have to watch himself being as stupid again.

young_womble

FREE HUGS

Wellington is reading a cook book, and looking out in case he has any messages about shifts yet.

***

Toby de Silva is busy revising orthapaedics in preparation for his new rotation.

He's flopped on a sofa, with a pink fizzy drink of some sort, and his headphones dangling on top of his ears.

Lots of gory pictures.

guppy_sandhu

Guppy is over in a corner, experimenting with a book and some post-it notes.

He holds the post-it in his teeth, and the book in one hand. Then with the other hand behind his back, he nudges the post-it onto the page, then pulls to see if he can turn the page.

It doesn't work.

Disappointed, he drops the sticky note and considers the problem. There has to be some way to turn pages and hold the book when a person has only one working arm.

***

Shufti is perched on a table, keeping an eye on the bar. Her security badge is, as always, pinned on her jacket.

***

Toby is asleep by the fire, his mouth hanging open.

burningdancer.livejournal.com

Magical girls get magical entrances; some of them do, anyway. Regular girls aren't anything special, anything notable; there's no sparkling flash, no announcement of grand destiny. Nothing at all.

Just a door with a plain, brass handle, and a lock. And a girl, stepping through, because doors aren't usually in the back of supply closets.

Perhaps that should have meant something more significant at the time.

"Eh?" Her eyes are wide, and she stares around at the Bar, seeing but not believing. She takes one further step into the Bar, then steps back inside her closet and closes the door.

Then opens it again.

"It's still here," she says, because one of the few refuges of the sane in moments of complete irrationality is to find salvation in the obvious. She grabs a bottle of cleaning spray from the shelf behind her and wedges it between door and jamb before setting foot inside a second time.

It's on her second look around that she spots the window, right in the midst of a spectacular collapse. Her eyes go wide like saucers, and she instinctively steps back - only realizing, too late to stop herself, that she's caught her foot on a chair leg. "... aaah -"

Cue clattering sprawl, and somehow the chair ends up on top of her. She manages to prop herself up on an elbow, and reaches to prod, gently, at the back of her head with her fingers. "Ow. Ow ow ow ow."

After a moment, she reaches up with one hand to grab the edge of a table and uses it to haul herself back upright. She grabs the chair with the other and repositions it with a minimum of fuss, muttering something to herself that sounds rather like "movie" and "not real" and, possibly, "why me".

"Where am I, anyway?" she says, though she doesn't appear to be asking anyone in particular. (She's just irate that she let a video scare her enough to cause all that fuss.)

Milliways Bar, Tokiha Mai. Tokiha Mai, Milliways Bar. Say hello.

[tinytags: mai tokiha]

[Typist sleeps now, thank you all. Slowtime prevails.]

dr-de-silva.livejournal.com

Toby hasn't enjoyed being Bound much, though it did at least take his mind off home.

Right now he's wondering what he's going to do about the tab.

He'll do something. He's just... thinking it through.

dr-de-silva.livejournal.com

[oom: Canon Update.

Forty eight hours after the worst moment of my life. And I still haven't got the image from behind my eyes.

"No! Not now, that's not funny!"

Toby, who just walked in and saw his door disappear, is now sort of scrabbling at the wall. It's a rather sad scene. His rucksack and a rather crumpled newspaper drop to the ground as he tries to make the door come back.

He stops short of kicking at it only because he doesn't want to damage the wall. But stands there for a moment, looking at it in dismay.

guppy_sandhu

Sometimes, when things are stressy, it's time for a little light-hearted fun.

Toby was a bit doubtful when Guppy suggested they ask Bar for a board game whilst they both keep an eye on the place. Having played for half an hour, he's now not much less doubtful.

"Guppy, have you played this before? You're thrashing me."

"Nope. And you have to pick up a DOOM card."

"'You start a brawl because someone turned your axe into a newt. Proceed directly to Security Office, do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred Bar Tab.'" Toby moves his demon bunny across the board.

Guppy rolls the dice and moves his miniature waitrat six spaces. Toby points.

"I own the garden furniture!"

"Yeah, but it's morgaged, sorry Tobes."

Toby pays his last fifty bar tab to get out of the Office, then rolls the dice.

"Oh great, another DOOM card." He picks it up. "'You are assessed for Bar repairs, pay twenty five for every property you have for reasonable wear and tear.' I think I lose."

Guppy grins and resets the board in case anyone else wants to play. Toby wanders over to the bar to get more orange juices.

guppy_sandhu

Guppy wanders into the main bar from the infirmary, pausing to collect a response to his note to a colleague.

( Which reads... )

With a sigh he heads over to the booth near the infirmary, massaging his head as it threatens him with a migraine.

The doctor is in

dr-de-silva.livejournal.com

[oom: We did mention that it never rains but it pours in Holby, right? canon update.]

Toby, having finished his very long shift, has changed and is by the bar, eating a pack of smarties.

He'll share.

dr-de-silva.livejournal.com

[oom: Canon update.]

Being stood up would bother some people; all dressed up and nowhere to go. But since all dressed up just means out of work clothes, it's not like Toby went to too much effort.

He gets a lemonade from the bar, then sits there with a newspaper, doodling dragonflies on it as he attempts to do the puzzles.

cheevy.livejournal.com

Miniver is in the bar today, taking a break from packing back home. His puppy is with him, flopped over his lap.

Last chance for the Miniver of this time for a little while! Come say hi.

[ooc: advance warning that mun has to disappear for a few hours... in a few hours.]

guppy_sandhu

Guppy is in a booth near the door, looking over some rather official papers with a worried frown.

His worrying is disturbed by someone slipping casually over to his table, wearing a black hooded jacket and scarf. Guppy looks up and frowns.

"Why are you dressed like that? Have you pissed someone off?"

( They talk quietly (cut for length) )

Guppy watches, shaking his head in despair, until he's sure the man got out safely, then goes back to worrying over his scary legal papers.

Can't believe I used to be that stupid.

dr-de-silva.livejournal.com

It's Friday night in Holby, which means the usual assortment of drunks and silly people in Holby City Hospital accident and emergency department.

The sign just outside the door flashes 'Waiting time approx four hours' as Toby enters, narrowly avoiding a full beer can thrown at his head.

It hits the door instead, and explodes over him.

There is a moment when he looks like he's going to explode himself, but after a few seconds he just shuts the door on them and wrings himself out.

He squelches over to the bar and tries to soak some of it up with napkins.

there-is-a-me.livejournal.com

Don't mind Spoon. He's just feeling caged. This, of course, explains the way that he's walking in circles around, and around, and checking things. The front door, which he doesn't try (the only thing binding him is Harry Wells' word. It's an unbreakable bond), the back door. The forge, lake, forest, mountain, TARDIS, and back again. Upstairs to check on the rooms that the Wells and all are using.

cd-hom-pac-sol.livejournal.com

It had been oppressively overcast, cold, and damp for the past few days. In other words: The worst sort of weather, though, to be expected for the time of year.

Max was stupendously happy to have found the bar instead of the bathroom, because it meant that he could actually get warm for once, and get some food while he was at it.

Which is rather a roundabout way of saying: Scruffy blonde in a booth with a cigarette, a large pizza and a cup of coffee. He'll share the pizza, more than enough for him alone.

there-is-a-me.livejournal.com

Spoon doesn't have a hangover. Sometimes being a werewolf rocks. He's out doing his normal practise and humming cheerfully while he does his best to make certain that every spot where Ryan generally hangs out has been thoroughly invaded with the younger werewolf's scent.

Just another day stuck at the End of the Universe.

dr-de-silva.livejournal.com

It's been amazingly busy for Toby over the new year.

So today he's chilling out by the bar, sipping a diet coke and bouncing along to music that may, on closer inspection, turn out to be Westlife.

Or not.

sizzuhs.livejournal.com

January of 1945. The town had been bombed a few days ago leaving many people dead including the French nurse that Gene had...become rather fond of. When they would meet they spoke soft words in her native tongue together- a chance to get away from the War and the death about them. It was a chance to escape the harsh reality of the line being broken.

The 101st Airborne was far under equiped for any unit to spend as much time out in the cold as they had been. Bastogne had fallen but at what cost? To many were dead. Either by the cold or by the Germans. They had all been surrounded and outnumbered but never once did any of them give up. Never.

Gene tried to huddle deeper into the tanker jacket he wore with its blood, dirt, and charcoal stains. He couldn't feel his fingers or his toes- sure he had a case of frostbite but nothing he could do about it. It was a hazard to being a combat medic that..you didn't care what happened to yourself. Your men were more important. Using his shoulder to open the door to a building that had become the temp aid station he hardly noticed where he was at first.

Not until he glanced up from a pale face hidden partly behind his jacket collar and ice cold helmet that Roe discovered Milliways. Please pardon the half frozen medic from staring wide-eyed about for the moment.

Totally botherable. In fact, please do so!