milliways_bar | Entries tagged with tom branson

Branson has been thinking quite a lot about the strange pub that occasionally appears at the back of the garage.

More specifically, he has been thinking of his resolution not to eat or drink anything while he's there. He'd fully intended to stick to this plan, but the more he thought about it, the less he liked that idea. He certainly wasn't afraid of doing so. Nor was he afraid of getting stuck and having to find some other way out. It could be a bit of an adventure. And it would certainly make a nice change from driving the ladies around all the time.

So when the pub appears again today, he strides confidently to the bar and says, "I'd like a pint and a bowl of stew, if I may, miss."

Rather than pleased or surprised, the look on his face when the meal appears could best be described as determined.

[ooc: Recycled EP is recycled.]

irish_radical

Branson has been thinking quite a lot about the strange pub that occasionally appears at the back of the garage.

More specifically, he has been thinking of his resolution not to eat or drink anything while he's there. He'd fully intended to stick to this plan, but the more he thought about it, the less he liked that idea. He certainly wasn't afraid of doing so. Nor was he afraid of getting stuck and having to find some other way out. It could be a bit of an adventure. And it would certainly make a nice change from driving the ladies around all the time.

So when the pub appears again today, he strides confidently to the bar and says, "I'd like a pint and a bowl of stew, if I may, miss."

Rather than pleased or surprised, the look on his face when the meal appears could best be described as determined.

irish_radical

Branson still hasn't availed himself of any of the food or drink at Milliways. He still isn't certain that doing so won't mean he's stuck here forever.

Which means he has somewhat of a moral dilemma when he approaches the bar and is given a napkin asking him to help out.

"Are you sure you want me? I've no experience."

Another napkin.

"Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?"

He really doesn't have any experience, so his specials are quite simple.

Porter

whiskey

sherry

He's fairly certain he can manage that much. And once that's taken care of, he sets aside his hat and his jacket and rolls up his sleeves, looking around for an apron.

[ooc: Enjoying all the threads here, but I must beg slowtimes.]

irish_radical

Branson still isn't sure how he feels about this bar occasionally showing up in his garage. (Lord Grantham's garage, though Branson does still think of it as his.) He also hasn't yet decided if he's okay with eating or drinking anything here. He doesn't believe in fairies, but it doesn't hurt to be cautious.

Today he's at the bar with a carburetor laid out in pieces on a towel, very meticulously cleaning each piece with a soft cloth before putting it back together again.

***

Alcide has no qualms about eating or drinking here, and he's got a very large plate piled high with steak and potatoes in front of him, a half-finished pint nearby. He's less happy to be here now that he's seen Northman, but it still has the best damn beer he's ever tasted, so he's willing to overlook that for now.

***

David Posner comes bounding into the bar with a grin, all but bouncing on his feet.

"Stu!" he says as he enters, then realizes where he is.

A brief look of disappointment crosses his face before he goes to the bar, where he's given a glass of champagne and a small cake with, "Congratulations," scrawled across it in sparkling, blue frosting, along with a very cartoonish depiction of the comedy/tragedy masks.

hisonegoodeye

A senior SHIELD agent walks into a bar.

(Ow.)

"...Well then," says Agent Coulson, very very mildly.

[OOC: Yes, thanks to Cam, I *finally* found a way to tag on DW! Coulson comes from approximately the same time as the Thor movie.

...Er. Please don't kill me?]

irish_radical

Tom Branson has had a rather long day. He's just getting settled in to his new position at Downton Abbey, which means he's getting to know the vehicle he'll be working with. It's not-quite new, but the former chauffeur took quite excellent care of it. He knows the car is likely in perfect shape, but he still wanted to get his hands on the engine. There wasn't much for him to do, though, so before too long, he's done all the tinkering he really can without causing problems he'd have to fix later.

He was headed for the washroom at the back of the garage, but what he found instead was...well, a bar.

His hands are greasy, he's carrying a spanner, and he's left his jacket behind him, but far be it from him to let fear of the unknown to keep him from something. Looking around warily, he steps over the threshold in his shirtsleeves.

He could do with a pint, he supposes.

tiny!tag: Tom Branson

beyond-therest.livejournal.com

I'm really tired. Something threw me off. I don't know why I'm here, but back home it was four in the morning, and I feel like four in the morning. I've managed to be swept away once again without normal (well, they're not really normal, but..) clothes. I'm in my pajamas, Led Zeppelin shirt, boxer shorts, and green slippers I brought for 99 cents. A seat at the bar, green tea, and a chopstick to put up my hair.

Anything I'm leaving out?

sorrowfulmisery.livejournal.com

There is a woman in a black dress, eyes closed laying out in one of the booths. No, she's not asleep. Yes, her guns are on her. Well, the Berettas that are in her leg holsters anyways but the dress covers them up. See... she's slowly coming to terms with not keeping all of her guns with her. Either that or she's just having a good day. One of the two. We're not really sure which and she probably isn't either.

Sitting on the table that she's at those is a notepad with writing on it. The writing is in shorthand and written in only a way that she can read it. Well... her and the rest of Umbrella Corps' Security Team. The only word visible on the page is the word 'T-virus'. Otherwise... there's no telling what it says. Or what it is she's doing. It's also possible that she found out what the new power was that she gained after Umbrella Corp experimented on her.

alwaysroomforhope

Steph's in the bar.

You might not see her, though. She's Lurking.

Since she's a sensible girl, and hungry, she's got her dinner up in the rafters with her. It's not quite as good at Lurking as she is, because, pizza, the smell wafts. But it tastes good, so she's not gonna complain.

teyfera.livejournal.com

Shrinking into a booth as far from the main area as possible, Teyfera sits and watches the bar nervously. Her eyes are nervous and her hands twitch a bit on her tea as she drinks it. So many people who are not of her kind, so much noise and violence and activity... it is enough to make her jump at the slightest sound. Which, in this room, is a lot. She huddles back and watches with eyes wide.

the-silver-lady.livejournal.com

An Elven lady is seated near a window, working busily on another needlepoint project.

"O Stars that in the sunless Year
With shining hand by thee were sown,
In windy fields now bright and clear
We see your silver blossom blown!

O Elbereth Gilthoniel!
We still remember, we who dwell
In this far land beneath the trees,
Thy starlight on the Western Seas."

Celebrían would not mind company.

[Sporadic slowtime to be expected, say sorry.]

transgenic-max.livejournal.com

Max is curled up in a booth, flipping through her file folder again. The photographs are piled off against the wall, being ignored for the time being. She hasn't found anything useful from them, and they're disturbing.

She's been working for a while, and is getting nowhere. She could use some distraction before she dumps the folder, contents and all, into the fireplace.

mollyprewett.livejournal.com

Molly's in the bar, taking a break from her work in the gardens, and nursing a cup of tea.

She's a little subdued after last night, but still cheerful enough, if you'd like to stop by and chat.

mollyprewett.livejournal.com

She doesn't remember where she learned the song, but she's singing it quietly under her breath as she kneels on the garden path and carefully waters the newly sprouted flowers with a gentle trickle of water from the end of her wand. It's not a demon making her sing, but rather the simple joy of working in the gardens.

"Hi!" said the little leatherwing bat
"I'll tell to you the reason that
The reason that I fly by night
Is because I've lost my heart's delight."
Howdy dowdy diddle-dum day
Howdy dowdy diddle-dum day
Howdy dowdy diddle-dum day
Hey le lee-lee lie-lee low

( rest )

She could probably use a break about now. Come say hello!

teyfera.livejournal.com

Teyfera sits in a booth, scrunched all the way in, barely looking over the table. She is bundled up in blankets, almost completely obscured. She is eating and drinking food and hot tea from her homeland, however, as she watches the room, eyes frightened and nervous.

teyfera.livejournal.com

Teyfera peers around the edge of the bottom of the stairway, watching the crowd for a bit.

After several long moments, she takes a deep breath and steps out to the floor. She moves, tense and slow, to a shadowy booth, her eyes darting everywhere at everything.

She settles into the furthest back edge of the booth and watches, accepting a tea from a wait rat with a start and then just holding it, watching the Bar.

teyfera.livejournal.com

[OOM: Teyfera, scared, hungry, and alone, receives a visitor who helps her make the decision to come downstairs.]

It is a quiet, very shy, and still frightened Teyfera who appears at the bottom of the stairs. She peers out into the main area or a long time from that vantage point, barely breathing, trying to build her confidence. Finally, she takes a deep breath, and, her gaze darting around everywhere, she turns towards Bar. She fastens her gaze there and almost runs to a seat nearest the stair exit and slips onto the barstool. She sits there for a long moment, her hands flat on Bar and then speaks in a quiet voice.

"Bar? May I have breakfast please?"

A large plate with traditional Irda food appears, along with a glass, and a pitcher of orange juice. With a small whimper, she digs in, determinedly not looking around, but her senses tuned to the merest sound around her.

teyfera.livejournal.com

It is in these odd hours of both day and night that a small figure ghosts down to the Bar and gathers up a tray full of food from Bar, then just as quietly ghosts back up the stairs. If her face was to be seen, a look of stark terror would have been there, but her face is hidden, looking down, avoiding eye contact with everyone as she makes her way to and from the Bar. She appears a normal young lady in every aspect, save she moves completely silently. And then, just as silently, she is gone.

teyfera.livejournal.com

A tall red-headed girl with dark eyes, dressed in casual clothes, slips down the stairs slowly, and to the Bar, looking neither right nor left.

Teyfera, driven by hunger and thirst, finally makes it to the Bar and orders a large platter of food. Everytime there is a noice nearby, she flinches, but avoids looking at anything but Bar, her shoulders slightly hunched. Fear/hysteria/aloneness/scared/run runs through her mind a lot as she stands waiting.

When it appears, she eyes it and then reaches out with slightly larger arms then she had a moment before, lifts it, and then scurries back upstairs.

(ooc: put in place just as a marker to show she is still alive. not for tagging right now. Thank ye kindly.)

teyfera.livejournal.com

The Door opens and a woman falls through, landing heavily. Her eyes are closed for a moment. She is greenish-blue, and not really quite human looking, from skin to hair., and wet, and annoyed with life as she lands face and front first on the floor.

Behind her there is chaos, and water, and shifting debris that threatens, for a moment, to follow her, until the Door shuts. She lays on the ground and breathes for a moment, until she looks up.

As she sees everything around her, she shifts, her form blurring and altering, her expression changing as well. Her skin blurs, and her face, and even her clothes, change and then she is a blond haired Caucasian woman, looking terrified, and huddling back against the Door.

She looks out at the crowd of humans, and Others, and she is terrified, alone, and quite certain she has just gone insane.