milliways_bar | Entries tagged with tool

simple-tool.livejournal.com

[Soon after this]

A girl blinked and then raised her hand as a puppy came dashng past her into the Bar. She hasn't been seen in bar for some time, this pale blond child, but her movements are as graceful as ever as she glides past people in an attempt to catch up to Foolish.

Tool is in Bar once more...dressed in simple jean coveralls and a cotton blouse, a far cry from her previous attire.

politestpirate.livejournal.com

Millitime invoked.

Out of the infirmary is good- even if Wellard is moving stiffly, and carefully. He may still be on the mend- but he alive, and will be better, and now well enough to be in the bar, with his papers and plans.

And some of it is the resolve that- yes. He will be down in the bar, to sit at a table, and make out lists for materials needed to start work on the first ship design, and no one can say or do otherwise. Wellard make take a more prudent seat where he can see people come and go-

But he will be in the bar.

simple-tool.livejournal.com

[After a peaceful day]

The door opens upon a girl with a basket in her arms, and those who are looking may note the slight widening of her eyes, the briefest flash of panic. It is quickly hidden though as she erases even the faintest hint of a smile from her lips, and steps into Bar.

The basket holds a puppy, perhaps no more than a week oldor a little more. Bar herself is a good place to head to when there are no instructions, so Tool recieves a coloring book and crayons...

And since the puppy is asleep, she has no reason to do aught else.

The picture she starts is perfect. Excellent shading, an artistic masterpiece...

And she doesn't finish it. Her fingers freeze, the crayon cracks, unforgiveable that. She does not want perfection, not in something so simple as this...

simple-tool.livejournal.com

[OOM: A foolish puppy picks out a Tool]

simple-tool.livejournal.com

[OOMs: A new life for Tool, her reactions to it, and later, a haircut]

abotticellilady.livejournal.com

[OOM: All threads milltimed to the 19th of March, as Ashie is a SPAZ and forgot. Now that that's out of the way...

In the House of Arch, Bianca and the cursed!Lucy have a final run in, which ends in Bianca prudently running to get help when Lucy's fingers 'slip' while firing a bow and arrow. Bianca finds Merriman Lyon, and he uncurses Lucy, who goes straight to her room. Not in the best of moods, Bianca goes into the bar, where Ramon catches her to ask about Arithon's note. She takes him back to Australia, where the getting of Tool's soul is discussed and Random is trumped in with baby!Martin. While Arithon and Random are busy getting the little girl's soul back, Ramon and Bianca (with baby!Martin) are banished outide, and forced to amuse themselves. Warning for the last being a long-arse thread with serious talk interspaced with crack as Ramon's plans to use Martin as a flirting tool are thrawted by Bianca, and then she tosses him (by mistake. No, really) into the Pacific Ocean.

So, to sum up - Lucy's uncursed, Tool's soul is brought back, and Ramon's Armani pants will never be the same again.]

simple-tool.livejournal.com

[A souls journey, in three parts. Leaving, Shadows, and Endings]

A girl stumbles in. A graceful stumble, she dares never to lose grace. Her large eyes are haunted, and she certainly does not see the Bar she stumbles into. No, she'd been looking for something, anything to end things...

So there is a Tool, lacking the uncanny air about her, the chilling feeling of the soulless...but no less broken.

i-martha-adams.livejournal.com

Martha is, again, in to check for messages.

There are, again, none.

However any night she doesn't have to cook for herself in a house that was supposed to hold two or more people is a good night. She orders a dinner, finds a table, and commences watching the stars die.

There are two plates, if anyone is interested in keeping her company.

politestpirate.livejournal.com

There were threats of bodily harm, so thus-

Wellard is at what has gotten to be his 'normal' table, books and papers spread out at hand, and the remains of dinner set neatly aside. There is the usual cup of tea, heavy on the cream and sugar, and the young british officer is working on a diagram of a sail- measurements in english and paravian. (Thanks to a conversion chart he and Avar finally figured out.)

Aside from working on the sketch, Wellard is keeping an eye out for some particular people in the bar.

transgenic-max.livejournal.com

Max is at a table near the observation window tonight, rather than her usual booth. She's staring out at the end of the universe, her expression thoughtful, touched with vague worry. She's sipping from a cup of hot chocolate tonight, instead of her usual coffee. Every now and then she glances down at her notebook, jotting something down in her usual strange shorthand.

She seems oblivious to whatever might be going on around her, though looks can be deceiving.

Care to test how attentive she is? She makes amusing noises when startled.

simple-tool.livejournal.com

There is a doll-like girl sitting on a couch. Oddly, she sits far too still, arrays herself far too carefully for anything to truly ring right about her...

She's waiting. Mistress Lust had bid her read a stack of books, and Tool had memorized what she could before Mistress Max bid her stop, so she must return the books now. Then she no doubt should continue meeting people...

So, soul-less child in a bar. At least she's not wearing the lace and silk evening apparel any more...though the Osh Kosh's certainly don't make her any more comfortable to be around.

abotticellilady.livejournal.com

From the House of Arch, two short figures enter, namely Bianca and Arithon. She needs something to eat, and if one them remembers they nag the other.

So, two pups, two muns, tag either or both.

Current Mood: stressed

firstfallenstar.livejournal.com

He's watching the bar's patrons tonight, rather than the view beyond the window, and sipping from a glass of wine. Paid for in cash, of course - money, for him, is not at all hard to come by. The sudden buzz of activity caused by the management's notice intrigues him.

So, another devil in the bar. Have at.

simple-tool.livejournal.com

Mistress had bid Tool meet people, and so she was in the Bar proper. She was not exactly sure how to proceed though, as "meeting" people did not fall in either of the categories she was trained to know as hers.

And so she's sitting, silent and still, doll like one could say, with her large eyes and dark lace. A perfect picture of a twelve year old dressed for pedophiles. There's something missing there though, something off. The blank, empty waiting that triggers the hairs at the back of the neck.

Don't worry, she's just a child...

transgenic-max.livejournal.com

Apparently, Max's research has branched out to newspaper articles. Or at least that's the most logical explanation for the stack of newspapers strewn about her booth. She's sipping coffee and paging thoughtfully through them, in no visible order.

Feel free to bother her, she won't bite.

transgenic-max.livejournal.com

Uh oh. Max is plotting something again.

Or at least that's what the blueprints and assorted sheafs of paper scattered around her would suggest. She's biting her lower lip, a nervous habit. Every few moments she glances up. She might be looking for someone, or just keeping an eye on things. It's anyone's guess, really.

She's definitely up for distraction.

simple-tool.livejournal.com

The door warps and twists, bending towards several points at once as if unsure as to which reality it should open forth upon. Then, there is a woman, or perhaps a man, occassionally a tree...a being if you will. A wish had been made, a wish had been granted, it had simply taken time.

The bieng's form shifts and twists almost as much as the door, but the living bundle in her arms does not. No, the pale, small child in a large leather jacket barely stirs before being settled gently upon her feet. "Well come, Tool...to Milliways" Wish whispered before fading away.

Tool opened her eyes, large and soulless, and looked around in puzzlement. Her small hand clutched teh edges of the jacket about her shoulders, covering the lace and silk composition of her gown. The jacket looks familiar, for those who care to look...it belongs to a security member.

The girl on the other hand, delicate, almost elven, and certainly young, couldn't possibly be related.

"Master?"