milliways_bar | Entries tagged with tower

OOM: While everyone else is occupied with bodyswapping, Abe no Seimei discovers the Tarot card he's looking for ~~is even more cheeky than he is~~.

[OOC: A big thanks to Maru for bringing you-know-who out of mothballs for this odd little adventure.]

destroy_restart

You haven't seen him often, lately; and you're not likely to see him again.

But tonight, Tower is in the bar, in his usual shape of a middle-aged man, shuffling idly through his favourite deck of tarot cards, brownish red and gold, the images oddly Christian, full of saints and biblical legends in Eastern icon style.

Tower is smoking a big cigar, and drinking scotch, while pondering his cards. If you talk to him, he's likely to offer you to draw a card for you, to see what you'll have to look out for in this new(ish) year.

[[OOC: This is the very last EP for Tower; I am retiring him in February as I need the slot -- but I thought I can do that card madness thing one last time. As always, Tower's cards are not rigged -- if your charrie is taking a card, we need OOC contact to randomise the draw. I am sootymun on AIM, and yakalskovich on gtalk/Google mail. Thank you!]]

destroy_restart

Tower is by the fireplace, drinking scotch and idly playing with a lovely red-and-gold tarot deck.

If you talk to him, he might offer you a card, as he has done around this time of year before.

[[OOC: Open all weekend! Tower's usual warnings and provisions as per his user info apply. Please be available on AIM or Google Talk (or at least per email) so we can draw a card together. I don't rig Tower's readings, as usual.]]

mechanicalswans

Weyland would have you know he is not brooding.

He doesn't do that anymore. He doesn't need to; he's a happily married man with a viable plan for world destruction. No, what he is doing is simply leaning against the bar and watching the door, maybe studying it for the energies of transportation in the same way that they studied the window for the energies of destruction. He already knows how to make portals, but the energies here are different, that's all.

And he hasn't taken up smoking again to calm his nerves, either--no, he'd simply found some in his room, and is indulging in a bit of harmless nostalgia over a glass of Atlantean. Remembering his world the way it had been, and imagining how it will be once they've remade it.

And this has nothing to do with the fact that he hasn't seen Loki in a week now. He isn't doomed to spend all eternity wondering where his current wife has gone off to. For one thing, his world doesn't have eternity. For another... well. He'll think of something.

Distractions are welcome.

[open forever!]

ostro_goth

It is Saturday morning, and everybody is having breakfast. Of sorts.

Teja is having tea, coarse bread, moretum, and sliced cured meat at a table; very traditional. From time to time, he may be dropping small shred of the cured meat to the floor, where four cats are casually lounging under his table.
Urquhart has cooked himself a nice large breakfast in the kitchen, with eggs and black pudding and bacon, fresh bread rolls, jam, and butter, in addition to a large pot of coffee. He's having all that at a table by the window, reading a book. Franz the dog is sitting by his side, being very good and trying to neither look at his human's food, nor at his face in a hopeful 'Can this stop and c an we go out now'? sort of way.
Ned Poins comes staggering in through the door, from a dirty medieval alley somewhere in London (most probably near Eastcheap, or even in Southwark). He looks a bit green about the gills, and definitely hungover, giving a grateful little groan and slouching against the bar. He urgently needs something restorative, but has no notion what to ask the bar for. "Most noble Lady Bar, I am a wretched wretch; have you any suggestions to better that?"
Antinoos arrives all energetic, from the scorching desert, wearing sensible hunting clothes and carrying some spears, a rather large but healing scrape on his cheek making him look less a pampered plaything of late Roman decadence, and much more like an actual and commonplace young man. Oh, this place again! Here, he can finally drink all the fresh cold water!
Tower has already been here. He's been here all the time, really. He's eating a very large and sophisticated omelette, and drinking a caffé coretto while grinning at the general populace.
Lorenzo sneaks in, with his lute; he was on his way to a lesson and is utterly delighted to be spared it, for the moment. He orders himself pancakes and waits for whatever this wondrous place may bring.
Margolotta is by the fireplace, having cocoa while doing the Ankh-Morpork Times crossword. Just a little light distracting relaxation before turning in for the day.
Tamara the mermaid has dragged herself from the lake and sprouted legs, the way her kind does on dry land; she is wearing a short and flimsy silk dress that covers all the necessary places without leaving much to the imagination, and eating sushi for breakfast, which she is obviously enjoying a lot. She does not look harmless at all while doing so.
Sirona is sitting at a table with a large disposable coffee cup that probably contains something quite objectionable (to coffee purists), and her little laptop, giggling at something on the screen.

[[OOC: This Saturday breakfast post is nevertheless open all weekend! Say in your tag whom you want, or you might get anybody.]]

no_mere_marble

The door opens on a kitchen. It's a homey, comfortable Italian country kitchen, containing an old fireplace, a slightly less old kitchen range, and a large table that you just want to keep sitting around for the night.

And an unexpected motorbike.

The motorbike is being wheeled through the kitchen and into the bar by the Goth whose kitchen it presumably is (more or less; it's just a borrowed place that has come to him through Demeter). Usually, Teja only rides his motorbike there in that world, in early 21st century Tuscany; but today he wants to tinker a bit with it in his forge, so he pushes it into the bar, kicks shut the door, wheels it gingerly around the furniture all through the bar, and then out through the back, to the forge where he will be working on it. Catch him anywhere on the way!

Urquhart is outside, watering the garden. There might still be a thunderstorm today; but on the other hand, there might not be, and the plants need water in any case.

As he's at it, he gets vegetables and herbs to take into the kitchen, and an assortment of berries he's going to bake into muffins, later. He's still not clear whether he really cares about people, or if he just spoils the people he has ulterior motives about, to make them more easily compliant to whatever he actually wants of them

But it doesn't matter, does it? He's going to make muffins, and then he's going to offer them to the people he knows and likes cares about knows and wants something of.

This is confusing! The dog, however, is much less confused and just lies in the sun, dozing. Franz knows nothing about doubting motivations. He just loves his humans, and likes almost everybody else. If you approach him, he'll definitely wag his tail at you with no ulterior motive.

Outside at a table on the lawn sits Antinoos, who has fled from sweltering Alexandria to this much more temperate and pleasant Caledonia. He's got a large pitcher full of cold water with a bit of lemon balm and ginger floating in it, and is poking at -- some electronic thing on which you can play games.

To pass the time, he's asked the bar for a game, and because the bar ~~or his mun~~ was being mischievous, out came this beeping device from the future.

He is trying to make sense of it, but the jury's still out on that.

Somebody might want to help him figure it out?

Tower has decided to take the summer off. Enough things have been Tower'd in recent years; now it's time for other archetypes and entities. That's why he's in a hammock on the beach of the Caribbean inlet, drinking rum from a coconut.
Not far from him, Tamara is happily drifting in the water, playing with a cute little squidlet. She's decided to keep that one as a pet.
Sirona is sitting not far from Antinoos, working at her trusty laptop (still the little Sony Vaio) and trying not to giggle at the boy in the chiton fighting with electronics from the future.
Margolotta is in the bar, drinking tea by the fireplace and making lists in a rather large ledger. For somebody like her, the summer sun is bad, and there is always work to be done anyway.
Lorenzo stumbles into the bar a few moments after Teja has come in, from Tuscany as well, but a very different time. He's carrying a lute and looking around, first in bewilderment, then with a big grin. Seems somebody just escaped a lute lesson! Never mind it will be waiting for him when he goes home. At least, it's not right now!

[[OOC: Here are all the pups of mine -- say in your tag who you want!]]

areyoumyjolly

Yes, the mermaid has dragged herself out of the water, shifted all the way to human, put on a loose short little dress she keeps handy for that, and walked on increasingly steady legs to the bar, ordered a milk shake and a tuna sandwich, and sat down at the bar, her long bare legs crossed in a way that reminds you of a mermaid, sitting on a stone, tail-fin tucked under. And for what?

For squid, of course! Squid are considered cute by mermaids, and 'Tentacles of Our Waves' is on. At some stage between her first visit inside and now, Tamara has caught sight of it, and decided she likes it, and wants more of it. And now, she's getting more. And a milk shake.

We can't tell what Sirona has been up to in her world, but it was probably stressful and involved a lot of deviousness, because when she comes through the door, she wears a pin-striped business suit, heels, almost no make-up, and her hair is dark.

She seems quite relieved to finally have found the bar: she kicks off her heel, takes off the jacket, sits on a bar stool not far from Tamara, spares the squopera a curious glance while her coffee appears, then takes her computer from her briefcase and starts it up.

There is a ladder in her black hose, on the back of her right calf, running halfway up.

Margolotta is having tea, at a table not far from the fireplace. To a vampire, other people's morning is more like evening, so it's a herbal tea with a subtle scent and favour of cocoa shells. She is reading in a small leather-bound book, stroking a small unidentified furry creature in her lap, and smiling to herself.

He jumper, though, isn't pink as it often is, but spring green, and the pattern isn't bats but small dark green flowers. Apparently, somebody has made it for her, and she is faithfully wearing it.

She is, of course, quite botherable as always.

Tower is by the bar as well, leaning on a corner, smoking a cigar and reading a newspaper, at which he chuckles at times.

In his mug there appears to be strong black coffee, hot and slow-moving like lava.

He feels like taking a holiday. It's not the right time for him now. The world is being pestered by somebody else at the moment, and Tower considers the Caribbean inlet at least for a short break. There's a mermaid there, isn't there? He could really have fun with mermaids...

He ignores the squid thing.

Lorenzo, finally, is at a table just a few feet away from the bar. He's got a cup of something in his hand but hasn't sipped from it for many minutes now.

He's staring at the screen over the bar. There are squid on it. Squid!!

Now, that would be something to really surprise Leo.

[[OOC: All here until it scrolls -- just say in your tag who you want! Thanks!]]

molto_magnifico

Inside the bar, Lorenzo is watching the girls present. He should totally meet more girls. Teresa had been so cool, but there'd surely be some that were less of a noble knight and more of a girly girl?
Lady Margolotta is by the fireplace, drinking tea and knitting. On her shoulder, a small indeterminate dark animal is huddled. It might be a very small fluffy cat, a rat, or perhaps a tame ferret? Or something unique to the Discworld? Or -- a bat?
Tower is by the bar, smoking a large cigar and very slowly sipping from a glass of scotch. What else is new?
Tamara, however is outside, in the lake, perched on a rock and looking alluring in the mellow afternoon light.

molto_magnifico

Margolotta, who doesn't like sunlight at all (being a vampire) is the only one of these four inside on this beautiful morning; she's sitting in a dark corner by the fireplace and reading a book about the care and breeding of cacti.
Tower is at his favourite place in Milliways, that is, leaning on a railing that secures a steep part of the lake shore, not far from the archery butts, and smoking a cigar. The thick, pungent grey smoke is rising straight into the blue sky. He's winking at the mermaid when she looks his way. He knows about her!
Tamara is lounging among the rocky bits of the lake shore, not far from Tower, looking out for entertainment, young men, or both. There is in fact a likely specimen quite nearby. Plug ugly, but they don't have to be pretty to be entertaining. ~~Or tasty.~~
This is Lorenzo, who's going through his basic fencing forms and feeling mightily adventurous and knightly for doing it under the open sky in a place like this. Oh, wait, is that a girl among the rocks? Whatever is she doing there?

[[OOC: Brought to you by today's DE. Tag Lady Margolotta inside, or any one or several of the others outside, or indeed try to save Lorenzo from ~~being eaten by~~ the mermaid.]]

destroy_restart

It's started.

Tower takes a look at the crystal over the bar, squints at the window, winks at the scurrying, worried rats, and goes to the bar to order a scotch. Instead, he gets a napkin.

"How very fitting."

He gets himself behind the bar, looks a few things up in the little black book, and writes two specials on the board.

When his lovely sister Star turns up, he just waves her over, and hands her the chalk (after a brief peck on the cheek). After all, there is a bright side to everything, even to general apocalypse.

Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse

Leaning Tower

Doomsday

Golden Star

Harbor Lights

Faith, Hope & Charity

A free drink for everyone who dares take a card from us!

Then, the two cards (the dark-eyed old man, and the lovely blonde young woman) wait behind the bar for customers.

[[OOC: Two muns, two pups. As announced a few days ago in the Backroom, we have a special chat room on AIM for this: tarottwostep -- request invite from sootymun or jgphoenix if you can't self-invite. The cards we draw are not rigged, but it might help to know what the question might be. Thanks! ~~Threads are in slowtime at the moment, but not quite finished; more tags will still be welcome, but may go slow all the way.~~ Good Morning Milliways! Chatroom is open again!]]

source_fairy

Sirona is sitting at a table, with her laptop, typing away. Since the T-Minus network allows you to reach different universes, she can actually piggyback her own signal on the server traffic and work on stuff from home in realtime while she is here. It gives her an enormous advantage -- twisting time without employing too much of her own power. She's enjoying herself tremendously. That programmer from Florida sounds incredibly promising. His illegitimate father is living in -- Suttgart? Well, Frankfurt would be handier, but it's too good a coincidence to pass up on... She is drinking strong coffee from a large styrofoam cup, and whistling to herself.

Nearby, Tower is sprawling on a wing-backed chair, smoking a big cigar and sippign scotch from a glass dangling from his fingers. He's watching Sirona -- she is quite pretty in an intereestingly outlandish way, and seems to be plotting some deep-down havoc he quite approves of. Whoever will be at the receiving end of that grin probably deserves it. At the same time, Tower is watching the rest of the bar, fascinated with all the different stories behind and fates ahead of all these people.

In the back of the bar, near the kitchen door, there is a little girl with a very big chocolate milkshake, drawing on a large piece of brown wrapping paper with red and black crayons. It's actually supposed to be a comic strip about some things she's been to with her friends from this place, but as her comic drawing skills aren't yet up to professional level, they more look like petroglyphs, or perhaps the cheaper sort of Egyptian tomb murals, than the usual Super-, Spider- or Batman material. However, every great artist has to start somewhere, so Bridgette is scribbling away with utter concentration, and happy as a clam.

At the bar, Donovan is sitting, looking a bit squashed, in rumpled white linen trousers and a faded black polo shirt, with flip-flops on his bare feet. It's not the right weather outside for it, but perhaps it's wherever Donovan has come in from. He's drinking one tiny cup of espresso after the other, but doesn't look any more awake over time. From time to time, a glass of water appears on the bar as well, and Donovan takes it and drinks it all up. Apparently, it hasn't become any easier being a were-swan in a world full of vampires and were-predators.

Ma'at, finally, is sitting by the fireplace, wearing a nice short-skirted business suit with a pair of dark tights printed with pale pink feathers as the only colourful accent. She's drinking white wine from a long-stemmed glass, and seems quite content with herself and the world at the moment. Of course, things are only moving forwards in slow spirals, but at least they are moving, things are happening, and people seem to have refused going back to ignorance and inertia. The goddess has great hope for the world at the moment.

[[OOC: These are the five characters I plan to retire with the move to DW; however, I wanted to give them a last chance to talk to people, and/or to find out if I'd rather not let go of one of them after all.]]

scots_wolf

Urquhart is at the fireplace, brewing up mulled cider in a copper kettle over the open flames.

Sirona is in a booth, drinking green tea and giggling at something on her computer.

Teja is in the forge, working hard on a batch of silver-and-gold mokumegane.

Ma'at is at the bar, in a brilliant mood, drinking good champagne. Voting in her country has started, and things are looking very hopeful.

Tower is by the lake, leaning on a wooden railing and smoking a huge aromatic cigar while grinning into the middle distance.

Tamara is in the Caribbean inlet, staying safely away from the wintry weather the rest of the lake is subjected to.

Bridgette is by the back door, looking out. It never gets this cold in Phoenix!

Donovan is on the lake, swan-shaped, casually eyeing the bare-breasted mermaid swim around.

Lady Margolotta is at a table near the door, working her way through a very long list that covers several pages, occasionally sipping her tea.

[[OOC: To celebrate the fact that I'm now officially back, here are all my pups (minus the one I never got to EP yet). Open until it scrolls; say in your tag whom you want!]]

scots_wolf

It is a cool and rainy Scottish afternoon by the lake, the rain now pouring, now drizzling from the fast-moving clouds over the lake. The wind is gusty, and even though it is July, there are some moments in some corners along the steep lake shore when it's positively unpleasant. Despite this, some people need to be outside. Among them are:

Urquhart, who is walking along the lake shore with the dog, who is getting muddier by the minute and loving it. Urquhart is wearing an oilskin cloak that covers his long blond hair and obscures much of his face, so what you basically see from afar is a tall hulking black-cloaked shape trudging along, and a smaller brown-and-white four-legged creature flitting back and forth. Occasionally, Urquhart throws something for the dog to fetch, and then Franz takes off at top acceleration, mud flying everywhere.
Tamara, who is of course outside; going inside might be an option if she forces herself on dry land and gets legs instead of her tail fin, but it's not a way of thinking for her. Rain is normal and harmless anyway, if a bit colder than what she's used to in the Caribbean. She is drifting on the surface, not far from the shore, and holding out a hand to collect rainwater in her palm and lick it off. Mermaids get their liquids from their food, as all marine creatures, but she likes the exotic taste of freshwater.
Teja, who is in the forge, working on a project which is, for once, not metal but wood. Still, he has a fire going as it is that kind of day, and as the cats prefer it that way. While he is whittling away at something round and intricate, all three cats are sitting on the stack of logs next to the door, well under the eaves, and peering out into the rain with profound feline disapproval.
Tower, who is paying the bar one of his rare visits and has gone outside to smoke a cigar after some women by the fireplace gave him a nasty stare for it. Tower rarely minds nasty stares -- he's often bad news as it is -- but one of the women had an especially pointed nasty stare, and he didn't feel like an argument. So, Tower has pulled down his hat and is leaning in the corner between the bar itself and the extension where the infirmary and day room are situated, protected by a porch, smoking his cigar and looking at the clouds. Eventually, he'll go back inside and get himself some scotch.
the lonely swan that's watching the mermaid and might be another patron, and if so, he might be admiring her figure. On the other hand, it might just be some random swan being random.

Most people, on the other hand, keep inside and try not even to look out of the window. Or perhaps look out of the window with a hot drink in their hand, to feel even more comfortable in contrast to that weather. Among them are:

two off-duty goddesses lounging on a couch by the fireplace together. They have pushed a little coffee table against the wall and set up a TV screen and a video game console on it, and now are playing a number of ever-changing little games. Sometimes, they slouch on the sofa drinking tea and discussing how to best push virtual banana crates around, then they lean forwards steering cute little biplanes or scooters through some funny obstacle course, and then they giggle at the game where they need to shoot virtual cardboard bandits and leave the girls which pop up as well standing. Sometimes, they jump up and do something more energetic, using their remote controls as tennis rackets or baseball bats. Neither of them looks very divine today -- warm socks, leggings, hoodies, and hair tied up into pony tails seems to be the fashion of the day. One goddess has dark hair and a feather on the back of her hoodie; the other has a silver snake pattern on her leggings, and her hair is bleached to colourlessness, with pink strands in it. Lately, they have acquired a rubbernecker -- a little girl that hangs over the back of their couch and keeps cheering them on, no matter what game they play.
Lady Margolotta, who is sitting at a table, with a pot of tea, some cookies, and her knitting. Even though it is grey and raining outside, she's keeping well away from the windows, choosing instead a lamplit nook on the far side of the fireplace.

[[OOC: To celebrate the fact that LJ is alive again, have one of my Saturday everybody posts as I used to make them in my now sadly defunct else!game. Console games courtesy of my sister's Wii -- I don't really know much about them, just have played a few of them last Sunday night with her and her family.]]

destroy_restart

Tonight, there is a man by the fireplace who hasn't been seen for quite a while. He is smoking a large cigar, has a glass with the obligatory finger's breadth of single malt scotch, and is idly flipping through a deck of cards.

The odd thing is, it's a different deck every time he turns over a card.

[[OOC: The Tower is the major arcanum of the tarot that announces the destruction of the old and familiar (and probably no longer working) in order to make room for something new. What he says to people will not necessarily be nice or reassuring. Also, if anybody asks him for a card, I will randomise it and not load the dice so it will be something fitting. This was true ever since I started playing him, but many muns active today have never met him, so I better add the warning again. For more detail, please do look at his user info. Thanks!

ETA: ~~Please be in AIM to be talked to if your charrie wants a card; I use a different method this year.~~ Closed! Please, no new threads. Tower needs a special frame of mind. Threads already started will of course be finished! Thanks for the fun.]]

scots_wolf

Sirona is sitting at a table, drinking Red Bull and writing code in ~ATH. While it is the most fiendishly baroque language she's ever wrangled (positively byzantine!), she does find it easier in here. However, a program able to communicate between different realities will be so worth it when it's finished. And be incredibly useful for her own project with the voting computers.
Donovan is swan-shaped and swimming on the lake, which is bearable in the midday sun. He is slightly worried at the thought of a giant squid suddenly touching his feet. But to be honest, that adds spice and excitement to what he is doing. Which is drifting around on the lake, white and shiny and elegant, looking completely unconcerned.
Bridgette has climbed onto a bar stool and is having a milk shake while constructing a house-of-cards from beer mats. It's quite impressive at this point.
Teja is by the lake shore, practising baseball. His sparring droid, Valentinian, is pitching, and Teja is batting. Valentinian throws a very mean curve ball.
Margolotta is sitting by the fireplace, knitting something pink and sipping cocoa from a black mug which a silver spiderweb design. On that cocoa, tiny pink marshmallow bats are swimming.
Tower is watching a movie from 2010 on an iPad that he's brought in from somewhere. He quite likes the movie, especially as he's in it. Sort of.
Urquhart is leaning by the back door, smoking a cigarette and wondering whether it might be fun to draw his crossbow and shoot one of the Ostrogoth's baseballs in mid-flight. On the other hand, he could try and be friendly to the man and talk him into helping with the education of that boy the other day. One medieval Scotsman can't do that on his own.

[[OOC: Say in your tag who you want! Bonus points if you know which movie Tower is watching and show it in a way that involves no puncturing of the canon in question!]]

scots_wolf

Margolotta is sitting by the fireplace again, drinking tea. She's not knitting now, but reading a book. Over the rim, she's keeping an eye on the bar, especially the one she's come to think of as 'Moist von Lipwig's tame not-quite-werewolf'.
Urquhart, the man in question, is lounging nearby, refusing to budge just because some vampire lady is eyeing him with something between distrust and amusement. He has put up his feet and is reading a large book with a very, very magenta cover entitled 'Indian Cooking Basics'. There are pictures in it, and he's turning the leaves very slowly.
Somewhere between them and the bar, at a table around which the air is shimmering strangely, Tower and Sirona are playing Chinese Checkers, also known as Go. The game is getting very intense.
Donovan Reece, the ~~wereswan~~ swanmane, is sitting at the bar, drinking a caipirinha and looking quite tired. He's spread his arms on the surface of the bar almost like a bird that's so exhausted its wings are drooping.
On a rug near the back door, Bridgette is sitting playing with her new magical toy dog. She's teaching it new tricks, and absolutely absorbed with what she is doing.
Teja, finally, is sitting on a bar stool, his back against a pillar, playing his guitar and singing his quiet way through much of the folk-rock repertoire from the late 20th century. His axe is leaning against the pillar, and his Security badge is completely visible on his belt.

[[OOC: Say in your tag whom you want!]]

ostro_goth

Tower hasn't been in for quite a while. Somehow, he didn't feel like drawing cards for everybody on New Year's, this time around. There are so very many new years, anyway. One per world per year. You could never stop the prophesies if you were going to mind them all. So Tower is by the bar, drinking scotch and not thinking about anybody's future and destiny at all. Instead, he thinks about the coming spring, and women. Women are always nice to think about.

Teja is sitting by the fireplace, turning a small, nasty crossbow in his hands. This is not the weapon that killed him; Teja has a good idea as to what happened with that one. Between a Bright Shiner, Charter-kindled flames, and a sizeable dead body consumed by them, one small weapon does not stand much of a chance. No, this is the weapon that Urquhart brought upon his second entrance, the same thing over, just as Teja brought the harp and battle axe again, when he returned. He has worked out, by now, how this weapon works, and would like to see what one of these may do when fitted with a metal 'bow' part of folded steel, as Teja makes it. But he will not improve the murderer's weapon for him, but will return it as confiscated, upon his release. Studying the weapon, Teja is trying to understand what man it may be that would work with one such. High-handedly, most Ostrogoths would have pronounced it a coward's weapon, to carry hidden and shoot from far away; but Urquhart is no coward. His purpose, which this weapon serves, is utterly different from any Teja has known for himself: - that is all!

Two chairs further on, there is a sleeping swan-king, rolled up in his chair, empty can of Red Bull on the floor. Not even that could keep Donovan awake. He's just knackered; his life is terribly busy, and often terribly exhausting and frustrating. No roots, no home, no girlfriend, no steady job other than doing his duty on the behalf of every feather-brained swanmane in the whole damn country. He was very happy to finally find the bar again, and is currently celebrating it by conking out.

Sirona is sitting by the bar, experimenting on -- something. She puts little silver things on the polished surface, watches them vanish, and then asks for something else, which is invariably green and rectangular. Her little Sony Vaio laptop is open on the bar beside her, and she takes notes on something that almost but not quite looks like Excel -- the spreadsheet program in OpenOffice.org, of course. Sirona has finally found a use for the long-forgotten votive tablets people used to give her when she still had followers, almost two millennia away, and is converting them into computer parts, noting with fascination what the bar will exchange any given part into. For some reason, the leg tablets always turn into graphic cards.

Urquhart isn't there. He's in the cells, getting antsy now.

[[OOC: Say in your tag who your pup wants to talk to! Urquhart can be visited in the cells when you follow the link.]]

ostro_goth

It was Tower who had started talking to the young woman with the mostly pink hair, and within five minutes, they were arguing politics. Sirona was quite passionate about it. "It's the people's business, and it's their prerogative to make mistakes," she was declaring when Teja walked past.

"It is, indeed, the people's business," the Goth said, "but a wise leader will protect them from the worst mistakes. If one is entrusted with leadership, one must serve them, not glory in power."

"Being a king sucks!" Donovan said, sitting right beside Sirona with a beer. "Everybody looks at you to fix their shit."

They argued for a while, but now they are all sitting around a table with drinks, and teaching the Ostrogoth to play poker. Donovan, Sirona and Tower are finding that really funny.

[[OOC: Say who you want in your tag, or you might get several!]]

ostro_goth

On such a fine morning as this, there is always a number of people outside, happily doing outdoors things. Among them are today:

one purple god of magic, wearing a green gardening apron, and weeding between the roses in the garden by the back door of the bar

one tarot card, smoking a large cigar while leaning on a fence near the horse stables, watching the animals graze peacefully

one dead Ostrogoth, wearing nothing but knee-length shorts, and surfing -- yes, surfing! -- in the Caribbean inlet, as Xaldin taught him last year

one relaxed swan king, still wearing black drawstring pants, a white tee-shirt, and black flip-flops, sitting on a rock by the lake with a very large iced latte, and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

the_cupbearer

[OOM: Revelations. In which things go differently than planned, but not badly.]

Ganymede does not usually resort to doing anything out of nerves. He has a book he's hardly paying attention to, and a glass cup of wine that is strong, and sweet, and nearly as dark as blood, when he glances into it. And a little bit of string he's knotted up and unknotted again and again for the past twenty minutes.

He couldn't go outside just when he wanted to practice archery, because of the light summer rain still drizzling. But he keeps rubbing at a spot on the side of his neck, that looks something like a hickey, only darker, and sluggishly bleeding when he touches it. He looks...conflicted.

[OOC: warning in the above link for sexual content.]

the_cupbearer

He isn't precisely hiding.

But sitting in a chair in one of the many corners of this place isn't exactly presenting himself for display, either.

Still, he's not averse to some company.

wheatencrown

Demeter is tired and mending a rip in her dark shawl, the simple act is rather calming as she thinks on what can be done when you're in pain.

Talking to Jason in the infirmary brrought back hard memories of a time when all she could do was hurt and even life seemed far away.

Tiny tag: Demeter, Val von Doom, Duet for Claws and Swords

lady_moon

Moon has been restless.

Very restless.

She's moved between various worlds over the last week, unable to remain anywhere long, and eventually her feet led her back here.

Something is coming, but she doesn't know what. A sense of anxious unrest has settled inside her, her path -- and the path of the wolf -- are blanks for her. It's something she's never known: not knowing.

She's curled up on the couch, her scarlet skirt vibrant against her white skin and white corset. Moon's just staring at it. She's never worn red before. She doesn't remember putting red on. But, there it is.

Red.

Moon has also known how together her mind is.

And that, more than the colorful skirt, unnerves her the most.

lady_moon

[OOM: The tarot cards hold a family meeting, and everyone shows up for it.]

ten_of_swords

There are seven tarot cards seated around a table.

They regard each other.

Ruin is sipping his beer, eyes darting to Moon occasionally.

Wheel and Strength are sitting beside one another, Strength's two lions staring at Moon's two wolves.

Tower is smoking a cigar, holding a glass of scotch in his hand, and smiling to himself in not an entirely pleasant way.

Star is sitting, or as near as she gets to it, on the back corner of their table setting up a long line of multicolor dominoes which are crisscrossing the table.

Moon is huddled in her chair, her skirt now three-quarters red, her bright eyes staring at the dominoes Star was placing on the table.

Mary Anne has a glass of tequila and her copy of the Art of War (closed, in her lap); her feet are propped up on a chair stolen from a neighboring table.

A family meeting, the first in Milliways, and the uneasy silence has to be broken sometime.

[OOC: Seven pups, five muns, though Strength and Wheel's mun isn't available just yet. Post is open, chatroom is available -- tarotepchat -- and we encourage tagging. :D If you want someone specific, specify in your tag, otherwise, it'll be a free-for-all.]

[OOC: Aaaaand we head into slowtime. Thanks muchly!]