milliways_bar | Entries tagged with viola

((OOM: Hal and Viola have some actual communication, pretty much.))

It is high time, Viola realizes, she stops loitering in Milliways and gets back to Illyria. One sign that she has lingered too long: her hair has gotten too long. Not too long for the sake of her disguise-- indeed, many of the gentlemen of Orsino's court prefer theirs long-- but distinctly longer than it was when she left.

So now she may be found sitting at a table in the bar, a bowl and a pair of scissors in front of her. She looks less than confident in how to proceed.

never_promised

((OOMish: After the various IMDB flu adventures, Viola could use a bit of quiet and Hal is supposed to be catching up on 80s music. But they end up on a detour into some other subjects. Also someone should probably explain earphone etiquette to Hal.))

never_promised

Once again, Harry Monmouth wakes up in a nest of used tissues and weird magic-science. This time, though, he properly wakes up, and is properly himself, and like any reasonable person grabs his crown and flees the scene of whatever debauch just happened.

Perhaps an hour later, he reappears, dressed in his usual just-kicking-around-Milliways doublet and hose, blowing his nose into a fresh handkerchief, and settles by the fire with a small bottle of red wine and a beef stew.

He's not sure how he feels about the whole shaving thing. The beard made him look a little older and more kingly. But it's not like he has to look older and more kingly now...

never_promised

Loki (forget Harry Monmouth, this is Loki and he's going to keep on being Loki as long as he can) has set up a fortress of...something...at a table near the bar. A fortress of sciencey magic? Special-effectsy junk? Hot drinks and a growing pile of tissues? He wouldn't do this in public if he didn't have to, but this body is sick enough that going back and forth just a few feet between the table and the Bar is exhausting. Definitely not going to be hauling things upstairs to his room.

And what are all these things? Besides the hot drinks and tissues, it's odds and ends that are as close to Asgardian magic tech as he can get out of the Bar. (Sometimes he gets the feeling she's just being stubborn. Come on, what does she mean she can't give him a thoughtmirror crystal? It's a simple request! Ugggh, he doesn't have time to reinvent millennia of technological research.) But even for someone well-versed in Asgardian tech it might be a confusing jumble. That's...probably because he's working on two or three things at once, most of it camouflage for his real project.

Oh. And he's found time to upgrade his style. Can't do much about the hair, but he's gotten rid of the beard. And he's in green and black. It's funny how losing your ability to cast illusions makes you that much more attached to looking like your true self.

mjolnir_retriever

Loki is settled, and Thor is --

is --

Thor has too many feelings roiling inside of him for calm, and nothing at all productive to do with them. And the longer that's the case, the less easily he can keep all those feelings inside, and keep a calm head for everything needs to be done. He knows this. He's been ready to punch something, to batter the world into a better shape, since Loki in Hal Monmouth's flu-ridden body first croaked brother? from the floor.

So.

There's a thunderstorm outside: boiling clouds, lashing rain, lightning leaping from cloud to cloud. And there's an Asgardian inside, roaring.

Later, when the rain has slowed (but not yet stopped), and the clouds have lightened (but not yet parted), Thor is sitting on a rock on the far side of the lake, well away from the bar and easy passersby, slumped with his forearms on his knees and his head bowed. He'll straighten up if anyone comes by, and he'll go in soon, but -- not quite yet.

[OOC: IMDB flu-related, though Thor himself is not currently suffering from it. Open to threads either when he's in the storm or after, but when he's in the storm he's not likely to respond much or at all, so it might be just a reaction post kind of deal. Afterwards, he'll respond to friends, but non-friend threads will probably be quite short, though they're still welcome if you want to take your chances.]

never_promised

Loki wakes in someone else's room with a headache. Which isn't so strange. But whose room, how, why? Absolute blankness. No answers. No memory. That's strange. And there's no one else here.

Survey of the room: small. Boring. Ugly. Books on a table by the bed. Doors that presumably lead to closet, hallway, washroom. Clothes scattered around, leather and cloth. A crown sitting on top of a dresser, in front of a mirror.

It isn't until he looks into the mirror that he panics--and it isn't even seeing his face framed with reddish-brown hair, a beard, a scar on one cheek. It's when he flexes his mind to change back to himself and nothing happens, that's when the panic comes in. He stares at his hands, wills them into another form, and nothing happens. The face in the mirror stays the same, the hair, the beard, the nightshirt, nothing changes, and that's--terrifying.

In fact, he can't do anything. Anything at all. He can't stretch his mind past this ugly little room, can't make this physical body do anything more than its most base animal functions. Blink his eyes. Grimace. Laugh. Stand on tiptoes. Jump a few inches. Lift a book, lift a chair, can't lift the bed. Bite his lip until it bleeds. Smile. Frown.

Wipe away the blood.

Strip.

Find new clothes: red velvet robe, leather boots. Dagger. That draws blood too.

Walk to the doorway--and wait, no, not yet.

Pick up that crown, place it on his head. Frown. Smile. Wipe away the blood again--just how fragile is this body? He feels awful, headachy, everything-achy, weak, too hot and too cold.

Frown, smile.

Walk downstairs.

Survey his new territory.

(("Loki" here is coming mentally from the same timeline/universe as our Thor, in a headachy flu-ish way.))

merryeccentricities

It's a very bright night out.

And very cold.

But there's a patch of clear water in the icy surface of the lake. Which has prompted Joly and Bahorel to interrupt a late-night walk with a Conversation on the merits of ice swimming.

( tl;dr they're swimming in an icy lake like people who make great choices. Anyone's welcome to join in, or point out the obvious flaws of the plan. )

death_gone_mad

Last year, a prowling, yowling thing caused the Yule Goat to set itself on fire. But this Wintumber, the night is dark, long, and lonely. Well, save for a waxing quarter moon, but by midnight it disappears below the horizon. If only if it wasn't for the pesky cold, such a night would be perfect for mischief.

--

The sun does eventually rise, and those who rise with it and look toward the lake will see a giant shaggy goat made of bamboo, hay, and palm fronds standing on the lake shore, staring at Milliways. Its eyes, made of cacao husks, look almost insectoid this year.

It is completely coincidental that Captain Sarah Black came in through the back door half an hour or so before sunrise, wheeling in a cartload of barrels, full of fragrant roasted cocoa beans, grown right in Milliways' backyard. At least that is what she has claimed every time she has come in with a shipment. At the present moment she and some of the waitrats have taken over a wide table near a window with a good view of the lake. They have been haggling over the price of chocolate, the quality of the beans, and Captain Black's outstanding bar tab for what seems hours already. There have only been two pauses in the intense negotiations so far, one for breakfast and another before that for... well, the waitrats are still trying to figure out why the captain requested a bunch of lobster traps and string from the bar before going out the back door again. It was still before sunrise when she got back.

Interruptions might be welcome?

[Elf-free except for threads which spawn off the first comment, let's keep the little devils contained]

idareyou

Mary has no intention of letting her new home overwhelm her. Absolutely not: it's her home now and she is very brave. A very brave queen. But as she's exploring she hears voices in the hallway and just right now she can't bear the thought of another meeting where they talk loudly and slowly into her face and then talk to each other with her right there as if she can't understand--which mostly she can't--and you can hardly tell the lords and ladies from the servants--

So she whisks herself up a narrow stairway and into a storage room and starts poking into the chests and wardrobes and pulling things out to see what's what. Very busily. So she doesn't have any time to be afraid or lonely or anything like that.

Which is how a Pretty Princess comes to Milliways for the first time. Enter a girl of about fifteen, holding a cloak in her arms, looking very very startled.

cutting_edge_physics

The front door opens, allowing in some crisp leaves (and some not-so-crisp escaped napkins from the hot dog guy down the street), as well as one experimental physicist/engineer. Now, see, she was going to take apart this toaster she found in a dumpster back at the Firehouse, but here will work just fine too, and she bets she can get, like, all of the Pringles here.

The best plans are the ones that are adaptable, after all.

So, engineer, with toaster (and her conveniently portable toolkit), headed for the Bar.

never_promised

Some time in the late afternoon, a cloaked man with a bow in hand and a leather sack slung over his shoulder slips through the door and makes his way upstairs. An hour or two later, a showered, clean-clothed, trimmed and shaved and smiling Harry Monmouth reappears in the main room and takes up a seat with a good view of the length of the bar.

"Dame Bar," he says grandly, "Do you add to Harry Monmouth's reckoning the next score of orders given you. Beginning with mine own--some sack!"

Drink up folks, Hal's buying.

((Oh man, apologies for the slowness. Flu vaccine reaction hit me yesterday and everything hurts.))

never_promised

"By God," Henry the Fifth of England muttered to no one in particular a little while ago, "if Wales should carry the day, I'll take me through the hall clad in naught but her banner."

So blame it on a post-life crisis, blame it on football, blame it on alcohol, blame it on Bar producing a sizeable flag at the moment the full-time whistle blew. Blame it on Henry choosing to be a man of his word. But here's a tall man draped in green, white, and red, running through the barroom with a whoop and a holler.

He's hoping to make it to a door before anyone stops him.

livinginmyglass

When Viola's view screen pops up, she lets out an involuntary gasp and immediately hunches over to shield it from view: for there , next to the options to become a fox and a-- robot?--, is the option to become a boy. What are you trying to do, Bar, give her away?

...but then again...

She presses the button. Outwardly, nothing much changes. She always did look uncannily like her brother, after all.

Outwardly.

[ooc: moderate slowtimes, especially over the weekend, but since she hasn't been around in a while, open 'til whenever!]

livinginmyglass

Viola is not sure, by the strange reckoning of Milliways time, how long she spent in the Enchanted Forest after returning there. And then one day, as she passed the threshold of Kazul's cave to pay a visit, she found herself back in Illyria, safe in her chamber, instead. And that is where she has been.

And now she returns: running full-tilt, an unsheathed rapier in her hand. She is quite pale, trembling somewhat, but her expression is not one of fear-- and when she looks around and realizes where she is, the mad mix of emotions she has experienced in the past twenty-odd minutes-- panic, terror, confusion, indignation, joy-- bubbles up into a fit of laughter.

never_promised

Another morning, another blank wall where the Door should be--oh. Oh. Oh, thanks be to God in every most profound way, there is his door home. Hal is about to bolt through when he realizes he's not in the clothes he was wearing before: it's all much the same, but everyone has his eyes on a king, especially on board a ship, and someone is bound to notice if he has changed his hose or combed his hair differently.

He bolts from the room and comes back in a few minutes, and then--hm.

Hm.

All right, one more thing. He asks for pen and paper from the bar, and sits to dash off two quick notes. One quick note, anyway: To Sir Henry Percy, thanking him for his good care of the horse Barbary and entrusting him to Percy's continued care. And one less-quick note.

To my good Cesario...

Yeah, this is awkward. Could take a while.

((Hal's heading out of the bar for a bit, but go ahead and catch him here first!))

never_promised

On the other side of Hal's door, there's London, and a dying king. His dying king; his dying father. On this side of the door, there's--well, what is there? People to scold him for drunkenness just as at home; a friendship with Viola that's on the verge of growing just a little too complicated; a truce of sorts with Hotspur, also complicated. And, it turns out, no refuge from politics even among his fellow libertines.

Distinctly lacking on this side of the door is any real escape from London, and a dying king.

He's thrown a few things into a leather bag, and is paying out his tab, when a napkin-note appears on the Bar. What? Really? Well--it's not a bad idea.

Hal asks the bar for music, scrawls a hasty sign up behind the bar and settles in to one last bit of fun:

A most happy hour
Beer and sack GRATIS

Hey everyone, party on Prince Hal's tab!

((So, the time has come to bump Hal forward a little in canon and he's throwing a party before he goes. Thread-hopping encouraged! He's going to be slipping out at the end, but he'll be back in Milliways again soon...as Henry V.))

((Aaah, sorry for being so slow today, somehow it's just a very...low-energy day over here. But it's still open! I'm tagging back, just slow.))

the_lioness

Just inside the bar door, Alanna sees Carol, or Carol sees Alanna, and the following very serious conversation takes place:

"AHHHHHH!"

"WHAT...?"

"WHAT IS HAPPENING?"

"I'M SO SHORT."

"I'M SO TALL! AND AND..."

The narration pauses while Alanna glances down.

"GODDESS."

Well.

This is new.

[OOC: Tag one or both! All threads to occur post Alanna-Carol. Slowtime likely, per the usual. :) ]

bloodyrockgod

Charlie is playing guitar out by the lake, singing ( this )

Move along, nothing subliminal happening here.

[~~ooc: must invoke great slowtime of going home. will be back shortly.~~]

becomingphoenix.livejournal.com

Jean's sitting downstairs in front of the fireplace, blanket wrapped around her and a mug of hot chocolate in her hands. Her body can't seem to get warm which is probably why she's shivering. She doesn't like it. And if anyone were to try and telepathically contact her... try to enter her mind they'd come up empty and she wouldn't hear them. She can't hear anyone within her mind anymore. Not Scott... not the patrons of the bar... no one.

She's still yet to figure out what happened. Because all she knows is the immense pain, the screaming she'd done... the flash of heat and how it and the fire had spread out over her and Scott and then it had been gone. Leaving her cold. As if she'd been thrown into a pool of ice. For once she didn't know what to do. How to get her powers back. She felt...

Empty.

darkluthor.livejournal.com

Lex had a full day, making it to court to see his father sent to jail without bail. Lex had heard his father was dying of liver cancer, and it tore at him to decide in not helping him. But he wasn't the one to have murdered family, without reasonable cause. Lex made sure Chloe was fine, settling into witness protection and Lana had made her flight to France before returning home.

As Lex pulled up to the mansion, he wondered about stopping by the Kent Farm to check if Clark was okay. Their friendship was already fragile, so it was probably in his best interest not to go chasing him. Lex had opened the front door of his mansion in Smallville.

It was something he didn't expect to come home to... he saw people inside his own home, no one he knew. Loud talking sounds filled inside. He closed the door behind him and saw a bar, people behind and infront of it, and even some animals. His eyes bulged wondering what was going on.

Help the poor confused Lex Luthor?

shepherd-sgh.livejournal.com

'If you’re willing to take the chance, the view from the other side is spectacular.'

It's eight in the morning. Dr. Derek Shepherd enters the elevator at Seattle Grace. He inputs data into his cell phone, sends out a few text messages, wonders why he hasn't ever made use of his BlackBerry and never fails to look up whenever the elevator doors open, feeling a slight tinge of disappointment when it's not Meredith Grey that he sees.

At the last stop, he steps forward and exits out into - Milliways.

Welcome, McDreamy!

Current Location: Seattle Grace Hospital --> Milliway's Bar

undignified

Wes has been ... around.

Today, of course, "around" means "behind the Bar", with an obnoxiously green shirt under his jacket and hair still damp from a shower.

There aren't any specials on the board, but he probably won't just suggest whiskey if you ask. Maybe.

"Hey -- what can I get you?"

[ooc: off at 3pm for a