milliways_bar | Entries tagged with william evans

When William comes in, he runs a hand through his hair as he hates getting dressed up for the Fourth celebrations in town, he never knows what to say but his mother likes going to them. He takes off his nice jacket and asks Bar for some bunting and heads out to the paddock to hang them up and lead out some of the friendlier horses.

The fair's still going on but he can do something for the Fourth here that he likes. He can be found sitting on a hay bale reading a book of history as Duncan gives his hat and at points hair a friendly nibble.

On the notice board and on the door of the stable, he hangs signs saying: Happy Independence Day! Come ride the horses and enjoy the fireworks tonight.

In the dark of the evening, there will be fireworks and he sets up a little table with drinks, ice cream and a cake with the American flag in strawberries and blueberries.

OOC: Open throughout the week, but wanted to put up something for the Fourth.)

likeroaringlions

I'll have some family business of my own to deal with.

Now it's dawn, another December morning, crisp and fair. His father's in bed, complaining, going back and forth between insisting that he's fine and they don't need to go anywhere, and fussing at the men packing. (William's orders, that. This is no time for Stirling Castle: the Douglases need to be on Douglas land.)

He's got his own packing to do, but as he stares around his chamber he finds his hands shaking. Ah, Christ. Maybe a drink. Maybe a drink will help. Or maybe some solid food.

---

It's a pale, gingerly-moving William Douglas who enters Milliways, and heads straight for the Bar. A glass of wine, some meat. Nothing fancy.

((OOC: the OOM link goes to a scene from the play. warnings for violence at the end.))

not_his_pa

William took the medicine from Bar and Barry which has made him tired. Today he made himself leave his room and take care of the horses, but when he comes inside, his head feels cloudy. When he sits down at the counter, he blinks as his thoughts are full of swords and he shakes his head as he asks, "Bar, could I have a posset?"

Then he stares at the drink he ordered while another part of his mind wonders about this odd outfit he's wearing.

notmygrandfather

Anakin Solo sits in a booth with a large sheet of flimsiplast and some chalk.

He bites his lip as he finishes the translation of the Massassi symbols:

"Peace to all. We are the Massassi. Our children have been imprisoned by the evil Jedi Knight Exar Kun. Locked deep within this palace, hidden in the glittering sands of a golden globe, they await. The crystal that holds them prisoner can only be unlocked by children, strong in the Force and dedicated to the battle of good over evil. If you are the ones, enter the globe and lead our children to freedom."

He definitely needs some cookies and soda.

run_barry

[oom: hero work is easy, life is hard]

When Barry arrived in Milliways after ducking out of his lab he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. He doesn't actually have a lot of experience playing hooky.

Still bugged at Joe, Barry decided to go out back and test a theory.

Maybe trying to run a mile in three seconds just to spite the man who was (possibly legitimately) mad at him is a bit stupid, but it doesn't stop Barry from giving it a go. What does stop him is a dizzy spell that hits not long after he takes off from a starting point out by the lake.

He trips up on his own feet and does an impressive skid and tumble in the dirt, which afterwards finds him back inside, sitting in a chair near the fireplace and picking bits of gravel out of his skinned forearms.

He's noticeably unhappy, and looking rough and dirty. The sleeves of his sweater and the button-down shirt underneath are both ripped, and he has his road-rashed knees to deal with after.

Rethinking the whole 'skipping class' thing? A little.

not_his_pa

"But my Lady Bar, I must have a sword. How shall I defend myself or my king without one?" D'Artagnan sighs, sneezes into the handkerchief he has as he stares at the unhelpful note.

"I will drink a posset since you ask it but this isn't right," He takes up the warm drink she offers him and goes to sulk by the fire, his shirt doesn't seem as warm as it should be and he dislikes feeling so weak and unarmed. At least she provided him with clothing that suits him rather than those drab things he found in the room he awoke in.

neverenoughgold

Two men. Though they sit on opposite sides of the bar, somehow it seems very plain that they are aware of each other-- that they have, in fact, very intentionally turned their backs to one another, and are pointedly pretending the other isn't there.

Both are dressed in black. All black. Down to every detail, black, black, black.

Both have a melancholy look. And rather feverish one. The blond one sneezes.

Also, both have a skull: the blond holds his up loftily, occasionally darting glances back at the dark-haired one, while the dark-haired one hunches moodily, protectively over his.

"I have that within which passeth show," one mutters, darting a glance at the other, who gives a (very Shakespearean) hmph in reply.

[ooc: Both Kevin Kline and Kenneth Branagh have played Hamlet, so... one post, two, uh, Hamlets.]

not_his_pa

When William comes in from the back, he's shaking off his hat, the storm from last night hasn't fully left. All he wants is to get something warm, when Bar asks him to bartend and he starts by getting a big bowl of chili and some cornbread along with coffee as he sets up the specials.

Specials
Hot tea or coffee
Chili
Whiskey
Beer
Free hot drink if you're coughing.

Then he digs into his food and looks around, he's hearing a lot of sneezing and coughing which is never a good sign.

(OOC: I'll be sleeping soon, but this is open until either it scrolls or another happy hour goes up. Use this as a place to share the IMDB flu and sow confusion.)

jedi_interrupted

Things have been good for Ahsoka the past couple of hours. Racing up the cliffs of a deserted monastery (she still can't decide if her master cheated in stealing that clanker's flyer to beat her--part of her does wish she had thought of it first--but riding on an AT-AE was pretty excellent regardless), then they got into a fight with some more clankers and a real live Sith! Of course, the mission didn't allow for them to take out that harpy, but they still ruined her plans and escaped with her prisoner.

Thing that is not so great, though, is that the prisoner was a Hutt larva. Worse yet, it was sick, very stinky, and, of course, great Master Anakin Skywalker couldn't be bothered with caring for a youngling. That was her job.

And so Ahsoka enters Milliways in something of a rush, carrying a backpack with a small, gray, slug-looking thing. Pulling up short, she exclaims, in the near whine of a very put on upon teenager, "This was supposed to be the medbay."

The slug thing whines for real and lets out a noxious cloud of vapor.

[OOC: Warning for possible hutt baby fluids in comments.]

imthepilot

Bodhi makes his way to the library after a few more nights of not sleeping and not coping. Only now he’s not alone. Myrrh the forge cat has adopted Bodhi and has taken to riding around on his shoulder.

Bodhi’s currently curled up on the library floor, almost catatonic. A datapad with The History of the Rebellion open on it has fallen from his hand.

Myrrh is perched on the human’s knee, hissing at anyone who gets too near.

{ooc: the probably of Rogue One spoilers in this thread is high. Very high. Tags are open to all and as always, if you’re worried about spoilers or anything, PM me first and we’ll plan something out.}

[tiny tag - Bodhi Rook]

lark_in_flight

You -- yes, you, whoever you are -- got an invitation to the party. All of Milliways is welcome!

If you choose to come, you'll find Bar directing you to a big round tent that went up this afternoon on the lawn outside the bar. Marius and Cosette and various friends spent a lot of time this morning ferrying decorations in, and the waitrats spent a lot of time in the afternoon ferrying food in, but the doors won't officially open until close to sunset.

But this isn't a cheap white plastic tent, oh no. It's warm and domed and made of thick fabric, something like a very large yurt. A bit of magic keeps out the drafts, making everything extra cozy.

There's a fire in the middle of the floor, with a low screen encircling it but also magic meaning that this fire puts of warmth but will not actually burn anything, even if you step right into it. The floor is wood -- great for dancing, if you feel like it! There's a piano over against the wall for anyone who wants to make some music.

Everywhere there are garlands of European evergreen branches and herbs, studded with bright dried fruit and sparkling ornaments. (Mistletoe might very well be among them, though the Pontmercies haven't thought to supply that as an intentional party game.) There are candles and lanterns everywhere, and a big chandelier. There are no electric lights at all -- it's all fire -- but a good number of them are magical, so that nothing's going to get set on fire or covered with smoke. The general intended impression is of genteel, welcoming festivity, in a very French and very early 19th century European way.

There are food and drinks galore. Come in and enjoy the party!

[OOC: Party-style post! Subthreads for various categories and activities, etc. Open from now until whenever!

Edit: As of Joly's arrival, Cosette now has a mini-polaroid camera. Fear, Milliways. Feel free to assume that she's popped up to take a candid picture of your character(s) at any point, as long as they're not doing or wearing anything scandalous! She will happily give the resulting picture to your character if they want; it probably won't be a very good picture, in terms of composition or focus, but it will be cheerfully enthusiastic.]

clayforthedevil

[elfwarning]

Bahorel is sitting with his feet up on one of the tables, scraps of what were once two coats spread around in obvious mid-project disarray, and a few glasses that were drinks, before they froze, scattered on the table. He's singing a very cheerful song.

It is not a Nice cheerful song.

There's a gently growing pile of elf dolls around him. Every now and then, in apparent response to the drinks, the cheerful song, or other comments, the dolls seem to add to their number. But really, it's getting a bit hard to tell. Still, there's room left at the table for non-elfish company.

((tagging may be slow, but open all weekend!))

thewidewideworld

Sinric sits on the balcony of the bar, a fur coat pulled tight around himself against the cold. The snow is falling thicker and faster now, lacing the trees and the gardens in white.

He sings softly to himself, hands hidden in his sleeves.

Those with a gift for magic might notice a soft net of gold glowing under the skin of his pale cheeks. Even to those without such sight, he looks better than he was, more colour in his cheeks and his eyes look less hollow.

Company would be very welcome.

fieryface

Jamie has found a book. It's an old-fashioned book by the standards of most here-- printed in the 18th century-- but this being Milliways, it looks as new as the day it was first sold.

Inside is poetry.

Jamie reads it with a faint furrow in his brow, but whether that is due to confusion or dislike of the subject matter or from something else altogether, he is also quite absorbed by it, hardly looks up or seems to notice anything that is taking place around him.

O busy ghost, ay flickering to and fro,
That never art in quiet or in rest,
Til thou come to that place that thou came from,
Which is thy first and very proper rest...

[ooc: gonna be in and out, but I'm traveling and have some time to kill!]

not_his_pa

[elf warning]

William's out in the stables when he hears the shots and the horses get nervous. When he looks out the door, he sees the man with the large rifle get arrested, which is something, that big of gun only brings trouble. The horses don't know that and its almost an hour later and full dark out when he comes in after calming everyone in the stables down, then he trips over some of the wooden dolls on his way in.

He moves them out of the way and stares when he gets inside and sees how there are more of them. At the counter he orders a whiskey and a proper steak as he watches to try and figure out what new awful thing is happening in Milliways.

(OOC: Find him outside dealing with the horses or outside.)

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.

mnt_mike

*(offer not valid for turkeys)

Did you see that?
Just a little bit of movement in the corner of your eye.
Wait...there it is again!
What is that?
Is...is that a hand print made to look like...a turkey?

You bet your sweet bippy it is!
Because Thanksgiving is Mike's favorite holiday.
Or at very least it's tied for first on his list of favorite holidays.

If one were so inclined, one could investigate the hand turkeys further.
Upon investigation one might just realize that they create a path that leads out of the Bar proper and in the direction of the Caribbean Outlet.

There, in the warm sand, several tables have been set up.
They're decorated for the season, with literal cornucopias and paper turkeys.

(Lake Rule apply. Tag in, tag often.

guppy_sandhu

There is a circle of chairs by the fire, in a very cosy corner.

In the middle of the circle are large pots of hot, delicious soup, in various flavours. To go with it are crusty bread rolls, if you want them, or croutons.

On the wall next to the group is a sign:

LIFE SUPPORT
OPEN TO ALL
FREE SOUP!

ARE YOU NEW? CONFUSED? ANY PROBLEMS YOU NEED TO TALK ABOUT HERE OR AT HOME? WANT TO MAKE SOME NEW FRIENDS? COME JOIN US FOR A CHAT.

[ooc: Again apologies from Guppy-mun for being late with this. Threadhopping encouraged. All loose tags at the bottom will be picked up by at least one of the LS team.]

fate_or_chance

Sometimes, smuggling work is daring and exciting, as you play a complex, nailbiting game of cat and mouse with Kirkwall's guards.

Sometimes, smuggling work involves standing on the docks in the freezing cold as dozens and dozens of crates are unloaded.

Today was a 'standing on the docks' day, and it was boring and cold enough that it really only took an hour before the guys were passing around bottles of moonshine.

All of which probably explains why Hawke comes stumbling into the bar today, loudly and badly singing sea shanties, nearly crashing into several tables.

not_his_pa

William's stretching as he comes in, some cows are calving, the nights are getting colder and the papers are full of talk of more cavalry heading west for protection.

When he realizes he's in Milliways, he heads straight to the counter to get some coffee with whiskey, a full dinner before going to the fire. Once he's settled, he pulls out his book from his pocket, its a battered copy of Dumas' Three Musketeers. As he reads, he looks around for anyone he knows, it feels like its been a long time since he's been here.

not_his_pa

William has some lariat from home and ropes from the stables that need repairing, normally he'd be doing the work in the tackroom but its cold out there. So he's settled by the fire, retwisting and fixing everything. The ropes from Milliways don't need as much because the ropes are better quality, his rawhide lariat needs oiling and more serious repair.

The television is on and he's found a rodeo on, he's never seen that many people watching cowboys or all the lights, the money being mentioned is huge. Its a bull riding event and he keeps catching his breath and cursing whenever someone falls, he gets riding broncs but bulls, that's something else.

notmygrandfather

Out by the beach side of the lake, you might find a pre-teen Jedi cross-legged on a rock.

Anakin Solo is attempting to meditate. This isn't a strength of his, so he asked his brother Jacen for advice by Holonet back home. Anakin's not entirely certain that "being around as many animals as possible" is going to help him ... but the Force is stronger around more living beings, right?

Eyes closed, breathing slowed, he can sense the fish in the lake and a few crustaceans in the sand.

He can also sense anyone close by (unless they're psychically-shielded), and might give up for an easy distraction.

(Seriously, meditation is so boring.)

likeroaringlions

((So James Moriarty and William Douglas ran into each other at the bar and it seemed like a reasonable idea to look for the Labyrinth. They didn't find it, but there's still plenty of arguing and arson.))

William Douglas comes in carrying a curved stick and smelling of smoke. Cigarette smoke, wood smoke. That might have something to do with the small fire set up on the mountainside, but don't worry, it isn't spreading towards Milliways.

He's also carrying a bit of a Mood over his head, to match the smoke.

clayforthedevil

Bahorel is sprawled over one of the sofas near the fire, studying sketches that are definitely his own work covered with notes that are definitely following the complicated system of illustrations and shorthand that pass for his notes to himself. This, he has no problem studying in public; anyone who would understand the meaning of this scribbled-in cornice or that bit of doggerel is him.

And yet not him-- for one thing, apparently the poor wretch is dead and dead bored from it. More eerie and thus more interesting, whoever sketched these notes claims to have never had an opinionated parrot poking at the work as he made it.

There's the better part of a bundle, wrapped in oilcloth and left in a very sensible spot in the woods, under Thalia's claws, full of denser information in a more usual code. Occasionally, both of them scold each other against pulling anything else out of it.

(In from Daemon AU! Slowtimes likely, but here all week.)

brobrobrobrobro

In the corner, someone (or someones) has erected a temporary stage. Why is there a stage?

For the performers.

There are often live performances at Milliways, but how often do they involve at least a dozen Eastern European Elvis's in rhinestone-studded jumpsuits?

(Only as often as the Jumpsuit Draculas accidentally stumble into Milliways and don't get locked up in the security office.)

(JK, they still sing when they're in lock up.)

Tonight, though, a rare treat. All of them! Performing at once! Singing different songs!

ONE.

NIGHT.

ONLY.

(It sounds *@&#$ awful.)

[ooc: Please enjoy tonight's entertainment, both the music and the inevitable descent into beating people with mic stands. Reactions only. Probably. Unless you really piss off the King.]