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.]]