[OOMAITF (Out of Milliways And In The Future): Some thirty-five years from the relative "now", Ford Prefect finally decides to retire from the Guide. As you might expect from Ford, this gets him into a bit of trouble. Fortunately, he's not left to his own devices, and gets by with a little help from a friend. Complications, as a certain captain ( Read more... )

[ooc: Millitimed to before Faith and Michael's exit]Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent have seen a lot together over the years. They've been through the destruction of more than one planet (or, to be more precise, the same planet, more than once), and have traversed the length and breadth of the galaxy, from one temporal end to the other ( Read more... )

Beer's out. So's caffeine.

Kaylee is at the bar, full of consternation. And indecision. What Mal made her the other night was tasty, but she's not in the mood for something quite that substantial. ANGST.

There is Faith, in a booth, smiling.

Her stomach has a little more curve to it than usual.

She's covering it with a hand, and humming softly.

Unlike last night, it's the back door that opens to admit the Doctor tonight ( Read more... )

"...Why am I suddenly made of yarn?"

He's not asking this to anyone in particular. This isn't the weirdest thing that's ever happened to him. Not by a long shot.

SPROING! Leap dash scamper skid POUNCE!

There is a fox outside by the lake demonstrating that not only weres are vulnerable to the effects of a full moon. He's scampering in mad circles, kicking up snow and then pouncing it, biting, shaking his head, rolling...

He's having a ball.

He welcomes anyone who wants to come play with him.

Well, here's a sight you don't see every day.

Arthur is comfortably curled up in a booth, back against the wall, with Samantha's two-month-old son in his arms. He's currently reading the boy some of the tamer Guide entries.

Elliot looks supremely uninterested.

Mark. Bar. Bagel-and-lox. Book.

Add verbs, adjectives, adverbs, and shake well. Instant entrance post!

The door to the bar opens, slowly, and a telephoto film camera lens peeks through the crack. After a moment, it retracts, and Mark walks through, looking just a bit more relieved than he really ought to in the situation. Striding over to the bar, he pulls out a film pen and scribbles something on some small pieces of storyboard paper. "Bar, can you ( Read more... )