When Billy next finds himself in Milliways, he finds himself accosted (if such a word can be used of a tabletop) by the bar, via napkin.

He reads the very pointed note, and goes around to stand behind the bar, instead of moping around in front of it. Billy's drink-mixing skills are barely existent, but he figures he can manage for a little while.

( Read more... )

Dr. Horrible stumbles into the bar, clutching his left arm like it's about to fall off.

(As a matter of fact, that's not too far from the truth-- the good guys usually pack a mean punch.)

To the ordinary Milliways customer, he might not look any different from usual: deer-in-the-headlights eyes, slightly hunched stance, gloves and goggles intact. ( Read more... )

Dr. Horrible, ever prone to the Dramatic Entrance, strolls through the door.

You can't see it behind his goggles, but he's moderately surprised. He looks around, touching a nearby chair with a gloved hand to make sure it's actually there, then smiles.

"Excellent."

Bruce always seems to be dirty when he arrives here. This is not, however, the skanky came-in-from-prison dirty it once was. This is good clothes, carry-ropes-and-flashlight, cave exploration dirty. And careful observers will note he no longer has that haunted look about him. He walks with purpose.

Also, he's thirsty.

'Just a coke, please. Diet

While not one usually to succumb to such things, Dominic has taken one of the couches by the fire, back against one of the arms, legs stretched out on the seat. There's a folder on his lap, and he's going through the contents in a somewhat detached manner. He's slightly more involved in the fact that the jukebox (apparently dormant - or at least in ( Read more... )

So... here's Billy.

He's over in a corner, slouched down in one of his favorite sweatshirts. He's looking down at a small, handheld device and pressing buttons busily. Every so often, he sighs loudly, takes a dramatic drink of the lemonade on the table, then goes back to pushing buttons.

He's probably approachable. Come say hi.

Kitted out in full lab gear (goggles, lab coat, and gloves), Dr. Horrible marches into the bar and sets up shop. Unfortunately, all he had was permanent marker, and it took a few tries, so the sign on the table looks something like this:

ATTENTION, PaTRONS:
Victims Subjects Assistants needed for scientific experiment. Probably Completely safe ( Read more... )

Billy stumbles in, bleary-eyed and red-nosed.

He's feeling odd today. This morning, he got the urge to put on a suit. Now, every time his eyes sweep across the bar and sees a chick (woman), a number from 1 to 10 pops into his head.

He staggers into a sitting position at the bar, and rubs his head. Tension-type headache, caused by fatigue and likely ( Read more... )

Toshiko. At a table. Drinking a white wine spritzer after a long day translating alien texts at the hub. However Tosh is quite incapable of leaving her work at the office so she also has a little hand-held gizmo that she's currently taking apart to try and find it's power source.

Company is welcome.

[ooc: Car keys post for Dr. Horrible. Open to ( Read more... )

oom:  conversations with a dead girl.
(he's not dreaming, this time.)