It's been a while since Zechs has ended up in the bar, but then, his life has been anything but calm or the past year or so. There have been too many things for him to do that require every scrap of his attention, to suffer any sort of distraction or interruption. There's a price to pay, he's learned, for having so many roles that he has to fulfill ( Read more... )

The door opens, and closes, on a scene of trailers at night. (Some are lit up, and several aren't. The last show of the night is over, clean-up's done, and most of the circus folk are heading to bed ( Read more... )

Trowa's on a couch. With coffee, and no expression. (And ridiculous hair.)

So: business as usual.

Duo is jogging around the lake. It makes for some rather mind bending exercise, considering the portion of ocean that goes off into it's own horizon, and the mountains at a variable distance, and the stars that may or may not be in the correct constellations tonight. Not to mention the cool air and leaves crackling underfoot ( Read more... )

Trowa has a table. (Not for keeps.)

And improbable hair.

And no expression.

So: business as usual!

[OOM: Millitimed to, um. Some time ago. After Duo, being his normal self again, comes to the bar and finds out what has happened during his absence. He receives a note or two.

Then, he goes home.]

Some days, you can only handle so many closed-door meetings with diplomats trying very hard to pretend they can keep a civil tongue in their skull before the whole enterprise drives you straight for the nearest form of solace available; in Vice Minister Relena Darlian's experience, that solace is the interior of a tea shop and the promise of a ( Read more... )

Duo's at a table, one arm over the back of his chair, legs stretched out under the table. Set on the tabletop is a palm sized computer. Every now and then he taps at the small keyboard sticking out of the side, but most of his concentration is on the projection hovering above it ( Read more... )

Duo is sitting slouched in a booth. He is currently occupied by glaring at a bowl of soup and some crackers as if they have personally offended him. Both appear untouched ( Read more... )

Ah, the bar. Heero has not been in this place for awhile. Life has been busy, and perhaps the door has respected that, and his incessant urge to have no necessary distractions. On the same token, it also seems to recognize when he does need a distraction, and places him right in here ( Read more... )