As far as Dick Winters is concerned, if he spends time in Milliways, he might as well use it while being productive. In this case, he's opted for a swim out in the lake. If one is so inclined, they'll be able to spot a head of red-copper hair bobbing in and out of the water, and a small, neatly folded pile of clothing and a white towel by the shore ( Read more... )

It is with pleasure that Methos takes his place behind the bar tonight.

However, once he is confronted with the prospect of writing up the specials board, his slacker gene kicks in rather hard, and he decides, instead of working his own brain to come up with a theme and drinks to match it, to work the ones of the patrons instead. So:

Get your drink ( Read more... )

Nothing is ever Methos' concern unless he is directly involved in it. So, as it stands, the recent murder is only his concern in regards to the number of nerves that it seems to have rattled. It is, he must say, a bit of a bother. Still, he is doing his best to remain apathetic (which is surprisingly easy, especially for a man of his caliber ( Read more... )

Jane is only slightly surprised to see the Bar, that means that she can have more time than she thought for her reading.

She fetches a cup of tea and looks around slightly, she didn't remember things being quite so tightly wound here before.

Her tea starts to grow cold as she considers and looks for a familiar face to ask.

Outside in the forest tribal drums pound, though there is no one to be seen.

Don. Don don. Don don.Those of you who are observant or just plain sensitive to that kind of thing may notice the wind shifting in the general vicinity of your lower shins. It is now at the backs of the Patapon warriors, guiding their spear and arrows to their target, the ( Read more... )

*enters the bar, looking around cautiously for any sign of the blonde French girl from the night before; seeing none, he heads for the out of the way booth he and his companion occupied the previous evening*

*slides into the booth, giving his companion a rather stern glare before pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one up*

*A massive BOOM splits the air, and the bar is filled with rose petals and flying dirt. Anthy lands on a table. She sits up, fumbling for her glasses, and tries to look as though nothing has happened.*

*Enter a dog. Four paws, german-shepardish, collar. He looks around a bit, then coughs*

Excuse me? Anyone seen a girl? She's got mis-matched eyes, and usually butterflies. Or mice. Or something.

*He sounds a mite aggravated*