Multi-Mun, Multi-Pup XXC (Extra Extra Cracky) Post

[bad_in_latin]

Mal Reynolds, Dave Lister, Barty Crouch Jr, Wes Janson, Angelina Johnson, Shelley Winters and Angelo.

All at the bar.

All drinking.

All approachable.

All Night Long.

[ooc: Seven muns, three computers, all crack. Or whatever else happens. Expect general occasional slowness due to splitting of computers

Comments

[last_human]

"...and then they made me their god," says Dave, grinning, as he lifts his MargariKa* to his mouth.

*Pineapple and Mango Ka with Tequila

[bartyjr]

"Word. And another Beamquake," Barty asks Bar. Bar provides.

Pineapple Ka and Vodka. Yum.

He holds up his glass. "To... to... what shall we drink to?"

[bad_in_latin]

It takes Mal a second to think of what else he should order after Bar clears off the two former glasses of Jack and Coke.

"A VodKa, say xiexie," and apparently Bar understands the capital letters, receiving a vodka and Ka cola.

"...Drink to...Ka," Mal says solemnly, raising his glass.

[shelley_winters]

"Fucking Ka," says Shelley sourly, but unwilling raises her Supersonic Screwdriver*. "Yes, all right. To Ka."

* Grape Ka and Vodka.

[guppy_sandhu]

"Hey Mal, how's it going?"

Guppy comes to the bar. True, he only gets an orange juice but it's still a drink.

*mun waves to London Milliconners from fairly nearby Oxford*

[bad_in_latin]

Blinking off the last swig of a drink, Mal waves amiably to Guppy and orders another.

"Fair shiny, really. Same old stuff."

[guppy_sandhu]

Guppy nods. "Always good to hear. Haven't seen you in a while, how have you been?"

[bad_in_latin]

"Workin' on a job, the same sort o' stuff as always."

Blink. Blink Blink.

"And drinking."

[twostandingby]

Tycho is sitting at the Bar as well (no, really, see entrance post!), and he turns to one side and spots Wes. "So Janson, what's this I hear about a squadron and a party?" he asks dryly.

[i_love_kettch]

"--want me to explain in that order?"

Wes eyes Tycho, thinking for a moment.

"I mean, jus' pick one at now. I think the party's more importan', but that's me."

Did we mention the alcohol?

[twostandingby]

"Okay, what's the party, then?" It's Tycho's self/others-preservation instincts kicking in, really; they've gotten pretty good after all the years flying with Wes, and that smile on Biggs' face when he'd mentioned a party? Yeah, that'd been eerily familiar. And not just in the sense that it was on the face of a man who'd been dead for years.

[i_love_kettch]

Wes snickers slightly, and that right there might be that familiar grin again.

"I'm guessin' you met Biggs. We're planning a party, Tych! A real, all-out Rogue Squadron party -- y'know the bar needs one -- I mean, y'don't, cause you jus' got here, but it does.

"It'll be fun, right?"

[action_antihero]

Jack comes down from a failed attempt at a nap, at first limping toward the fireplace, but on spotting Mal, changing course and veering toward the bar. There may still be a couple bits of glitter somewhere on his person.

"Hey, Mal. Thanks for the note," he says.

[bad_in_latin]

"...Welcome. Wanna a...a drink?"

Whoa.

[action_antihero]

"I'd better not," Jack says with a wry smile, taking a seat on a bar stool. He's moving a little more slowly than usual. "So where have you been off to this time?"

[bad_in_latin]

"Workin' toward Athens. For a job. 'Cause...that's what I do."

Yes.

"You sure you don't want a drink? And what exactly did you do? Rememberin' that I ain't like to remember a lot o' this come morning."

[mctrillian]

"Share and share alike," says Trillian, helping herself to Shelley's Supersonic Screwdriver.

It may be Shelley's personage she's leaning over, but she's actually talking to everyone.

Most of whom she doesn't actually know. Go figure.

[spectral_skin]

Angelo raises his glass to her companionably.

"More the merrier."

[shelley_winters]

Shelley beams unsteadily at Trillian.

"Hiya. How have you been?"

Fuck, the keyboard barely works!