It did get chilly on the east coast, there was no denying that. Gatsby had never had any particularly strong opinions when it came to winter, but as of present, the most he really wanted to do was sit by the fire, which was exactly what he'd done as soon as he'd come downstairs. Though not equipped with anything to occupy himself with, he was ( Read more... )

Over the course of time, Gatsby had fallen into something of a routine, one that wasn't terribly exciting but served him well enough. (He couldn't say that he didn't now and then feel a sense of boredom, but that was something to be relieved in the company of books or an evening spent out by the lake ( Read more... )

After having stayed here for over a year, agreeing to tend bar was the least Gatsby felt he could do in return for everything the bar had done for him. Taking up a position behind the bar (apron and all) he took a few moments to mull over drinks before putting up the specials board.

Specials
Summer Fling
The Lady in Red
Rolls-Royce
And, following a ( Read more... )

For once, it's not a completely hideous day outside, so Saffron decides to indulge in a bit of mid-afternoon sunbathing ( Read more... )

The bar was a funny thing. Since arriving, Gatsby probably hadn't spent more than a couple of hours downstairs before once again retreating to his room upstairs. That, or make his way outside to the edge of the lake. Gradually, a sense of despair had settled over him, which was in all likelihood a sort of cabin fever, but nothing he was willing to ( Read more... )

Gatsby,

This book is for you.

Your friend,
Nick

The note felt unusually delicate in his hand. Lady Bar had given it to him the moment he'd come downstairs for a bite to eat, or maybe a drink. He didn't remember. The word 'good-bye' wasn't written anywhere in the note, but he knew what it meant.

To say that he hadn't felt shock when he scanned the cover ( Read more... )

A new desk, a new chair, a new desk lamp, a new location -- and no inspiration. If I weren't so terrified of admitting I'm blocked I'd ask Ouranos why his great-granddaughters were slacking on the job. Instead, I am sprawled out on a couch by the fire, reading a book, hoping I can get a little inspiration through osmosis.

[ petit tag: paul varjak ( Read more... )

Gatsby was something of an elusive presence within the bar.

He never stayed anywhere for long. If you saw him? He'd give you his trademark smile before vanishing. He seemed almost to be a ghost, flitting about wherever he liked, never seen in the same place twice. Sometimes he'd appear as a silhouette by the lake, hands either in his pockets or ( Read more... )

As of present, Paul Avery is staring up at the tab board. The figure next to his name is something dismal, but he can't really remember a time when it hasn't been. Such is life for a crime beat reporter.

He's drumming his fingers along the bar top, apparently trying to decide whether it would be a good idea to get drunk out of his mind or not.

( ( Read more... )

[ooc: Obviously, Kick has been catapulted into the future. This is only temporary, and she won't remember any of this when she goes back to being 7. ... obviously. :P Also, mun is a little busy, so responses may be slow, but tags are more than welcome!]

The young lady who steps into Milliways this evening is probably not familiar to anyone.

Probably.

( Read more... )