Angel, couch by fireplace, tea and paradoxes, magazine, fuzzy gender line.
Also a couple of packages, to which end he's keeping an eye out for a little sister or two.

Now here's a sight that hasn't been seen for a while. Valentine is sitting at a table, things spread out around here, and writing. There's a stripe of green near her right ear, from a pen that was hiding there at one point. She's humming to herself, as she writes, well, who knows.

Do come talk to her. She's a bit bored.

Jaina's at a booth again with a deck of sabacc cards and a chocolate milkshake. The crutches aren't leaning against the table this time but are stashed underneath, almost completely out of view. Just be careful you don't trip over them ( Read more... )

[OOM: Finally, a normal, quiet day... right?]

The door opens, and a brown-haired, green-clad Corellian enters the bar--and freezes. He'd been to a lot of tapcafs in his time, but he thought one of the other Rogues would have told him by now if they'd converted the briefing amphitheatre into one. Not to mention this was like no tapcaf he'd ever ( Read more... )

"You can't play that card, Mark. You have to wait for the next person to play ( Read more... )

Near the middle of the bar is a decently-large sized table. In the middle of the table is a huge pot of tea, and mugs are strewn hap-hazardly around the table. The people around the table are varied, but all seem to be in various states of agitated discussion about something ( Read more... )

There's an FBI agent putting the finishing touches on today's series of notes doing his best to not be amazed.
He finishes with-

The number of patrons who encompass some part of the strange and the unusual continue to amaze and astound me. While nothing about this place conforms to normal laws of physics, it would appear that each world has ( Read more... )

[The afternoon after this.]Drinking last night was not a good plan. In fact, it was a Very Bad One. Tycho is slumped over the bar unmoving, head pillowed on his arms ( Read more... )

Amy is out in the stables again. She's dragged a bale of hay to just outside her horse's stall, and is sitting on it, reading to the horse from a book of legends and fables from Phantasmorania ( Read more... )

The bar's hormonal-rage epidemic seems to have subsided, so Angel's back to messing with people's typical gender perceptions ( Read more... )