zelly is an amazing detective/genius

for code, for images, to check that things work.

Peter comes into the Bar today in a rather cheerful mood.

It's been about a month since they defeated the White Witch and he and his brother and sisters were crowned Kings and Queens of Narnia by the great Aslan himself.

It'd been a slow but steady process, building Narnia up again to a place of peace and prosperity but the hope is always there.

It is made better when a victory can be claimed, too. Today, in particular, they managed to find a small gang of the Witch's straggling followers, those who meant to harm good Narnians even now.

He gets a drink from Bar, something they can't get in Narnia - Coca Cola - and settles into a seat, his sword resting before him on the table.


[OOC: Just roughly post-The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Come greet an old-as-heck headvoice returning to my brain!]

The latest visitor to enter the bar this afternoon is one Sheriff Graham.

He's been here once or twice, but is - by no means - a regular patron. Crossing through the door of Storybrooke's sheriff's department to Milliways remains something of a surprise for him.

Even when he's incredibly (and fairly noticeably) distracted.

Quickly composing himself, Graham strolls toward the bar and orders himself a coffee (which tastes just as good as the stuff at Granny's) then settles onto one of the barstools.

He rubs the spot between his eyes and wills for all the thoughts in his head to make some form of sense, though he's not entirely confident that it could.



A little while later, a Huntsman arrives, trailed closely by a wolf with one blood-red and one ink-black eye.

The Huntsman orders himself a dinner of vegetable stew and a pint of Bar's best mead, and then heads towards the fire. The wolf, it can be noted, comes and goes as he pleases and the Huntsman does nothing to stop him.

(He is, after all, a friend and not a pet, and the Huntsman would never order the wolf to do anything he didn't want to.)



[ooc: This is totally a test-drive post as I flounder a bit, trying to figure things out for him! The more interaction the better, so please don't hesitate to tag him!

Also, a warning: show spoilers maaaaaaaaaay happen if you're not all caught up yet. Sheriff Graham's particular EP takes place around the beginning of 1x07, and the Huntsman is more or less pre-canon.

Just indicate which man you want. This is legit open forever and slowtimes are pretty much inevitable.]

Winter is Coming.

Those are the words of her House.

Not until now has she realized how important those words really are. The oncoming danger, like her father said. And the need to protect each other.

Even Sansa.

Even if her big sister was horrible sometimes.

Still, it's nothing to get too worried about. Not while she's got lessons with her dancing master, Syrio Forel, anyway.

(Which is her favourite part about being in King's Landing.)

Except ... well, this isn't the Small Hall.

May 27, 2007, 00:57

"Your hair's different."

"A lot of things are different."

She sits in her hotel room, takes a breath and buries her head in her hands for a moment, before rubbing her temples. Oh, this is not going to be good. Last night's conversation with Derek hadn't exactly gone the way she wanted it to -- but she kept her cool. She's good at that.

"It's longer. I like it. It's very Russell Crowe."

Not that she came to Seattle for him -- well, not exactly. First and foremost, she came for a job, a request from an old friend and her first day working at Seattle Grace was tomorrow.

She lets out a breath.

Tomorrow she'd have the opportunity to see her husband. It will, no doubt, be a little different seeing him in the workplace with the broad daylight, the flurry of people and doctors, and the absence of night after all this time. Maybe, more importantly, it will be different seeing him knowing he's found himself a ...girlfriend.

"And now you have a girlfriend in Seattle. She seems - sweet."

Addison isn't jealous. She had deserved it. What did she expect Derek to do, anyway? He runs away from Manhattan, runs away to rain-city Seattle without telling her and starts a new life. Did she really expect him to remain faithful?

"She's young. That whole wide-eyed, ooh he's a brain-surgeon thing happening, but still sweet. Which was what you were going for, right? The anti-Addison?"

She finds herself shaking her head, straightening her composure, and blankly watching the city's skyline outside of her window. Okay, so she may have added a bit of resentment in there. Sarcasm, even. She is good at that, too. But she knows there will be time to explain everything. She's not the sort to give up, especially not on the man she loves. And oh, she loves him pathetically in a way that surprises her.

"All right, Addison...just do what you came here to do first...everything else will follow after."

She reaches up and runs her fingers through her long deep reddish hair (for lack of a hairbrush), checks herself in the mirror, then picks up her briefcase before closing the door behind her. Only, when she goes through, not thinking about it in the least, she looks up to find herself in a space that doesn't look at all like the hotel hallway.

And on the other side of the bar is a young man nursing a long-gone-cold cup of tea. He's staring blankly at the Window where the Universe is ending, half of him stupidly wondering if he'll spot the TARDIS somewhere in all that space.

The Doctor.

His insane adventures.

... Amy.

Vampires. Bloody, sodding vampires in Venice.

(Well, aliens with vampire-like qualities, but. You know. It's difficult to wrap his mind around any of it, really.)


[ooc: Open indefinitely and open to anyone!]

From here.

The door to the bar opens with a resounding slam, as though the young man who (after pausing for a moment, thoughtful, calculating) walks through the entrance has brought a tremulous maelstrom with him.

He stalks across the cosy, quaintness of the bar with deliberate steps, past several confused, frustrated and curious patrons alike, finally arriving at the Bar herself.

"Whiskey," he says, "neat."

No response.

"Oh, come on," he grumbles. "I object to this refusal. I have had my share of alcohol back home, you know."

Still, the Bar does not grant his request.

A pause, then the boy requests in a low voice, "Tea, then. Scorching hot, if you will."

At this, a particularly delicate looking piece of white china filled with his steaming hot beverage appears, complete with pretty saucer and silver spoon.

The boy mumbles a reluctant (and vaguely put-off) 'Thanks' before he rubs the spot between his eyes. Upon closer inspection, one might notice that his face is haggard and he looks as though sleep has been hard to come by for days.

Glumly, he drops in a cube of sugar and pours the milk before stirring.

And stirring.

And stirring.

Distracted? Oh, yes.




[ooc: For those of you who know canon, Nat here is taken specifically from The Golem's Eye of the trilogy; for those who don't know the canon, Nathaniel is the grumpiest, most pompous fourteen year old you'll likely ever meet. But under stress, he's a lot more willing to share. Maybe.

:D?

Just trying this pup on for size, because I freakin' love him.]

"... by the Gods, it's been a while."

It's the first thing this generally familiar young man says upon entry to the bar.

He still looks a little worse for wear, still pale, still skinny, still a son of Hades (that kind of thing never stops; it's in his blood) - but at the same time, that lingering cloud of sadness and anger is absent.

He's tired, but he's happy.

And? He's no longer wearing a big, oversized bomber jacket and a whole lot of black: in fact, his scrubs are your typical greeny-blue. There's a white t-shirt underneath them, peeking out where the V-neck of his top slopes. And his runners are white and blue.

He runs a hand through his shaggy, unkempt hair. He isn't even sure what to do. It really has been that long.



[ooc: This is Nico when he's a lot older - in his twenties. This is so obviously post-canon and after he's been locked out of the bar since he was twelve. He's medical student. Ask him why!]