realmrsreynolds: (Default)
[ooc: Continued from here.]

"Home again, home again," Sallie intones when she unlocks her apartment door to let Splinter in when they arrive. There isn't much to Sallie's place, and it's certainly smaller than the suite that Splinter, Leo, and Mike share. It is all one central area, with the bedroom cordoned off with a latticework screen, the bathroom beyond that, the kitchen in the opposite corner from the entranceway, and the main sitting area consisting of a sofa, Sallie's recliner, a table and a vidscreen. A piano is on the agenda, but Sallie hasn't gotten there yet.
realmrsreynolds: (Default)
It's a project to work on - writing out good questions for hiring bartenders. What to ask and how to ask it; making sure that the job is right for the person and the person is right for the job.

But it needs input.

Sallie leaves the main bar where she'd been working and knocks on Mike's suite door. Mike, Sallie calls mentally. Got a minute?
realmrsreynolds: (Default)
Sallie is enjoying the quiet of her apartment in the Staff Wing. Quiet makes stuff easier. All sorts of stuff.

Even if Splinter's thought processes after their field trip are still rattling around like dried peas in a can.

The lilac ended up in a bud vase on the kitchen counter, and seeing it makes things better. Not easier. Just better.


May. 16th, 2012 08:03 am
realmrsreynolds: (dame in a skirt)
Would a Milliways community/group thing on AO3 be something anyone besides me would use?
realmrsreynolds: (stop and smell the flowers)
It's been a quiet day in Milliways, so Sallie decides to peek in on Mike's suite. She knows he is probably in the middle of training, but -- it's lunchtime! That means a break. Right?

She knocks on the door. "Mike? You dead yet?"


Apr. 13th, 2012 10:06 am
realmrsreynolds: (Default)

Demeter has offered to take me on a field trip to her house in France as a little vacation. This is just a note to make sure you don't go worrying in case you can't find me.

Take care of yourself while I'm off!

Sallie Reynolds, world traveler



Don't do anything crazy while I'm gone. Taking a vacation for a little while so that you don't give me more grey hair.

I'll be back very soon. Don't worry.




I am going to France for vacation with Demeter. If you're nice I'll bring back a postcard.

Take care of yourself, please.




I am going on a trip to France. It's very zen, I promise.

Keep an eye on Mike. (I know you will, but it's a habit to say such things now.)

Be back soon,



And anyone who asks:

I am off on a trip. If this is a bar emergency, please see Mike or any Security staff member. If this is an emergency relating to my universe, please find my son Malcolm. If this is any other category of emergency, please find someone better equipped and present to help you. I should be back in a few days.

Sallie Reynolds, Barman.
realmrsreynolds: (wheat)
Sallie is in her apartment, flipping through information on a datapad about France, early 21st century.

It's always good to research, she thinks, but there's so much to still be done - Sallie needs to head back over to Mike's place to make sure he doesn't need anything.
realmrsreynolds: (wheat)
Mike is fine. The bar is fine. Malcolm is fine. The books are fine, all paid up and everything's been given to Skouris for a week off.

Everyone is fine.

Besides me, Sallie grumps at herself, staring at the small luggage case on her bed on Shadow.

"You're actually taking a vacation?" Peter had asked.

"A working one!" - like taking a vacation was some sort of insult.

"It's about time is all. Go have fun. Bring me back Ice Planet."

Well okay then.

(She still leaves Skou--Peter a thank-you note.)

In Milliways, Sallie leaves her notes for the appropriate people - Sam, Mike, Charlie, Splinter, and anyone who asks for her.

And then it's just a matter of waiting.
realmrsreynolds: (close-up concentrating)
Sallie has furniture now, and enough baking supplies that she can get into the swing of some normal things.

(She hasn't been home to Shadow since Waking Up, and she's aware of the need to at least see what happens there. But.)

Until further notice, she is at home in her apartment's kitchen working on a peach cobbler.
realmrsreynolds: (Default)
Sallie's hiding.

Calmer, still, but hiding.

At least she has paperwork that she can do in her apartment. It makes her feel useful while minimizing contact with patrons.

Until there's a quiet knock at the door.
realmrsreynolds: (contemplative)
She's going to do it today. Have a regular bartending shift and regular conversations that don't revolve around -- whatever she's supposed to call what's happened to her.

Two hours later, Sallie is in a booth with her head down on the table, when she's not looking morose and staring at the crowd of people in Milliways today.

It never seemed like so much before.
realmrsreynolds: (dame in a skirt)
To Sallie, the safest place in Milliways right now is her own apartment.

It's surrounded by her own things, and she knows all the stories, all the whys and hows and what's happened to each piece.

She can touch things without getting migraines or worse, here.

Mike is fine. For a given definition. Bar is fine. Malcolm is fine. Sallie however, is pacing around her kitchen.

Most assuredly not fine.
realmrsreynolds: (wheat)
Milliways is home to innumerable unusual objects and circumstances.

There's something though, to this latest series of events. The green crystal floating above the bar seemed too close, too foreboding to be really ignored. Not that Mike is taking much of this seriously.

Shouldn't we be worried? Sallie frowns at both Mike in her mind and the dishtowel in her hands.

Sallie can't tell if the image comes from Mike or from Bar herself, but suddenly she's thinking of crocuses coming up along the edge of the woods by the lake.

"Someone's been doing guided meditation with Splinter again," Mike smirks.

"Is that so bad? Keeps me from thinking about -- "

"The other new and potentially weird thing that just randomly showed up unannounced?" There's a playful edge to his dry and sarcastic tone.

"Don't start with me - this is different. I know it is." She might be overly defensive about this, but feelings are nothing to discount! Right?

Mike's hands raise in a quick surrender the moment the Don't is spoken. "I admit, it is different. What with it being all green and floaty. But different doesn't mean bad."

Sallie still looks incredibly dubious about it all. "I'd feel better about it if I knew why, is all."

"Someone around here is bound to know. And if not I'll wager that the someone who does will be arriving momentarily. It's how this place rolls."

Another look from Mike. "Okay, okay. I'll relax."

Time passes, and Sallie relaxed - until the next thing happened. And the sky changed, and everything in between.

"Eh,...this is fine!"

"Fine? The sky is red outside, the horsemen have galloped by, and I can't even name all the things goin' on! SARAH's gone feng kuang de, Malcolm got lost in Ambergeldar -- "

"'s nothing. I'm sure it's nothing."

"Mike, I love you, but you're lying to yourself."

Mike has no more answers than she does. But Sallie leaves it alone, in the end.

Until all sorts of hell breaks loose.

"Mike!" Sallie tries to shout over the din of everyone running for their Door. Waitrats are scurrying against the crowd, and so is she.

She'll be okay, and so will Mike. So will Malcolm and Inara and Sam and Dean and all her friends.

They have to be. Where is he!

Mike's been keeping himself more than busy tending to his own concerns, a final sweep of the Staff Wing and just now finishing one last go around the infirmary to make sure everyone's hauling out of Milliways.

It's not safe. Of course it’s not safe. How could he have been so stupid? So naive? So blinded by false hope?

Enough people have cleared that Mike can spot Sallie when he walks out of the infirmary towards the main bar. He has time to register the wave of relief coming from Sallie's mind before a tinny cracking sound starts above the both of them -- the red crystal splitting down the middle in painful-looking shards and letting out this wave

hitting Sallie square in the back, pushing her to her knees

hitting Mike in the chest with enough force to throw him into the wall behind him. It's only after he leans forward that one can see the Vorpal Sword strapped to his back.


Sallie crawls then, in the near-dark, over the rubble.

He's alive! I can hear him breathing! The only other thought is that it's too quiet why this why now when she reaches him -- "Mike?"

"No, Sallie," comes out of Mike's mouth when she reaches him and it's the last of the effort washing out of her when Sallie lays her head down next to Mike's body. His arm is slick from a cut under Sallie's fingers, and reaching up to his face smears the tear-tracks of blood there. Can't clean him up can't do anything

"Sallie. Don't fret." Mike's voice is too even for the situation, for him, and it doesn't console Sallie in the black at all.

She's haggard now, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry -- "

"No. We'll be alright."


"You'll see."

realmrsreynolds: (Default)
Long Pai is not Sallie's game, but she's bored as hell, so she's playing a solitaire version, legs tucked up under her on her sofa in her living room. Mike is playing with Magellan - throwing out geographical place names and the little globe spinning wildly to show the requested position - and Malcolm is a wave away, but.


He's allowed his own existence. Entertaining his mother, distracting her from the insanity of Cubefall, is not on the agenda.
realmrsreynolds: (wheat)
People like to explore in Milliways. It's a thing they do, and it usually doesn't worry Sallie too much, even when she has to see a lot of it via Bar in her head.

What does get her out of her apartment in the Staff Hallway is the sight of one more rat than usual in the kitchen. One who has a cane and no bullet holes.

"Splinter?" Sallie asks, coming into the bar's kitchens with her apron already tied around her back and neck. "What are you gettin' up to in here?"
realmrsreynolds: (sallie but lighter)
After a very successful dinner with Rue and Peeta, Sallie and Charlie had very serious business which needed attending to.

Namely - Earth-that-Was western films. Sallie's been doing a little research, but not much. Mostly all she has in the way of preparation is a DVD player and a television set for the occasion.

"Which one first?" is what Charlie receives in lieu of a hello when she opens the door.
realmrsreynolds: (wheat)
Sallie never changed how much she normally cooks for dinner, when planning out the menu for her three guests for the evening. She always over-prepares to begin with, and now with two extra places at table, it might all get eaten this time.

Except for how Peeta shows up with freshly-baked bread for the table and Rue is holding what looks to be a cake box - Sallie is somehow fine with not needing to break out the pumpkin pie she'd baked that morning.

Watching Charlie and Rue near each other makes Sallie's thoughts go all sorts of blank and fuzzy whenever she thinks to look up at them from her plate. The size differential is enormous, but Charlie never asks her any questions more than small talk, as though Sallie's suggestion about violence not being the best thing ever had expanded in Charlie's mind to laying off some of the heavy-duty questions he might otherwise ask. Then again, she has never seen Charlie around a child, so --

Sallie notices Peeta watching her taking in the pair opposite them at the table, and Sallie squints her eyes shut and looks back to her mashed potatoes, prodding them with unnecessary fervor. Damn, she thinks, but the recorded piano music playing from the living area shifts to banjo and it is unique enough that Rue asks about it. It's a shift of attention Sallie appreciates.

For once, Sallie doesn't fight off volunteers to help clear the table. When Charlie stops by her to whisper that he has the films he promised in the bag he'd brought along with him, she grins and suggests perhaps the next night. "I'll bring the popcorn," she promises.
realmrsreynolds: (dame in a skirt)
"Mind the barley."

It's always a different obstacle lining the floor of her pantry, but the warning's the same as Sallie and Charlie walk through the Milliways door to the back end of her food-storage space.

But out in the open area of the house - well-used kitchen, sliding glass doors to a low afternoon sun and living area to the left of the pantry door - it looks like a home.

And Charlie's in it.

realmrsreynolds: (grinny grin grin)
Sallie's out at the main bar today, enjoying a cup of coffee and making her way through receipts and supplies that needs to be restocked behind the serving area --

When a red flashing alarm light goes off above her head, and a banner unfurls across the bartop.


"Ugh. Who told?"

[ooc: Open to anyone, and flexible as hell.]
realmrsreynolds: (feeling old)
Mal's reading the letter from Beau. His father. Again.

"This is insane." Sallie's shaking her head to her son's reaction before he's even finished stating it.

"You don't have to do it. You don't even have to talk to him. Ever. You hear me, Malcolm? Please don't do this because you think I want you to -- "

"Ma. I ain't got any intention of doing this because I think you want me to."

Well. That was unexpected. Sallie sits up straighter in her sofa, the apartment the only quasi-neutral ground she could think of where she and her son could speak. Malcolm has stated standing when he listened to his mother's story - a father he remembers in vague images and nothing more than indifference - and still he can't manage to have more of a reaction than a flat regurgitation of Sallie's words.


"But I could use the job. Don't much care where it comes from." When Sallie opens her mouth to cut him off, he starts again, "He's got his codes to wave him on this. I'll talk to him. See what he wants. On my own terms, Ma - I need you not to worry."

"Pfft. Fat fucking chance, my son."

Mal makes a face; listening to his mother say 'fucking' is still unusual.

Sallie just shrugs. "Rutting Milliways."
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