merryeccentricities

A Little Fall Air

Thu, 22 Sep 2016 06:15:47 GMT

Autumn in Milliways is not quite the autumn Joly remembers in Paris, and even less the autumn he remembers from childhood in Auvignon-- but it is decidedly autumn all the same, cool and pleasant enough to inspire him to extend his usual daily walks.

And there's another figure from his Paris walking today , the silhouette unmistakeable--and the gait too. He lifts one hand, and calls out a greeting in a conversational tone. "Marius! Marius Pontmercy!"

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so how was your day?

Wed, 14 Sep 2016 22:20:37 GMT

The Infirmary shift following Doctor Dinosaur's arrival was remarkably quiet, all things considered; Joly spent most of it studying information on dinosaurs, for obvious reasons. After a not-so-long day spent being alternately delighted and irritated with scientists of later years, Joly opens the door of the Blue Room, as he still thinks of it, and is promptly greeted by two very loud cats who have never been fed or petted ever.

He ushers them back into the room, looking around for the other human inhabitant as he does. "Bossuet?"

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of others, of whom we must think

Mon, 15 Aug 2016 18:31:11 GMT

Joly hasn't been waiting for Marius to come back to Milliways with news of Paris. Joly has been, with dedication and great focus, Not Waiting At All, because of course who knows when it might happen, waiting would be foolish. He has put it entirely out of his mind, several times a day.

So when he sees Marius in the Library, he doesn't quite throw himself into the chair across the table. It's only a reasonably fast sitting-down. The chair barely rocks on its legs at all.

"Marius! You're back! Well, of course you're back, or I couldn't be greeting you, that's--how long has it been, on your side? Have you had time--did you manage to see Musichetta?"

It's okay if you didn't, Marius! Joly will probably only implode very slightly.

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Sun, 22 May 2016 12:52:38 GMT

Joly knocks on Feuilly's door at what seems like a reasonable hour for people to be up. He's carrying a small bag that looks almost embarrassingly professional, and another that only looks like it has dog treats, because it does.

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Tiny Slumber Party

Tue, 12 Apr 2016 01:17:40 GMT

Finally, finally they've found all their suddenly younger friends and managed to get them into the Blue Room to sleep at least one night-- with the result that most of the floor outside the kitchen is currently a sprawl of mattresses and children, made as ready for bed as Joly could convince each of them to allow.

(at request, slumber party post! Tag in wherever you like, talk to anyone else tagging in whenever you want, here or in the Morning subthread.)

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OOM: A Small Error II

Sat, 09 Apr 2016 08:32:56 GMT

Joly is having a lovely calm day in the Infirmary--running maintenance on a few machines, reading more about the intricacies of engineered retroviral medication from a time his great-grandchildren wouldn't have seen-- when a tall and rather lanky man runs into the room, holding...a goat? A small young goat. Yes. All right!

Joly can guess who he is, from the reports of friends, and Pierre Gringoire--he's even more sure of that when the man begins speaking French-- clearly recognizes him in the same way. "Maitre Joly? You're a friend to Maitre Combeferre, yes? There's been a slight incident." Despite the man's obvious hurry, there's a certain calm to his speech that, yes, does remind Joly a bit of Bossuet, as Prouvaire said.

It's helpful, considering the news. "Yes-- has something's happened to Combeferre? Is he badly hurt?" Joly's already on his feet, ready to gather whatever supplies might be needed.

"No-no, not hurt, at all. In fact some might say he's been given a gift.Only it is a bit surprising. I doubt you'll believe me, if I try to explain it, and I'd rather not leave him and Maitre Segundus alone for too long, given the situation. They're in my room, it's not far at all."

It's not far, indeed. And when the door opens, Joly sees why Gringoire was reluctant to spend time explaining the situation. Oh, Joly would have believed him--but there are any number of gadgets and small tools in evidence, and Combeferre, as he would expect, is already investigating them. Which would not be a problem, except that Combeferre--and what looks like Mister Segundus-- appear to be children, now.

Still, appearances are deceiving! Especially in Milliways! He steps in, a little cautious. "Combeferre? Is that really you?"

(Behind him, he hears Gringoire making polite but audibly urgent apologies for leaving on account of Djali's neccessary animal habits. It's almost certainly just as well; he wouldn't want a young goat in this room, at the moment.)

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Test Flight 1

Thu, 04 Feb 2016 22:24:26 GMT

Joly comes downstairs with a fairly large crate floating along beside him, apparently supported by a couple of large clamps on either end, and a small cart trundling along under it. He looks around for Sameth as he reaches the main room; they'd agreed to meet today, but coordination is always a little tricky in Milliways. He can grab a drink if he needs to wait!

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Wed, 13 Jan 2016 19:43:14 GMT

The oddness of the last day's work in the Infirmary, the strange family mystery that seems to be behind the fairly simple matter of the patient's condition, the arrival of another living soul from their own time, all of it, has Joly in a relatively quiet mood when he gets back to the Blue Room.

That lasts until he's charged at the door by two cats who loudly inform him that he has been gone forever, and what's more they have never been petted any at all, and it's a terrible offense. Already starting to laugh, Joly bends to pick up whichever loudly protesting cat will hold still for the indignity.

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Trim up the Tree

Fri, 25 Dec 2015 03:23:28 GMT

It's been a near thing, with two curious cats and one oblivious beetle trundling about (and one Bossuet's luck), but the Blue Room has managed to let itself be properly trimmed up for the holidays, and a simple lunch with a complicated variety of drinks is sitting out for the human inhabitants of the room and their closest friends.

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refining the experiment

Mon, 31 Aug 2015 15:33:08 GMT

Joly's test flight of his little prototype flying craft went fairly well-- he's pretty sure he's found out at least one major flaw, and he's made the acquaintance of some extremely interesting people. But the machine is up in his lab now, out of the way of curious cats and incurious beetles. He'll work on it after he's thought everything through a bit more, and done a little more research.

Which is what he's doing now, curled on the couch with a cat sleeping on his legs and a cup of coffee on the end table, watching the videos his robot-self recorded, really watching them, for the first since Cubefall ended.

He didn't show Athelstan all of them, only some of his solo flights. But now he's watching the ones he had with Legle; there's audio too, mostly wind, but some conversation gets through. He is totally watching this for science and not just smiling like a sap.

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After Many Things

Sat, 25 Jul 2015 21:58:03 GMT

The dream with the inventory and the surplus of penguins is familiar; that the penguins take off flying is (also familiar) not at all, and Joly blinks half-awake in some confusion. Which turns to panic because he's gone he's gone where is he, and that sets him gasping, awake completely.

As soon as he is entirely awake, the weird panic vanishes. No one is missing; Bossuet is right next to him, the cats are asleep on the furniture that they should least be sleeping on, and even the beetle is still on the ceiling where he'd flown last night before they could put him in his warren.

Joly rubs his eyes and curls up closer to Bossuet again, already starting to fall back asleep , half smiling. Maybe they'd both had a little too much last night (last week) after the fireworks, but that's all right, everything's all right, they're both here and Bossuet is missing Guignon she's gone too--

Joly frowns. He's used to fretting, but there is...nothing wrong? Maybe things are a little complicated now, but it's a complication he doesn't mind. Of course he is upset, they're all upset with the political situation being what it is,all that fighting at the barricade just to see another king--

He blinks and sits up. He hasn't thought about the barricade in weeks, really; not since the anniversary. And the barricades of 1830 haven't been on his mind in months and months, even though it just happened--

--three years ago.

Maybe he's having a stroke? Or drank something he really shouldn't have? That would be comforting, he knows how to worry about medical problems.

He's just sure he isn't having one.

"Um." he says, very quietly, to a room somehow missing everyone who should be in it.

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AU Week: Daemonverse

Fri, 17 Jul 2015 22:08:22 GMT

It's the summer of 1830, and everyone's alive! Alive, and dealing with a revolution that came within inches of getting them a full republic, only to be stolen by a Royalist coalition at the last moment. Everyone is, to put it minimally, a bit upset, but they're also regrouping and making plans to try again. And hey, maybe in this universe they'll actually win next time!

All of the Amis are returning Milliways patrons, with their own unpredictably-appearing doors, and they all know that they all come here sometimes. If your characters know them in their usual post-barricade situation, contact the individual muns to decide how you want to handle that; if a pup's meeting them for the first time, hi, have some French revolutionaries with weird soul-animals! The Amis will remember what happens with their AU-selves after the week is over.

Within the group, relationships are largely the same, just earlier. Regarding other patrons, they've had time to get used to the fact that non-daemon having universes exist, but anyone without a daemon will obviously be from Not Their Universe, or else a Witch/ supernaturally powered in some way.

As regards HDM canon, the Amis are from an earlier,different country than the ones in Pullman's novels. As such, there are bound to be differences between the characters and the canon regarding theories and world-knowledge. Since these Amis aren't canon-punctured, it's probably best not to bring that up.

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Bastille Night

Wed, 15 Jul 2015 00:46:46 GMT

Madame Bar was indeed generous in the matter of fireworks supplies. Joly fires their first small rockets off the balcony. They explode overhead with relatively little noise, for rockets; white and red and blue, bright bursts of color in the soft summer night. There are distant cheers in familiar voices from somewhere on the grounds; a moment later other bursts of color, red and purple and gold, explode from somewhere above those cheers, not as high but much louder. Joly laughs; he should have known they wouldn't be the only ones celebrating tonight.

"But they have the colors wrong--" he starts, about to start automatically talking about Proper Fireworks Manufacture, but then looks at Bossuet, and laughs instead. "-- or they don't care. Here, hand me the next row in that box?" There are only a few, but enough for at least a couple more volleys.

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When I Could Fly

Wed, 24 Jun 2015 02:58:12 GMT

Cubefall was--

Cubefall had been--

Well.

Joly had been a robot. A very pleased robot. And it hadn't occurred to him before he decided to be a robot that it would be...

well. If he had words for what he hadn't expected that would be something at least. But all he has are questions; and the questions he has, about sensation and spirit and change and desire, are not the sort of questions he's used to considering. He doesn't even know how to start.

But he has friends who are used to such questions, or something like them. And that's why he's pushing open the ever-unlocked door to the red-painted room.

"Bahorel? Prouvaire?"

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Language

Tue, 19 May 2015 22:26:24 GMT

"and then we can...going to?? ..the store to...buying bread." Joly winces apologetically. Conjugations are not his forte. English is proving to not be his forte. He looks over at Feuilly to see if that was even slightly coherent.

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kittens, probably

Thu, 14 May 2015 15:32:29 GMT

The theater set-up took longer than Joly had thought it might;though, of course, he's not drawing on a wealth of experience in the matter. He's happily tired by the time he stumbles back into the Blue Room, toolbox clonking against the doorframe. Meta makes an automatic attempt to bolt out while the door's open; Joly automatically blocks her way with one leg. Corralling a cat adds nothing to the stealth and grace of his entrance.

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sick days

Thu, 02 Apr 2015 20:02:24 GMT

Joly wakes himself up sneezing. He's momentarily confused to find he's still on the couch, and almost fully dressed-- why wouldn't he be in bed in his own room?

Oh, yes. Because Lesgle's in the bed, and doesn't think he's Lesgle. Well. If that doesn't resolve soon,they'll probably both need to go to the infirmary. Right now...Joly tries to think. It's more complicated than it should be. Right now...there should be tissues here. He'll need to send off for more.

...Or sneeze all over his hands, that's apparently the immediate plan. All right, right now he's going to wash up. And then send for tissues.

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Stone Knives and Cherubs

Sat, 28 Mar 2015 15:32:11 GMT

((Continued from here))
It's a short enough trip with the two of them to carry one man between them--or for Bahorel to carry one man, and for Joly to get brought up to speed. By the time Joly opens the door on the Blue Room, he's heard of an upsetting number of potentially infectious conversations, and is warned enough to be ready to meet ...well, someone who isn't Bossuet for a while, when he wakes up.

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Trundling

Fri, 20 Mar 2015 14:50:59 GMT

(carrying on from here)

Bahorel rolls his eyes hard at it's Shakespeare and mutters something about grandmothers and eggs while handing the coat-wrapped beetle to Joly. Joly ignores him and carries the beetle over to the bed, leaning against Bossuet while unwrapping the beetle like an unusually chitinous gift box.

"Were the cats very dramatic?-- Look!" Joly unties the beetle's shell. It flickers its wings out twice, briefly, rises as if to fly off--

--and then tumbles to the floor, where it begins placidly trundling about the apartment.

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For the Record

Wed, 11 Mar 2015 00:18:01 GMT

Joly is sprawled across the blue room's sofa and, as is generally the case lately, trying to understand one of the more essential points of post-1832 medical science-- this time,something about genetic mutations-- and taking notes on the current book to find other useful books later.

Which is why he notices, as he sometimes has before, someone's journal being cited. In a context which, he has become aware, means not at all the same thing as when he says the word. Something like personal notebooks, rather than shared public records. He frowns a little, makes a note to look it up-- as nosy as that seems-- and goes on reading.

And comes across the mention of another such journal, a few pages later.

He pauses, and bites his lip for a minute. And then, trying to sound very casual, calls out to Bossuet. "My handwriting is generally very hard to read, isn't it? Illegible, maybe?"

...Hopefully?

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Hello, There's Been An Error

Wed, 21 Jan 2015 05:35:46 GMT

Joly gets a few bursts of static, some mention of the Directory and Consulate, and "Fifth", and Courfeyrac, before the call goes definitely silent.

So...Bossuet and Courfeyrac are going to the Republic, of some point, and..Fifth? Or they're going to THE Fifth? Or, given how drunk they obviously are, they're going to GET a fifth, or had one, and then...

then "the Labyrinth", which might be taking them anywhere, never mind where they think they're going.

No, Joly isn't about to sit around waiting for them to get back. He sets the watch-hand for 2. "Combeferre? We had talked about exploring the Labyrinth? I think we might have to plan to do that right now."

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Joyeux Noel

Wed, 24 Dec 2014 08:30:55 GMT

Joly really didn't plan to spend his Christmas dead, although he would always have allowed it was a distinct possibility. But he did always plan to spend it with his closest friends, trading stories and presents and good wishes and getting variably drunk. And through the oddness of Milliways, there's no reason he can't carry out that plan.

So the Blue Cherub Room is temporarily also the Red and Gold Cherub Room (with ornaments), there's an enormous amount of food taking over every non-sitting flat surface in the lower room, and the other Amis will find notes slid under their door (in Bossuet's handwriting, and thus legible):

Join us for a Holiday Party in the Blue Room on Christmas Eve! Bring yourselves; nothing else is needed.

(ooc- slowtimed to as long as it takes!)

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Mon, 22 Dec 2014 01:30:33 GMT

Really, Bossuet is probably fine after 24 hours of observation; but Joly can't quite adjust to the idea that broken ribs and a concussion are something a person can just bounce back from in a day (with, yes, a little lingering soreness, but still), and wants to watch and see just how complete these new cures are. So another day or two of enforced lounging, well-- really it's for science and research, and not fretting at all.

(...It's a little bit of fretting. And a lot of lounging about with tea and nice food and kittens. But mostly research!)

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Hello Old Friends

Fri, 19 Dec 2014 19:26:44 GMT

It's not that Joly is worried over Bossuet being gone a while; although, given past history, maybe he should be. It's just been a while, and Joly's been in the infirmary trying again to figure out how some of the more advanced machinery actually works without taking it apart (and it does work, he's seen that, but how? The gearless mechanisms of times past his are so much more complicated.) and he needs a break, and Bossuet wasn't in their rooms or in the Bar and--

--And yes, true, Joly fusses, sometimes. He knows this. He tries not to, but he doesn't try very hard. Because he's not two steps out the door to the woods when he sees someone staggering in the general direction of the Bar with a familiarly confused and probably concussed expression.

"Oh no, Bossuet. What happened this time?" Maybe he should try to sound professional and removed, but that point passed long ago. He is calm though, and smiling, even while hurrying over to see where it might be safe to offer support. This is a familiar sort of disaster.

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I Hear You Knocking

Tue, 16 Dec 2014 06:09:07 GMT

Joly's almost got the finishing touches on the first prototype of his current project when he hears the knocking downstairs.

Not familiar knocking, this time. He picks up the kitten that's fallen asleep on his lap and tucks her over one shoulder. "Who's bothering our rooms at this hour, hmm? Who's coming by and banging on the door?"

...Whoever it is, they're really hammering it down. He heads downstairs as quickly as he can, in the name of residential structural integrity.

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