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Walk Among The Abyss

The Citadel - A Club For All (OPEN TO ALL)

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On 9/22/2020 at 7:22 PM, DreamSeeker said:

Hearing Daemon's order, despite the conservation and situation at the bar, Tibale almost whips his head around to look at Daemon. "I KNEW IT!" Tibale exclaims loudly. The tone isn't anything of malice. It's one of discovery. Like all he needs is a lightbulb to go off over his head before screaming, "Eureka!" in the same tone. 

Ever since the Tavern, Tibale really wonders about supernatural eating, drinking habits. The existence of blood wine confirms a theory. Monsters, Demons, and the like, need time to relax. This relaxation sometimes calls for a place they can do so. Spirits for the supernatural just makes sense.

The moment of clarity comes, gets stored away, and goes just as quickly as it arrived. "Daemon," Tibale says with a small nod. Just addressing a familiar face for a moment. Plus, it's rude to just cry out something then go back to prior actions. At least address the party in question.

"I'd like to see it," Tibale finds himself speaking before thinking. Could this be read wrong? Maybe. Some bar patrons just have the goal of taking someone home, or going to a home. That's not Tibale's intention. Shanna goes through the details of the Grand Library. That has his curiosity. The size of her home has his attention. If someone's home is that vast, there is a story to it. Maybe there is a fleet of personal books there. An armory. A hidden fortune in Shanna's name. This latter thought means Shanna is just a server by choice. Like she is doing it to stay busy, or be humble. Whatever the reason for it, Tibale really wants to see this tower. And sadly, he misses any negative way his statement may hold. To him, it's a thought that comes tumbling out of the lips before his brain kicks in.

His mind returns to the prior conversation, "With all of the stories, there is bound to be a grain of truth in them. That's the thing about stories, details grow, and change. Yet there is some form of foundation of truth. With stories like that, it's doing a lot of digging. I may not have enough time to dig like that," with situations like that, it's a massive undertaking. He really doesn't want to tackle such a mountain of a task. 

Daemon didn't expect to see a familiar face in this kind of area, but then it was a big but small world. "Tye? Wow! Didn't expect to see u here." He said in a cold smug way. The weather wasn't doing much good in lifting Daemon's spirits. And or seemed seeing a familiar face didn't do much either. 

 

On 9/22/2020 at 8:01 PM, Raptor said:

Shanna finds herself momentarily overwhelmed by the demands of those in the bar, but handles it with surprising grace. Baltrax is given his coffee and cinnamon bun, "Here you go!" She chirps as the payment is swept away into a register, before she resumes her mopping of the spilled alcohol. 

"Oh! Just minorly enchanted!" She chirps at Daemon. "Can I interest you in something to eat as well as your wine?" Her cheerful visage never changing, though the shape of her eyes shifts to become more rounded. Her constant state of flux is confusing for some, but she remains for hte most part, recognizable as the same person. 

While waiting for his answer, she turns her attention to Tibale and offers him a nod. "It's not hard to find. One day ride north of Umbra. It's the giant tower. Rafael gave it to me in exchange for my research!" It had been a very beneficial relationship with the God, her finding artifacts and relics of a time gone by, and he reaping the results of it. 

"There's seven floors to the tower, the main floor has the smithery and the homes for the workers," She pauses as though remembering. "Oh yeah, the stables. THen on the second floor is the kitchen!" Shanna teeters as she moves to wash the mop and returns with a broom to sweep up the broken glass. "The third floor is...the library? I think. Maybe that's the fourth floor. I know the garden is on top and it's one of my favorite places." Nestled just at the base of the cold mountains, Shanna's home was very easy to find, The Red Tower stood out amongst the giant weathered trees. 

"What about you? Do you have a place you call home?"

 

@Humble Blood @DreamSeeker @Walk Among The Abyss

 

"Oh! Just minorly enchanted." Said the ever cheerful bartender. 

"Well still, that is very impressive." Replied Daemon, holding is glass of the counter just a few inches, in a gesture of praise. 

A plate of food sounded nice, but Daemon didn't have enough money for that. Besides, he could probably just go hunting for deer out on the woods after his little appetizing bloodwine. "No thanks, I could just grab something later in the forest." The 18yr old looking vampire said. "But thank you" he added with a little smile on his face. 

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Shanna smiles at Daemon, offering a small nod to his comment about finding stuff in the forest later. 

"IF you're sure." She chirps, looking pleased when the mess is cleaned up. Now that, that mess is contained, she returns to pour herself a cup of coffee, finding the caffeine stimulating and joyful. Her attention turned ot the others in the bar, to ensure that they had what they needed. 

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On 9/26/2020 at 7:11 PM, Raptor said:

Shanna smiles at Daemon, offering a small nod to his comment about finding stuff in the forest later. 

"IF you're sure." She chirps, looking pleased when the mess is cleaned up. Now that, that mess is contained, she returns to pour herself a cup of coffee, finding the caffeine stimulating and joyful. Her attention turned ot the others in the bar, to ensure that they had what they needed. 

"Yes am sure." Daemon confirmed struggling a smile on his face. Finally finding one, his lips edge a little, indicating a smile. 

"Say where does this tarven come from. Or more like who owns it." Daemon's eyes glanced across the strange looking objects at the bar behind the tender. And then around to see the type of people here as well. 

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A peculiar creature made their entrance into the tavern next. One swift glance would give one the distinction he was no mere man, but a humanoid beast. A white feathered head stood atop a primarily feline frame. Lined with khaki brown fur on a robust physique, it was quite evident this was the warrior type. Beige portions were outlined on his torso, his pawed hands and feet as well as the underside of his composite tail, of which replaced the usual tuft of pelage with a series of white tail feathers and a dark brown covert at the base. Draped along his back not unlike a cape of sorts was a set of dark brown wings. In keeping with that motif was the similarly colored plumage covering half his legs like a pair of shorts. Lastly was the mane of russet fur wrapped around his neck like a scarf with black and golden yellow streaks. While the rest of his makeup was undoubtedly very well groomed, this mane appeared to be the focal point of his endeavors. With this amalgamation of feline and raptor attributes, there was no denying he hailed from the heraldic hybrids known as the Griffins. 

Tharraleos was this adventurer's designation. The roaring downpour had impeded his travels and he opted to seek shelter. His coat had become soaked and began to weigh him down far too much. After all, he had already been airborne for a rather extended amount of time. After standing at the doorway for a few moments attempting to dry himself off as best as he could, he decided to scope the place out. Rigid golden eyes surveyed the interior of this establishment as well as the other patrons. While the outside gave a twinge of nostalgia for the centuries old combatant with its old timey appearance, the inside was rather lavish and quite fitting for a specimen of his caliber. The pads of his feet pressed against the ground as he began to make his way forward. His footsteps were surprisingly lithe in spite of his sizable stature; his soft paws and digitigrade locomotion contributing to such. Fancying himself a drink, his first destination was bar. 

"A glass of your finest Mavroudi, please." Tharr requested upon situating himself at one of the barstools. The words emerging from him, while poised and polite, was borderline baritone and appeared to vibrate the air around his yellow beak. The way he carried himself from his posture to his mannerisms denoted a potent sense of pride. He was the type to die by his hubris then to experience humility. The semi sentient construct of sinful energy dwelling dormant within certainly attested that.

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@True Lycalo

Leaving the presence of the woman soaked in rain, Baltrex twisted and laid eyes upon something so magnificent he was, for a rare time, lost for words.

The creature stood almost identical to the ludicrously tall human, given his bowler hat added a few inches, but the feathery ears eked out to be taller. At once Baltrex strolled past all occupants, brushing aside a small boy servant with the end of his cane. Completely ignoring any others in his vicinity.  

“I cannot help to notice,” his voice bellowing like a locomotive gaining speed, “you appear to be a type of monstrosity with built in weapons given from birth.” Gray eyes scanned the beastly creature resulting in a singular word, “Glorious.”

Studying the individual, words muttered out from the man’s bushy mustache and beard that reached his chest, “Hmm,” and, “Interesting.” This being was uniquely adequate for combat. “What is your name my distinctive new acquaintance?” The temptation to open the beak up was, tempting, but he assumed it would be deemed rude. Ah! His talons. The sharpness spoke of deep lacerations. How deep could they puncture the skin? Smiling with such an idiotic presentation, Baltrex stood admiring what sat before his eyes.   

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@Walk Among The Abyss

After ordering his drink, Tharraleos let out a silent exhaustive sigh through the nares of his beak and rested his elbows on the table, his sizable body lurching forward somewhat. Now at a a state of rest he began to realize just how much he perhaps overworked himself. It had been nearly two days since he took off for the skies. Even he had limits, which reaching the ceiling of was a frequent hobby of his. But just as he began to get lost in his own thoughts while patiently awaiting his beverage, something relatively unexpected happened. While he was accustomed to being quite the head turner since he was, well, a creature of legend who nonchalantly paraded himself around, this man's particular acknowledgment was equally amusing and flattering.  He was often met with fear or curiosity, but such blatant admiration was seldom.

The Griff's usually unbreakable stoic gaze showed a few cracks in it as he sat upright and turned to face the bearded man. Had his maw not been attached to his face it might have dropped on the floor. Tharr wasn't the only one to react though as Baltex's words were pretty much a buffet for the sinful energy within. The gold of the warrior's eyes would momentarily flash a vibrant purple color numerous times reminiscent of a strobe light with how much and how frequent it was. This would likely create even more questions then he already had. Brining a bawled up paw to his rostrum, the beast cleared his throat in an attempt to regain his composure before returning it to the table

"I am designated as Tharraleos of the Metallaxi Griffins." he began, the feintest of smiles tugging at the corner of his beak; the name drop of his kin causing his eyes to light up once more. "Your assumptions are indeed correct. I harbor an abundance of inherent abilities that allow me to dismantle my foes in a variety of ways." he continued. For one with such a ferocious exterior, his inflections and articulation indicated he was a creature of vast intellect as well as physical prowess "To whom do I have the privilege of speaking with?" he inquired, studying the man just as much as he was him and seemingly locked in his silvery irises.

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Seeing Baltrax place currency on the counter only reminds Aveline how much building the Copper Bell Hotel Casino is costing them, even without the massive explosion during construction. Thurgood, her older brother, had poured all his personal money he had left into it, and a vast majority of the Mil Dot:s working capital. Of course Aveline balked at it, the Port Kyros location cost them a good chunk of change too. Thurgood promised to pay it back if the Copper Bell flopped with the income from his stake in the Damn Good Soda Company, which from the way he helped the company recover from Tyler Delp's expensive mistake, would be possible in a reasonable amount of time, especially with the popularity of Acid Bomb Energy. But that's not the point: her brother keeps acting without her input; he's at the wheel and she's just along for the ride.

It's all Aveline can think about as she eats her warm cinamon bun.

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@True Lycalo

“Where are my manners?!” How could he have been utterly rude to the creature? An introduction was the policy no matter the culture or species. “My name is Baltrex Numitor. Call me Baltrex oh feathery one.”

Baltrex grinned, his eyes lasering over the figure in front of him until he was satisfied that he could replicate the image into his sketch book. “Tharraleos, that name rolls off the tongue simply enough. If you consider my family has names such as Thorog and Asbjorn, pronouncing your name is a task that even the small ones should have no trouble with.”

 From the belly came a laugh, “Tell me. How many of your kind are in the world?” Producing a small, leathery notepad form his back pocket, Baltrex licked the tip of a pencil and began a quick sketch of the entity. Jotting down the words “Tharraleos” and “Griffin” to remind him of this encounter. The giant of a man glances at the female, who up until now was soaked from the outside. Good, he thought. She got some food.


@notmuch_23

A womanly steward approached the female, handing a few towels to her. "Here dear. Dry yourself off." With a gentle touch before walking off, the steward whispered, " Have as many of those cinnamon buns as you wish."  

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@Walk Among The Abyss

"No worries at all, my human ally." the beast assured, his tone softening ever so slightly. "It is a profound pleasure to meet you, Batrex." he continued. It would normally be at this point he would extend a paw as a social custom, but the man's hands seemed occupied, so he instead nodded affirmatively. Tharraleos comprehended every last syllable uttered by the giant humanoid with an almost unblinking gaze. The few times he did so one might notice his eyelids swept upwards instead of down; a common avian trait. To think a mere fleshling could be so engaging was quite the treat for Tharr. He was abundantly enjoying the company of this individual and found his fascination humorously flattering.  

"There are many in this world with attributes very similar to my own, but as for the particular race of Griffins I hail from, I have not seen another in centuries. There are certain things that differentiate the Metallaxi from normal Griffins. For example." he began to explain, his beak no longer being able to resist the tug of a grin. He knew what he would say next would only intrigue the man further. and it was an entertaining thought to say the least "What you currently see before you is merely a suppressed form. Under certain circumstances, these inhibitors can be relinquished and I have access to even greater strength. At that point, however, not only am a danger to myself but everyone around me as well since my animalistic ferocity overtakes me entirely." he went on with some subtle solemnness.  

It appeared he didn't speak about this side of him with the highest regard, but he wasn't ashamed of it either. The barbarous nature of his Rampant form simply wasn't his preferred way of doing things. But he had only been pushed to that breaking point a handful of times in his extensive life, so he didn't take much issue with it.  He found himself being uncharacteristically chatty with Baltrex and he could see himself going over the countless experiences throughout his lifetime in crystal clear detail the potent processing power of his brain allowed. This person was undoubtedly one to remember and perhaps he'd leave him with a parting gift at some point. 

Edited by True Lycalo

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angel.jpg

| that's where old devils danced and kissed |
 

Esdel stared at the images in the stained-glass windows, finding that they mocked him; depictions of angels and demons, living in harmony. Esdel belonged somewhere in the middle. He had found a spot in the Citadel closer to the wall, where there was a lesser density of people, and he was close enough to the window that he could hear the rain coming down. He was almost dry now – he’d been sat there for over and hour, and originally planned to order himself a drink and something warm to eat. However, as of late, Esdel was finding food and drink to be rather lackluster. The heathen did not take rejection well, and his latest fling decided (quite randomly, Esdel thought) that they no longer had an interest in pursuing their relationship. He had been sulking for a week. He got up from his chair – his ass was now numb – and his eyes darted over the people nearest to him. Navigating a busy establishment proved difficult when his wings took up a lot of extra space tucked behind him, and so he usually kept them under his coat the best that he could, despite how uncomfortable it could be. The angel approached the bar, tucking himself between a couple of people where an opening presented itself to him.

 

 

Edited by Ripley

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YA54g9q.pngWhilst having kept the rest of the bar under careful surveillance, Shanna somehow loses track of the time and the comings and goings of them all. Perhaps it is merely that the mage has fallen into herself, or perhaps it is merely that her poor little hamster brain could not keep up with the spinning wheel it ran on. 

In either case, it is several moments before she notices the winged man - her amber gaze darting to and fro as she takes in his appearance before a vapid, well meaning smile curls pink lips upwards. She appears somewhat harried as she rushes over, before finally sliding to a stop just in front of the gentleman? Should she refer to him as a gentleman? No, best not assume. Shanna opens her mouth and closes it a few times - like a gaping fish. 

"What can I get you?" She finally blurts, setting the rag that had been present in her hand underneath the bar as she prepares herself for whatever the person in front of her might order. "We have cinnamon rolls, they're my favorite, personally. They're all big and fluffy...Ooo and coffee, you can't beat that pairing!" She chirps.

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angel.jpg

| that's where old devils danced and kissed |
 
The angel appreciated the quick service – well, he was waiting for maybe five minutes, but that was nothing compared to how long he had to wait for a drink in other establishments. He was patient, despite being the mess that he was. His eyes landed on the young woman who, albeit a bit frantically, stopped in front of him. Esdel was anticipating that she had something to say to him, but something seemed to hold her up for a moment. His lips pulled into a small smile, honey eyes twinkling at the girl. He was both amused by her and he couldn’t help but mirror her own smile. “Cinnamon buns?” Esdel echoed and leaned his forearms against the cool counter. Now that he was warming up, he really ought to shed a couple of layers. The place was packed and the air was thick from the accumulated body heat. “Alright. I’ll try a cinnamon bun.” He sat up straight and slung his jacket over his arm. When he considered the warm, fluffy cinnamon bun, he quickly decided that he did feel like eating something so hearty and comforting. “But, darling,” he added, ever the charmer, “Please do get me something stronger than a coffee. I’ll drink anything. Surprise me.” Esdel rubbed at his tired eyes. Dark circles framed them, clashing with the paleness of his skin. “Is there anywhere I might be able to rest? Don’t suppose this establishment has accommodation.” Esdel inquired, his gaze falling to the girl again. There was this energy about her that was so splendid and appealing, yet the angel could sense undertones of something very powerful. However, his senses weren’t what they used to be, and he could not decipher others like he once could.

 

 

Edited by Ripley

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Something stronger than coffee? Shanna muses to herself for so long she nearly misses his next question. Her hand raises, curls into a fist, and falls into the open palm of her other 6a1tYxo.jpghand.

“I got it!” She chirps once more, her visage twisting into one of joy as she moves to grab the warm cinnamon roll kept nearby. She drizzles a fantastic icing over it and sets butter on the side before placing the plate in front of the angel. He might notice the cinnamon bun being nearly the size of his head. Flitting along the bar, she takes a gander at their available drinks before settling on a nice, aged whiskey. Though she wrinkles her nose as pouring it, finding the smell and taste of alcohol distasteful, Shanna presents it to Esdel.

“Here ya go!” She offers, her visage shifting once more. It is in a constant state of flux, though not drastically. There are small, minute changes – a slightly smaller nose here, almond shaped eyes there. It is varying but always similar.

“Rooms? Hmmm.” A hand raises to her chin in thought, tapping it briefly before it raises into the air, pointer finger towards the ceiling. “I don’t believe we do, though the wine cellar and various areas downstairs might be quiet enough for you to catch a short nap! AS far as I know, no one is down there.”  

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angel.jpg

| that's where old devils danced and kissed |
 
Esdel was in awe of what might be the largest pastry he had ever seen. It looked plush and he tore off a piece, which only confirmed what the girl said about it being fluffy. Esdel wasn’t sure how baking worked, but he could imagine that it was kneaded with love and care. Is that what bakers did? ‘Knead’ dough? Was that the right word for it? When he looked up from the cinnamon bun and was stuffing his mouth with the sweet, sticky bun, he nearly thought that there was a new woman in front of him. Her features were slightly different, and Esdel was momentarily perplexed. He was hesitant to carry on conversation with her before confirming if it was the same woman. After looking a little closer, Esdel relaxed. It was still her. “I’m sure I’ll find somewhere to lay down.” He picked up the glass of whiskey and had a sip. It wasn’t the best alongside the cinnamon bun, but the strong liquor warmed his core and all through his bones. “Whiskey. A good choice. Thank you.” He raised the glass towards her in thanks. “I am Esdel.” He wiped his fingers on his napkin and extended a hand towards the girl. “I am a traveler passing through.”

 

 

Edited by Ripley

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The cinnamon roll is quite fluffy and moist, warm and gooey in all the right ways. Shanna watches him take the first bite, before a pleased smile erupts across her face – it seems there is very little time where she is without the armor of a grin. His extension of his hand, however, causes her to pause before extending her own small hand in acceptance.

She gives his a firm shake, stronger than it looks like she might be able to give. Years of adventuring had given her a lean physique that was stronger than it appeared.

“I’m Shanna! Iiiii am helping out here. Where are you from, Esdel?” She asks, her amber gaze glittering with curiosity. It is always a joy to meet those from various walks of life, after all, for their experiences often differ from her own. “I’m from Genesaris.” She offers, before her head cants to the side as she grasps a glass of water and takes a sip.

“This place is really nice! I’m sure you’ll find something to keep you occupied if you don’t want to rest! There’s a bowling alley downstairs, the wine cellar, Uhmmm…I was sure there was something else too.” Her finger raises to tap her chin.

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