|Tryion and the others at this point had finished their drinks and put on their helmets Tryion saying "to true, but we are born with eternal life and we are now on our way to Valhalla. Good blessings on to you and may you meet the ones you've lost in this life or the next." Tryion walked to the door opening it, it seemed it would let them out Tryion took a deep breath and yelled, "CRUSH EM ALL TOO VALHALLA FIRST ONE THEIR SAVES ME A SEAT!!!!!!!!!!!!" "RHHHHHAAAAGGGGG" Tryion ran out of the bar gun blazing as the rest screamed their battle cries and followed guns blazing, as the door slowly shut the sounds from outside filled the room.|
A horrid sounding "AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" And every other sound of the apocalypse filled the room enough to wake the dead and everything else, as the doors shut the sounds disappeared. The doors opened once more this time a keeper a wolf six foot four in height blue eyes and short brown hair some scaring under his right eye. He wore blue jeans black runners and white shirt with a jean jacket. He walked to the bar and ordered a combination of drinks and some food, not noticing the girl or the doctor on the way in, he just sat at stool and began to eat and drink.
|"Birds flyin' high, you know I feel...Sun shinin' in the sky, you know how I feel...Breeze driftin' on by, you know how I feel...It's a new dawn, it's a new day...It's a new life for me, ooohh yeahh, it's a new dawn, it's a new day...It's a new dawn, it's a new day...It's a new life for me, and I'm feelin' good, mmmh yeah..."|
In her dozing daze, Pepper had begun to sing. Her voice's raspy purr seemed to put some indelible passion in the song, and the Doctor was in a rare state: he was rendered speechless. However, like a brief vision in the spring morning's mist, her singing trailed away into nothingness, and she returned to her quiet drowse...
The Doctor contemplated, pontificated, and decided that now was not time for him to begin blithering. He simply tapped onto the bar, and nodded in thanks to the rotted barkeeper for his speedy drink service.
|Dream-Weaver wakes up, feeling refreshed and picks up his turret|
DW: I still need to figure out a name for you, don't I?
Turret: I'm different
Dream-Weaver sighs and places the turret onto his back
DW: Well anyway we need to get going
As Dream-Weaver walks down the stairs into the bar proper, he stops and notices that everything is different, not the bar itself, it looks like it did before, but now everything feels... less green, and more brown/tan-ish
DW: What in the?
Dream-Weaver walks over to the window and looks down at oblivion, what was once a purple-ish haze is now a pitch black void
DW: Seriously, what the hell happened!?!
OOC: Yeah, when one sleeps for over a year a lot of changes can happen, like the center of all existence moving to a different location
P.S I've decided on a name for the turret (Finally), it will be revealed sometime in the future, though it'll probably still be referred to as "turret" when speaking, maybe, I'm not really sure
P.P.S I'm happy that this thread finally made the move to the new forum, I was thinking about moving it over myself, but since I didn't make the thread originally, I wouldn't have felt right doing so
|The fields of the old wars were blasted and hellish. Swords and axes and rifles were gouged into the muck and soil where their owners had fallen; their skeletons still going to dust, garbed in their foul tatters. Artillery and vehicles stood as monuments to violence and despair, and the sky was long gone dark with the smog of pollution.|
Gwyndolyn McRemitz, the "Banker of Hell," the "Merchant of Man's Evils," et ceteras, et ceteras, kicked the dust and decay idly with her eternally flawless leather shoes. She wore a white suit over a button-up shirt of swirled red and white lines, and gold sunglasses with ruby red lenses. She was garbed in about fifteen pounds of golden jewelry with various gemstones, not a single one falsified in any way. She appeared out of place, with her average, pleasing figure, and short, auburn red hair in its chic haircut. However, when she looked up and towards a barren ridge, she grinned a dagger-toothed grin. Lowering her sunglasses to leer upwards, the enemy on the hill could see her molten golden irises glimmering around her fiery slit pupils.
Suddenly, a bundle of lavender energy flew down the battlefield; pierced Gwyn's skull through and through; and exploded out of the back, scattering a few bones. Slumping, Gwyn stared at the ground. Her enemy - a woman bound in black leather with silvery-bronze armor fittings, her skin pale, her wavy, airy dust-colored hair bound in a loose bun or ponytail by a black rod tipped in bronze filigree, her face hidden behind a leather and bronze gasmask - dismissed her sorcerous rifle, and prepared to run away very quickly.
As she turned, the assassin gave a loud, wheezing sigh of exasperation. A single blow of the fully-healed Gwyn snapped the other woman's arm in numerous places. However, her arm repaired herself as she tripped the bullrushing merchant - it was good to go, just in time for her to snap Gwyn's neck from behind. She leaped as far away as she could, then bounded back again, as Gwyn rose with her neck twisted almost 180 degrees. Turning around, she used her hands to guide her neck's regeneration into place.
"I'm a demon, you're the pinnacle of those wretched ghouls' technology," Gwyn sighed. "If we try to kill each other, we'll just be at it all night. And yes, I'm aware that day will never come to this world again." She reached into her coat, and pulled out a blank sheet of coal-gray paper. It was two-thirds of a foot long and less than half that length wide, and seemed to reek of sulfur even from the distance that the ghoul stood. Gwyn said lowly, "I am one of the 1,307 Dukes of the Kazzahti. I offer this blank subscription list to take myself and my attempted killer here to get a drink." With that, the sheet almost instantly burnt out of existence.
Suddenly, a door rose out of the ground, shaking off fire and magma and black bony claws trying to hold it back. When this fell display was over with, the door swung open, and drew both of them through. There, in the Nexus Bar and Grille, Gwyn flounced in and demanded a drink as if she owned the place. The ghoul stood rigid, yet unn -
"Hey. Bones," Pepper grunted from her booth. "You look lost. Got a name, or do they not give 'em to folks where you come from?" At the ghoul's blank look, she seemed either to not comprehend the question, or to not speak Pepper's language. However, soon, a reply was rasped in her tortured, quiet voice.
"...I am...Just Violent Enough...Spawn of...Far Too Vicious...And...Almost Ideally Cruel..."
Pepper really detested races that named their children using literal descriptors.
Nonetheless, she welcomed the cold-skinned, petite ghoul a seat.
Gwyndolyn was being a noisy and obnoxious drinker.
This surprised absolutely no one.
|The girl walked up next to Dream Weaver, glancing out the window he was at in curiosity. "Is something wrong, mister? I have not been here long, but it sounds like you come here a lot. Has something changed?" She looked around the bar, searching for something worry-worthy. "Everything seems stable for the moment....Was something different before, the last time you came?" As an afterthought, she smiled again and leans closer to look at the turret on his back. "And who or what is this on your back? For a robot, he looks really cute."|
OOC: Dream-Weaver, great to have you back! :D I was hoping you'd join in sooner or later! Now we've got some of the old gang back, this'll just get better and better. :3
Also, the change in location is relative. Maybe it's in the same spot, but the area around it changed? But then again, it is the void.... and it did just reboot. X3
|An attendant of iron who died in a tremendous battle.|
A faithless coward who overcame his shame, to carry on his allies' legacy to future generations.
The man who was born when the latter chose to live the legend of his friend, the former.
The last of these was walking alone on a forested mountain path, on his pilgrimage to the ends of the Earth and back. He was tall and lean, gaunt with an ashen pallor; within his sunken eyes was visible a man who was very old, very wise, and so very, terribly sad. He wore robes and light armor, with a mirror on his breastplate. A billowing head cloth secured a circular, engraved iron token to his brow, and his facial hair was trimmed into a neat goatee on his chin. Carried in hand was a large bisento, and his six other implements are mounted upon his back.
In his grim serenity, Musashibou Benkei (the heroic impostor of the genuine man) gazed out over a gap in the trees. The wilds of Japan stretched out below him, unbroken by human progress. An ascetic monk was a frugal man who only needed what nature could give him; this was not the least eminent of the Buddhist teachings he had taken to heart. Some would honor this only when under watchful eyes; for a man truly dedicated to this, a way of seeking retribution for his sins, what mattered most was to adhere to his beliefs when not a soul could judge him. His one goal was to strive for faith and loyalty, for fleeing the final battle in shame.
This was when an oddity came into view. An iron gate was seated in the mountain's face, with the image of two torii - one inside of the other - carved on a sizable boulder alongside. Beyond, a tunnel extended far inward. Benkei knew that his people did not make gates of this kind - as a matter of fact, in no lands touched by his feet had he seen such a flawlessly crafted gate. He grasped it, and its metal was warm to the touch. Curiosity overwhelming him, Benkei swung the gate open and proceeded through - after politely closing it behind himself, of course.
He walked a short distance, and in an escalation of this bizarre situation, he found a shrine. It was simply a wooden offering box atop a natural stone pedestal, lit by burning tinder in an upturned soldier's helmet, with a scroll pinned by arrow to the wall behind: "Please, honor our heroes and forebearers with whatever offering you can afford." Benkei did not make a habit of carrying money - a monk should only have to accept gifts from the good of people's hearts - but he did recall a coin which he had not yet given as alms. He fished out his last dusty coin, and dropped it into the offering box.
Turning to inspect an oddly familiar little statue, when Benkei looked back to the shrine, it had become one of the wooden doors favored in some parts of the West. He'd only seen them during a pilgrimage long ago, and never in the island nation of his birth. Fascinated, he would never forgive himself if he did not see what lie on the other side of this mysterious door. He cautiously turned the warm knob, and stepped through.
"My goodness," Benkei breathed idly. All manner of individuals sat in a bar, of the restrained elegance he almost admired of certain Westerners. A few of them resembled the monsters he had once seen and heard of, but all seemed to be here to enjoy drink and camaraderie. Cautiously, feeling quite out of place, Benkei strolled up to the bar. His dusty feet left prints as he went, but his presence seemed massive and peaceful. Not eager to make a scene, he was thankful for the attentive barkeep to turn his empty sockets towards him. "Yes. Hmm...My beliefs do not permit alcohol. Would it trouble you terribly to prepare a cup of green tea?" The zombie nodded in affirmation, and went to tend to a steaming teapot that surely hadn't been there moments ago.
Benkei wandered over to an unoccupied table. He murmured quietly, "How unbecoming of me, to enter an establishment like this unawares..." He took a seat to rest his legs, hoping that this was not a presumptuous gesture in such a place.
~ ~ ~
OOC: This is based on the version of Musashibou Benkei portrayed in the cancelled, original version of Fate/apocrypha; i.e., the Lancer concept dumped in favor of Vlad III and Karna. He was a hero in Japanese legend, and the attendant of a beautiful godling. He was resourceful and brave, with many talents; little evidence exists of Hitachibou Kaison, other than playing the supporting role of "one who runs away instantly." However, the cowardly man that ran away was the only survivor, and thus, endured his shame to ensure that the story of his genuinely heroic comrades was spread across the land. For the purposes of Fate/Apocrypha, Kaison combined what he learned of Benkei's fighting style with his Buddhist training in his following journeys, and he attained a kind of immortality. The man from the tale Gikeiki and the Servant from Fate/Apocrypha meet somewhere in the middle, for this RP.
|"Is something wrong, mister? I have not been here long, but it sounds like you come here a lot. Has something changed?"|
Dream-Weaver looks at the girl
"Everything seems stable for the moment....Was something different before, the last time you came? And who or what is this on your back? For a robot, he looks really cute."
DW: No, things are pretty much the same as they were last time I was here. It's just that...
Dream-Weaver tries to find the correct wording
DW: It's just that it, "feels" different. This place is always changing physically, but it's always been in the same non-point in non-spacetime
Dream-Weaver looks back out into the void
DW: It's as if the entire omniverse moved to a different non-point in the void. But I suppose it's not that big a deal, I was just shocked because that's never happened before.
Dream-Weaver looks back to the turret
DW: And this is... Actually, I haven't decided on a name for it yet
Turret: I'm different
DW: Yeah, let's go with that, it's "different"
Different turns towards the girl
OOC: Yeah, I never said that the name I chose was a cleaver one, but I was tried of trying to think of a name
P.S Really, the omniverse never actually moved, it was the non-existant void around it that moved, while the omniverse remained at the same point in non-spacetime
Of course, relative to the rest of existance, the Bar & Grille is in the same spot/time, so really the entire omniverse would "feel" different
|She giggled, waving a little at the turret. "Hi Different, nice to meet you."|
"I think i know what you mean about this place.." She paused looking conflicted. "Well, no I do not- I do not understand the concepts of Space like my brothers do- But I listen to Sol talk about it a lot so....it sounds a little familiar?" She ended uneasily. "I can not understand much, Life and creatures are my niche, not...physics?" She paused, wondering if that's the right word. "I can feel this place's life, but its spacial situation confuses me. My brothers have tried explaining concepts of Space to me, and sometimes Time, but most of it does not make sense. Although, I guess it's reasonable to assume we wouldn't fully understand each others' obssesions..."
She hook her head, dislodging the thought. "Anyway, I think I've caught a friend's habit of rambling. What is your name, mister? Where do you come from, if I might ask?"
OOC: hell she's not supposed to ramble this much- she's been corrupted! D8
I like the name for Different. It....suits him. ^^ And /I/ understand the spacial concept- she doesn't tho. Also- Calico, your dude sounds cool! :D
|Jamie looked around and for what he saw was the wierdest thing he had ever seen in his life, a whole slew of people he had never seen before. His surprisement was clear on his face, he turned around thinking he was hallucinating so rubbed his eyes and ordered a drink that was illegal in the city hoping it would be sold here. "One hells frozen over crack jack please," Jamie was surprised when he got the drink, the place looked to clean to openly serve the second most popular tax-less drink, the only drink was only illegal because the taxman didn't get zilch from the profits and it was almost as big as scinters mark. |
Blinking, he figured something was up here and the people in the background only made him to think he was hallucinating or he drop through some time space barrier and the first option was the most likely of options. So he just starred at his drink and wondered what he was actually eating in the first place, as he sat their thought after thought and theory ran through his head.
|Suddenly, Jamie detected the intrigue of a rich lady. He'd never seen a broad like this in a speakeasy. He was so impacted that he was talkin' like a Prohibition gangster, yeah, see, yeah. Okay that is enough.|
Gwyn winked, grinning with her sharkish teeth. "Hey, babe," she smirked with the oozing charm of a record executive. "You've got good looks and an air of danger about you, and I need a few boy toys in the Circle of Avarice." She passed a slip of coal-gray paper over towards Jamie, causing it to sizzle and snap as it slid across the wooden bar. "Press a bloody thumbprint onto this subscription ticket, and I can give you anything you desire. But since I like you, I'll tell ya: don't ask me to bring a dead friend or lover back or anything. Even a demon duchess like yours truly can't bring life out of the outrealms. I -can- give you gold and women, though. Studs like you dig gold and women still, yeah?" She nodded her head towards the ticket, still trying to strike up a deal.
Suddenly, Benkei cleared his throat. A hush fell over the room, briefly. "Young man," he said in his thrumming, sage baritone, "I'd advise to not contract yourself to a devil-woman. Material wealth will only imprison you." Gwyndolyn lobbed a stray glass, followed by a bottle at Benkei. He proceeded to catch them and set them down on the table. He quietly returned to drinking his green tea.
Gwyn was so furious that she had turned beet red. No. No wait. Her skin was now dark crimson, and she was growing tusks with golden bands around them. Her hair was growing long and white, as her suit turned black, and she gained a tiger-striped shirt beneath them. "I AM HELL'S BANKER, THE MERCHANT OF ALL MAN'S EVILS!! I WILL NOT BE MOCKED!! LOOK AT MY SHOES!! THESE ARE NOT THE SHOES OF A WOMAN TO BE MOCKED!! I BANKROLLED THE SECOND CIRCLE OF HELL!! I HAVE POWER!! I AM AS POWERFUL AS ALL THE WORLDLY LEADERS AND MORTAL MERCHANTS!! I WILL BURY YOU, YOU, YOOOUUUUU - !!" As her third eye began to slowly open, she found her back being rubbed in slow, small circles. She screamed in animal fury at the Doctor. "@#%# YOU!!!" Disapproving stare from the Doctor. "It is a Fell word. It's a word my people use. ... You are a racist against demons, sir." She prepared to decimate the bar, when -
"You see, my dear," the Doctor interjected, "I believe that your rage and materialism stem from some event in your past, perhaps due to a figure of authority, which instilled a feeling of self-loathing and desire for material comforts. Tell me, did the demon who spawned you ever keep you from having one thing you wanted more than anything else?" In an instant, Gwyn was back to her normal form, shaking spastically. She rocked forward, and the Doctor tugged her over to a booth - shooshing her as she sobbed.
"Daddy...Daddyyyyy...I...All I wanted...Was the puppy-doll...You...You gave Gwynevyre that dress...And the necklace...Mom's ring...I...I just wanted...Wa...WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" The Doctor secured Gwyn in the booth, and popped up with that usual wide-eyed grin.
"Never you all mind, just a demon decompressing her repressed emotional trauma from aeons ago in her youth! We may encounter turbulence!" No one looked forward to finding out what the good Doctor meant by "turbulence"...
|When Jamie saw the demon try to make a deal with him, really a demon??? A demon! This was a first he reached into his pocket to take out his prayer beads that was blessed by everything holy in one sense or another to purge the foul creature maybe this was all a demon's plot if so it was about to end. |
But before he could one thing led to the next and then the demon was crying in a booth, this was getting weirder and weirder by the minuet. Jamie then looked to the first man who gave him advice saying "worry not nothing in this world has value to me only in the next I get what I seek and a demon's deal is not for me." Jamie then turned to the Doctor and said "thanks for the help, but sending the beast into oblivion would've worked as well." Jamie then took swig of his drink and man was that strong.
|Suddenly, the bar jerked violently to the left. "Barkeep," the Doctor boomed jovially, "I would like a closed booth! My patient and I need a private therapy session!" Just as a wooden box from floor to ceiling with double doors formed, the Doctor could be heard inquiring as to Gwyndolyn's first memory, before the bar was thankfully quieted.|
Aaand then, a cold, snowy wind blew in through the front door. Various bags and cases were thrown in, before a couple of twin dreamkeeper girls were slung in with them. The doors slammed shut, as the two coffee-brown otters stood alone. Both had black hair in straight cuts, with thick braids framing their faces, and dark, emotionless eyes. However, both seemed to have full-body markings - one sister, slouching a bit, had a purple line sweeping down from her left eye into designs which extended to her limbs; the other, standing so straight it had to be uncomfortable, had a pink line extending down. Not much could be seen, as the two wore fur and pelt coats with silver and soapstone decorations.
The purple-marked sister looked about with an aloof gaze. "Chaka," she droned, "we are in a drinking establishment and we are attractive minors. What is the protocol?"
"We get loaded, Eska. We do shots, shots, shots, et ceteras, and I think that we are expected to wear raggedy halter-tops with bedazzled phrases and bootyshorts."
"I do not care for that behavior. We shall drink Darjeeling and we will be the very epitome of class. Any alcohol to be consumed must be Ruskol tundra wine, as per our dearly departed father's customary menu."
"Let us set off into this unfamiliar world."
As they approached the bar in unified lockstep, Pepper glared at the twins' backs.
"I have saved their asses so many times. They just ignore me."
Just Violent Enough wheezed quietly as she read a book.
|Jamie felt the bar jerk to the left violently he got up grumbling after being tossed out of his seat he went to put an end to the demon, before he could take a step the Doctor started a therapy session really? REALLY! GIVING A DEMON THERAPY!! This was just getting to weird, when he saw the two new girls walk in he muttered something under his breath. Before ordering another hell's frozen over.|
|Suddenly, Eska and Chaka stood on either side of Jamie.|
"Peasant," Eska demanded, "we are looking to order Darjeeling tea. Offer us conversation while the barkeep waits to notice our splendor."
Chaka mused, "This bar could use some swanky atmospheric jazz. Foolish fools."
Meanwhile, Just Violent Enough gazed up to Pepper. She wheezed, "This text posits...Kff, kff...That poetic irony...Is the decorated refuge...Of an unimaginative author...Whhzz..."
Pepper rubbed Just Violent Enough's back, as she wheezed out a puff of pixellated purple fumes. "Baby girl, you're sick. I've been mixing this up." She scooted a mortar and pestle closer, filled with ground herbs and seeds. She added in a dash of some kind of oil, and it began to fume softly with a pleasant, spicy aroma that invaded the ghoul's mask.
For the first time in her life, Just Violent Enough took a deep, satisfying breath without erupting into an agonizing whooping cough.
For the third time in her life, she smiled behind her gasmask.
~ ~ ~
OOC: Eska and Chaka are semi-inspired by Eska and Desna from Avatar: The Legend of Korra, after seeing an episode in a groggy night of grotesque mischief, i.e., tonight/this morning. They are dreamkeepers with a Wonder Twin Power based on body markings, kind of like Indigo, but their Power is wicked sicknasty yo. That is all.
|DW: My name? My name is Dream-Weaver, like the song, but most people just call me Dream, or DW|
Dream-Weaver pauses to think
DW: As for where I'm from, that's a bit complicated. I wasn't actually born so much as I popped into existence. I suppose this place is where I'm from, since it's where I first came to be
Dream-Weaver looks around the bar, uncertain of how to feel about this
DW: As for not understanding physics, don't worry about it, I can tell you from first-hand experience that reality makes absolutely no sense
OOC: It's probably obvious, but the Dream-Weaver in this is not actually me, but does share many qualities [Citation Needed]. But since he's not actually me, he does not come from the same place
In fact, since he's the result of my own imagination, one could argue that he doesn't exist unless I imagine it, which I only do when typing in this thread, so even when he leaves, he's still trapped in the Nexus B&G
THIS THREAD IS HIS PRISON
DW: What cruel hell is this?!
You can check out any time you like, BUT YOU CAN NEVER LEAVE!
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