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#Post#: 105194--------------------------------------------------
Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
By: Demonreach Date: February 6, 2012, 8:49 pm
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As the woman he dubbed "Woodchuck" began to lose herself to her
thoughts, he left her to address the new patron. He smiled at
her and asked, "Welcome to The Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern.
What can I get for you?" Narrowing his eyes as he looked at her
face, he nodded to himself, as if in answer to some thought.
"Well, we can't do food so don't ask." His eyes gleamed with
amusement and held a certain warmth to them. Lifting the red cap
upon his head, he brushed back his blond hair, muttered a few
curses about it being stubborn and returned his gaze to the
woman. "I am Rafferty and shall be your server, since the other
bloke is off, or not here." He shrugged. "I don't particularly
care where he is as long as he doesn't make me work all day,
year round. Then I would have to demand more than gum for
payment." He sighed and rubbed his jawline in thought and
shrugged. His hands moving deftly as he mixed her drink and, as
he finished, he wiped the counter where he had rested his hands
upon and where the glass had rested at, muttering again about
stubbonr stains. After he was done, he slung the seemingly clean
cloth over his shoulder and rubbed his hands on the stained
apron that tied behind his back and at his neck; the blood and
drink from the tavern blending together upon the white material.
His eyes were drawn to the stage, his footfalls stopping half
way between his two main customers as he watched the man play
the guitar with avid curiosity, and even a small smile found its
way to his lips and, before he knew it, the song was over and
the man left the stage. He frowned and shrugged, wondering if he
should go after the musician but decided against it lest someone
got the idea to steal from the bar. His brow twitched. That he
wouldn't allow and, based on that thought, stayed to entertain
the two women as best he could. The redcap sighed and rubbed his
hands together, finding a glass and wiping the inside of it
clean, though it was virtually spotless. Satisfied with the
glass, he put it away and made his way to "Woodchuck", and
grinned at her. "Of course Woodchuck! I mean, you smell like the
forest and you will be stuck with it for awhile, until you
leave. But when you come back..." His eyes glittered with dark
promises and he gave her a wink and went back over to the other
woman that had entered previously. "Would you care for anything
else to drink? I might be inclined to leave the bottle, should
you ask. I could care less as long as you pay." Though his tone
was serious, there was undetones of amusement and said emotion
still held his glacier blue eyes as he stared at the woman with
a steady gaze; not necessarily challenging stare but one that
would imply a challenge should she meet his gaze longer than was
appropriate.
Rafferty had decided to not let anyone think they had the
advantage over him; call it a predator instinct but this was his
territory. He didn't mind sharing it with others that worked
there but the patrons would know their place. "Woodchuck" hadn't
needed to be stared down because she had already submitted as
soon as she had walked in. He didn't mind lowering his gaze at
his employer but that was just about the only person he would do
such a thing for. Not even his... His throat squeezed shut at
the emotions that bubbled forth, trying to escape his ironclad
self-discipline. Quickly, he offered a smile to those watching;
the amusement that gleamed in his eyes seeming to be stronger.
Letting out a breath, he relaxed, releasing his tension.
Damnit... Even now she haunts me... His grin faltered slightly,
noticeable to those with keen eyes, before replacing itself.
#Post#: 105481--------------------------------------------------
Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
By: Eri Date: February 6, 2012, 10:42 pm
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The way she moved was gentle, as gentle as the breeze winding
and hugging the many different shades of leaves blooming within
the area. Her stature was soft-spoken in a sense, quiet but
asserting itself. Somewhat like the first touches of a winter
breeze, barely there though the knowledge of its existence was
in place. The story of her very own existence as it seemed, in
place but not in place, a perpetual static existence. It was
with this seemingly endless existence holding no meaning in the
moment that had brought her down the worn path out of simple
curiosity and wanderings, down the comfort of scuffled dirt and
moaning trees until she saw a building peek out from the depths
in a near taunting way. She approached this place warily, yet
curiously, much like a newborn as she surveyed the sign and
muttered the name soundlessly upon her lips. 'The Dancing Dog's
Inn'? Curious name for a curious place, had it always been here?
Seemed she would figure that out in due time. Still curious,
and surprisingly tired from the realization of her trek through
this greenery, the pale digits wrapped around the handles and
pushed inwards, meeting the large room with her faint existence,
a sound of faint surprise gently touching her lips. Seemed this
place was much bigger than she had expected...emptier too...
#Post#: 105549--------------------------------------------------
Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
By: Demonreach Date: February 6, 2012, 11:15 pm
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Startling blue eyes gazed around the outside of the two-story
building; the intensity of the gaze seeming to quiet the forest
in the background lest they disturb the bearer of the arctic
blue eyes that would chill most should they look into the
depthless, icy caverns that only grew colder; but there was a
hint of warmth in them that flickered beneath the ice that
enshrouded those orbs. As one got past those pools of a frozen
wasteland, they revealed a face that was perfect; the perfect
visage seemed to be enhanced by the roughness from life
outdoors; dark, sun-weathered skin was stretched taut over the
rough, perfectness. As the eyes of those looking upon the man,
which could be revealed by the broadness of the shoulders,
which, despite being covered by a dark-colored jacket, revealed
a lean muscularity from years of working, though it was mainly
from years of being on the run. Icy storm clouds seemed to
thunder across those penetrating eyes that seemed to see into
the soul of those they rested upon at the thought of running, or
being on the run. His fingers clenched, briefly, into fists from
which lightning so black that it seemed to absorb the light
around it arced with a dangerous gracefulness. As the eyes of
those witnessing moved down his body, they would see a black
pearl necklace at the mans throat and a dark-grey shirt beneath
the dark-colored jacket.
The eyes of those beholding would see the narrow waist that held
dark trousers that seemed to be darker than both shirt and
jacket combined; the storm clouds that raged in the raptor-like
gaze subsided, as did the black lightning, and those that looked
into their penetrating depths would see a sort of power hidden
there. Despite the brawn of the man, there was a scholarly air
about him; an air of wisdom and knowledge. But this sharp wit
was usually lost on those he spoke unto and the masculine man
didn't seem inclined to partake in conversation with those that
weren't ready for the power his tongue beheld, but that would be
misconception for he enjoyed talking to all things. Despite the
coldness of his stare, and the obvious hardness of his body, his
heart was not made of stone. As the eyes of the one, or ones,
watching wandered down, they would see that he wore black boots
that were laced up to the midpoint of his shin, though his dark
jeans covered up the height. As he strode to the door, he
glanced at the sign and chuckled; the sound was musical despite
the deepness from which it echoed forth. It was a sound filled
with confidence and of calm authority, as the air around him
bespoke. A man that didn't seem to be used to being contradicted
and others just jumped to do as he asked. Nay, that wasn't the
truth but it was as close to it as one would get until they knew
him further.
This was Tristan Rahl, a War Wizard, who made his way into the
inn and tavern with a stride of confidence in himself and his
surroundings. This was a man that spent half his life on the run
from his own family lest he die at the hands of one jealous of
his power, his Gift. This was a man that had many hardships in
his life but none seemed to have hardened his heart to stone but
made him stronger in other ways. As he walked in, he allowed
himself to breathe in the air; his nostrils flaring at the
familiar scent. And with that flaring of nostrils, at the smell
of the scent that beckoned him hither, a small smile cracked the
stone-like visage; offering an even more, if it was possible,
perfect visage. Even the cold caverns of ice that were his eyes
seemed to melt and the warmth that had flickered now flared to
life and gave him a more welcoming quality that he looked but
moments before. As he stood there, he gazed only ahead, with
that small, confident smile, and took in his surroundings with a
faint laugh that made those within strain to hear. Now, the Rahl
thought, it feels good to be within walls and have a warm fire
and an even hotter meal. But, somehow, he knew he wouldn't get a
hot meal but didn't dwell on the thought as he made his way
through the building, surprised at how empty it was. All those
that looked upon him, would see a warm, welcoming smile that
seemed to dare anyone to not speak to him.
#Post#: 105603--------------------------------------------------
Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
By: Eri Date: February 6, 2012, 11:51 pm
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Her attire was odd, strange, out of place within the homey
warmth that the inn seemed to provide. Even though she stayed
to herself, quiet and seemingly shy, she wore clothes that spoke
of confrontration and approach, just as her very being sent out.
A being made of contradictions. The woman was an unnatural
beauty, unfamiliar and strange yet just as equally alluring,
putting off and putting on, just an odd sort all together. The
first thing anyone would notice about this woman was her hair.
Seemingly touched by the moon itself, the silken, wintry strands
dipped low and far towards the backs of her knees in their
whitened luminescence; every movement, every shift bringing
about a ripple into her hair, like the stars themselves wirthed
against the whitened locks. The whitened hue added to the
startling depths of sapphire orbs as bright as gems, yet
somewhere far and deep away, long left and gone beyond anyone's
reach. Anyone whom had ever conversed with her would have
noticed that, the way she would look onto the person and respond
with her happiness, yet she was always somewhere else, aways
far, far away...always haunted. But even through this, she
was a startlingyly warm person, the visage of her face proving
such. Like that of an angel's brought to earth, holding
melancholy happinesss with an untouched level of innocence,
inviting and curious without seeming to hold any harsh emotion
of hatred, anger, fear. Any emotionw like such would just
seem...out of place.
Her outfit was what made her character faintly odd. From her
neck lay a single blackened strap of lace bound tightly around
her throat, intricately sewn patterns highlighting the pale
flesh of her skin with every turn her head made, accentuating
the soft flesh and milky hue. When one would look further
downwards they would notice the flattering top consistent of a
blackened corset bound comfortingly upon her body, not tight
enough to constrict breath but enough to unconsciously apply the
features she had been blessed with as well. With this laced top
held a matched skirt that pressed against her mid-thighs in a
bundle of laced frills, childish in aspect but once again a
flattering concept upon her womanly figure of which she
sometimes forgot she had. To match her attire was a simple pair
of wrist-length black gloves tapering over the tips of her
slender digits and a singular stocking frilled against her thigh
meeting towards the blackened boots scuffed from her travels
that climbed towards her calves before tying off, leaving her in
a outfit made of both seduction and childish charm, though, in
her opinion, it was simply comfortable. Cute and room to
breathe as she had seen it long ago.
As she walked into the warmth of the inn that held that old
thought of reminescense and relation, Eri found herself
habitually pressing into one of the abandoned tables lying far
within the backs of the bar. She seated herself cordially,
politely folding her hands into her lap and pressing her back
into the chair before she seemed to immediately drift off into
nothingness, taken away by thoughts and old haunts that pressed
continuously into the crevices of her mind. They had always
said to let the past lie, to forget about it and pay attention
to the present and future, but those people had obviously never
faced what she had faced, and because of that she could never
forget...Further and further she drifted into herself, her
posture lacking as she hunched forward softly, hands appearing
to rest themselves in a crossed fashion over the table tops,
pressing the bundle of her head into the cradle she had formed
for herself, completely forgetting where she even was as she
became a slave to her memories once again in this place meant
for warmth and friendship. Perhaps in an earlier time she would
have belittled herself for doing such a thing, but that was in
the past...
#Post#: 107637--------------------------------------------------
Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
By: Persephone Date: February 8, 2012, 5:51 pm
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Annika pondered her new nickname for a moment, her eyes glazing
over slightly as she thought about it. Why would he call her
that? She supposed he had his reasons and shrugged her shoulders
a little, bringing her mind back to the conscious world and
realising Rafferty was no longer stood in front of her. Looking
around, she saw him stood a little further down the bar talking
to someone and decided to occupy herself while he was gone.
Turning her gaze to the rest of the Inn, she looked around at
some of the other tables and saw a couple of empty glasses on a
far table. Deciding she would at least begin to be helpful now
if she were going to be working here, she slipped off her stool
and went over to collect the glasses. Bringing them back to the
bar, she placed them down and hopped back up on the stool,
lifing one of the glasses to examine it. She moved it close to
her nose, breathing in the scent and tilted her head a little,
placing the glass down again. Resting her elbow on the bar and
her chin on the palm of her hand, she absent mindedly swung her
legs back and forth, wondering if she would ever be able to
settle down like Rafferty had spoken about.
When the man returned, she looked up at him and listened while
he explained her nickname, wondering if he was right, that she
did smell of the forest. Well, she did spend a lot of time
running through forests. It was the best place to diguise her
tracks around here, she might be mistook for a wild animal...
Shaking her head of such thoughts, she decided she would no
longer think of who was chasing her, at least have a bit of fun.
Annika watched as Rafferty walked back to the other woman,
glancing at her briefly before looking away again. She didn't
really stand out enough to Annika for her to try to start a
conversaton, she disliked most strangers anyway. Especially
female strangers. Men, she was okay with, she was comfortable
around men after spending most of her life surrounded by males,
but women... There had been few women around her throughout her
life and all had been bitches; Horrible, snarling females who
tried to gain dominance over her. Annika was never bothered by
such behavious, she found it childish, but it meant it was
difficult for her to get along with women at all. Despite the
circumstances of meeting.
Annika tapped her fingers along the side of the glass in front
of her, staring down at it while she listened to the man playing
his guitar. She never really cared much for music, there wasn't
a lot of it that she liked. Instead, she simply hummed softly to
herself, half closing her eyes as she stared down at her
reflection in the glass. For a moment, she stared into her own
eyes, and for a brief second, it seemed to her as if memories
were being played like videos in her eyes. Slowly, a frown
curled her expression and after a minute or two, she shoved the
glass away, being careful not to push it too hard in case it
fell and broke. Drumming her fingers on the bar in time with
what she was humming, Annika began to wonder if she would ever
be able to forget what had happened, or at least accept it and
move on. Without that, she wouldn't be able to settle anywhere.
No matter what she did.
#Post#: 121841--------------------------------------------------
Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
By: X Date: February 18, 2012, 5:37 pm
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Her feet ached. How long had she been walking? X, shrugged such
weak thoughts from her head with a grimace upon her brow. The
trodden soil of the path she followed clung desperately to her
boots. She continued trudging forward, her mind on things far
away from the muddy path she traveled. Her mind wandered to the
screams of her past. She stopped walking for a moment to take
silence and think. Would someone get on her about standing in
the middle of the path? If they did, would she stab them and
drab them into the bushes? Acting as if such an act was normal?
It was for her, wasn't it? She thought back to the day she was
approached by the one who called herself a Vampire. She started
out nice. What's your name? Why would X waste her time with
foolish worthless chit chat when she had marks to find? Why
won't you talk to me? She told the creature that she better be
happy X did not engage conversation with her. It was too risky.
People can find out anything about you from a well directed
conversation. She said she only spoke with people she was about
to kill. That is why you are alone. Because you don't let anyone
in. It was the only way you could survive. If nobody knew your
weaknesses, the could not harm you. But, annoyingly, the
creature was right. X was alone. Relatively. She did have the
ghosts from her past to haunt her. She opened her eyes,
continuing towards the Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern. She had
once stalked a man just outside this place. The people inside
making merriment could not hear his screams over there own
conversations. Afterwards, she had come inside to wash her
hands, and have a beer. She nodded at the thought, as if
accepting it. She would have a beer. She was considering
retirement. She had been running this job since she was just 9
years of age. Her father had taught her the art of the Family.
Her Father. He had made a mistake and let people in. That is why
she had the burden of thinking of him in past tense.... She
placed her gloved hand on the doorknob, the sound of laughter
already making her teeth clench. She sucked in an impatient
breath and opened the door quickly, the light from inside
causing her eyes to ache. People looked at her as she entered,
and quickly looked away. That is how she wanted it. Easily
forgotten, or too intimidating to approach. She made her way to
the bar, boots thumping against the wooden floor, of course that
detail was lost to everyone in the room. She remember when A
victim had mistaken the thumping for his own heart beat. Right
before she found him and killed him. She held him like a baby
and slit his throat slowly as he tried to beg her not to leave
his body for his children to find. She smiled at him, shaking
her head as his blood sprayed on her pale skin. She left his
body where it died. Maybe his children would have learned not to
be like him. She found an empty bench and sat upon it. She
decided against ordering anything for now.
#Post#: 121919--------------------------------------------------
Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
By: Dems Darkfire Date: February 18, 2012, 6:22 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Seporo rested there, hidden among the wooden pylons that made up
the ceiling rafters. The count of Monte Cristo rested in his
hands as he read through the pages like a human. He could easily
flash through the book like it was nothing, but there was
something human in reading it, something he found more appealing
than just getting the entire story in three seconds. Each word
was formulated to be read, enjoyed, and analyzed for meaning,
not just in the book, but for the reader themselves. Each
sentence was deliberately formed to please the eye and keep him
interested in following the story to its rightful conclusion.
Seporo often indulged in the texts of books while watching his
father's bar, not really interested in mingling with those who
found themselves patrons of this joint. He had to admit that
acting 'professional' in this setting drove him insane. He
couldn't act like he wanted to here and it was annoying.
He heard the door first, sighing to himself as he read the page
to its conclusion and then looked up from the white pages of his
story. "Hmm.." She didn't look too interesting to him, king of
serious, but not as intimidating as the room made her out to be.
The moment she stepped in the door, the nervousness of the
patrons spiked like a rocket. Something about this struck him as
odd. Maybe he was crazy, but she didn't give off that feeling to
him. Intrigued, Seporo set the book against the wooden bulk,
swung his legs to the side and sat on the edge of the 12" beam
as he watched her from his balcony seat, a new actor appearing
before him to take part in the stage that was Dancing Dog's.
#Post#: 122131--------------------------------------------------
Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
By: X Date: February 18, 2012, 9:09 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
She rested her chin on her hand, no attempt being made to hide
her boredom. Was this how life was going to be after she
retired? What was the point? She would have no goals... No
marks... Nothing to plan for. It's not like she could strategize
how she would walk into a bar. Or did people do that? She lifted
her head and looked around at the people enjoying their night in
the Tavern. A woman laughed and threw a strand of hair behind
her shoulder. Her hand fell gently in her lap. It was the
perfect time for her to pull a knife from the far-from-modest
slit in her gown. But this woman had probably never held a knife
in her life, at least one that was meant for killing. A man, who
had been holding conversation with the bartender since the
moment X walked in, walked over to the woman, in long lazy
strides, placing a drink in front of her. She smiled and said
something, while nodding to him. She picked up the glass of
dark amber liquid and drank from it, without hesitating. It
could have been poisoned, but this woman had not a care of such
things. Why? What an ignorant life. She could kill any of the
people outright, and not even have to worry about fleeing. The
people would scream and run. And X would be left standing upon
the sticky blood-covered tavern floor. Would she be laughing?
No. X was not one to laugh. Or enjoy the kill. But sometimes she
did feel an odd sensation.. A brief wave of pleasure, or power,
when all the blood needed to support a life was at her shadow. A
voice tugged her from her thoughts.
"Excuse me, would you like a drink?"
X bore her eyes into the bar keep. She said nothing. she had no
desire to speak to him. If she had wanted a drink, she would
have already asked. He nervously wiped his hands on his pants
and walked away, saying something about her telling him when she
decides what she wants. She shook her head and continued to spy
on the people around her. She got the odd feeling that she was
being watched, and brushed it aside.
#Post#: 122160--------------------------------------------------
Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
By: Dems Darkfire Date: February 18, 2012, 9:35 pm
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Seporo left the book behind on his normal spot and pushed off
the beam, only to come flipping around to the other side,
absentmindedly walking along the bottom side of the rafters as
he followed the woman towards the bar, dancing with each step
around the hanging bars of the lights that would obscure the
vision of anyone who looked up. He moved, walking through and
hopping from beam to beam as they walked, near perfect mirror
images, to the bar. He continued to watch, sighing gently as he
thought to himself about what a person like this was doing here.
She seemed so out of place and, dare he say it, bored with what
could be considered the drab of the bar.
Seporo laughed inwardly to himself, moving over the bar as he
kicked off the rafter and half flipped through the air, coming
down with perfect silence in front of her on the bar. he
crouched down, letting his hands grip the wood on the edge as he
tilted his head and smiled, those flashy teeth instantly
gleaming in the pale light as he chuckled. The sudden gasps of
the patrons around him and the bartenders eye roll and sigh just
increased his smile. He moved, kicking his legs out in front of
him as he sat down, leaned back over the bar and pulled forth
something abnormal to have behind such four walls, a caprisun.
He popped the straw into the beverage and took a sit before
smiling.
"So... How are you?" He leaned back against the bar on one hand,
kicking his legs over the side of the bar as he tilted his head
the other way. The bartender stared at him. "SEP! Get the fuck
off the bar... yer pops would have a shi..." Seporo cast a side
glance at the man, still sitting his juice box and simply said.
"Go dust some glasses you bag of bones. I'm running it tonight,
not him.."
#Post#: 123517--------------------------------------------------
Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
By: X Date: February 19, 2012, 10:47 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
X heard movement overhead. It sounded like movement upon wood.
Perhaps wooden beams? Rafters? She had not glanced up upon
entering. Damn. She was already letting her observation slack.
She pressed her arm against her side, slightly warm metal
reassuring her. She had more metal on her than a suit of armor.
She stared straight ahead at the bottles of various colored
liquid. Her gaze never faltered as the Man landed in front of
her, her expression blank. She would wait to see what he did
first. This could mean her death, but did she honestly want a
life of retirement? Death kisses everyone at some point. Kiss.
She knew it was not as soft as that. She liked to imagine her
own a bit m ore violent than a kiss. More like a butchering or
hunt. She slowly brought her eyes up to the man as she heard him
inhale to speak.
So...How are you?
"Do I know you?" She asked dryly, her eyes unblinking. Why would
a random man ask her of her well being? She only spoke to those
she was about to kill, but did others work that way? Did people
really talk to others they did not know? She arched her brow
slightly as he yelled at the bar keep. At least he did not let
people tell him what to do. But in no means was X convinced this
man was not just as pathetic as the other meat bags in the
tavern.
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