The World's End Tavern

A small lake, surrounded by forest, has an antiquated building on the shore. This small wooden cabin has two floors, the upper level being devoted to bedrooms, with roof access, while the lower level has couches around the edge of the room, tables in the center area, with a bar in one corner. Small oil lamps hang from the ceiling, filling the room with a pleasant, warm light. The entire building reeks of magic, due to the variety of enchantments on it. The building repairs itself (Handy after the knock-down drag-out fights that occur when superbeings get drunk), the bar is always stocked, and there's food of whatever variety you please.

This is Trygon's domain, moreso then the rest of Blue Moon. He built this little corner to resemble the lands he spent his youth terrorizing, known as Gaia. All are welcome here, and the only law is the dragon's will.

The female entered the tavern, if almost tentatively. Sidonie had told her she was safe from all beings in the realm of BlueMoon, with the exception of one. The Dragon-God, of whoms Tavern she was now entering. She did it with much hesitation, as if she was generally worried about what may happen. She walked forward slowly, her boots making an even cadence on the floor. She stepped around a few people, and found her way to the bar.

Folding her wings over her like a feathered cloak, provided some warmth. She felt like just wandering around in what she had been created in, most often. Other clothing seemed too constricting, and less clothing felt too revealing. So she felt alright with what she was wearing. Her blade was in it's sheath, and her scythe was shrunk down to about a foot long and clipped to her right hip. She seemed pretty normal, for what BlueMoon had around it.

Blond hair, teal eyes. She seemed like your average female, seemed like it would be the best word. She fidgeted with the pendant on a chain around her neck. She hadn't done her worship to Sidonie yet! "Ah! Tender, can I please have a glass of your best Wine? Only the finest please..." She called out as she approached what is supposed to be the bar section of the place.

A map takes up most of a table off to the side near a corner of the first floor. The young boy, by mortal to godlike standards leaned over it. In one hand resting on the table was a Black orb, a very thin orange line spliced it in half and circled a small purple button on the front. And his other traced several routes along the map. The boys garb was simple, a jumpsuit in a dark charcoal gray with orange here and there at it's edges.

He doesn't so much as look up to the sound of the winged woman entering this strange place as much as his tracing hand slams into the table hard. His face contorts into something of anger and frustration before taking its calm, laid back mask back and he growls under his breath. He looks up and glances around to the various beings and human-like monsters in his eyes and shakes his head.

"Where the fuck did I end up?" He mutters softly.

Naomi sat in a far corner of the common room, her feet on the table and her chair tipped back on the rear two legs. She sighed as she surveyed the room without seeing any suitable victims then continued to perform her minor blade acrobatics that involved simply opening and closing her butterfly knife in a fancy manner. It was a little depressing how little potential she saw in this place's patrons, but there was little she could do about it at the moment. She hated traveling and she had no where else to go at the moment. Fortunately her lust for blood wasn't so uncontrollable that she would kill absolutely anyone in sight, but she needed something soon or she would have to give up her nice room and find another place to stay.

A faint black shadow moved silently down the ceiling of the staircase. As it approached the bottom, the increasing light glimmered off scales, and revealed two reptilian eyes, bright yellow and within shouting distance of insane. The dragon suddenly dropped, landing at the foot of the stairs with a loud thud and a crunch of protest from the hardwood floor. Trygon gathered himself to his full height, and nodded respectfully at the girl twirling her blade across the room. He trotted to the bar, and leaped onto the corner, perching like a gargoyle. His tail slipped behind the bar, and came up wrapped around the neck of a bottle of Maker's Mark. Trygon grabbed the bottle, and cut the wax around the neck with a talon, before uncapping it and taking a long drink. He exhaled, blinked, and quietly burped a low blue fire. His gaze returned to the girl, and he grinned softly.

"Welcome to World's End, miss. May I help you?"

"Ah yes, I was just passing through here... Really I was... I haven't done my act of pleasure of the day, to worship Sidonie. May I please have a glass of your finest wine, if at all possible?" She said as she reached into the pouch on her right hip, withdrawing a newly minted coin and waving it back and forth a little. "I won't bother you any further then that." She said in a cheerful tone. Her eyes closing and her head tilting to the side as she ruffled her wings up just a little. The Dragon was an interesting sort, so this was the almighty Trygon? He seemed imposing enough, and she wasn't exactly sure how Sidonie was such great friends with him.

But who was Angelischiel to judge? 'Angel' didn't even really exist. Though she had a soul, and a living breathing body. She hadn't been born. No she had been created from a statue. She shifted back on her feet, almost uncomfortably as she looked at the Dragon. Perhaps she should be a tad more careful around him, considering he was the only one that Sidonie would not protect her against.

The dragon nodded cordially, and jumped off the bar. He began sorting through the wine cooler in back, before he found a bottle that suited him. Trygon set it on the bartop, followed by a wineglass from the rack overhead, then stabbed a talon into the cork and pulled it free with a muted 'pop'.

"'Ere y'go. Enjoy."

He grinned toothily, and leaned against the shelves behind the bar, flicking the cork into some far corner, heedless of where it landed.

Angel took the glass and perched on the stool. Watching the dragon as she sipped the drink lightly. "You don't seem that bad honestly..." She mused aloud. Her elbow braced on her knee, and her chin resting in her palm. "But then of course, looks are always very deceiving, are they not?" She said in a gentle voice. She sipped the wine, feeling a sense of immense pleasure wash over her. It was how it always was with her, such finery always brought an almost orgasmic pleasure to her. Fine food and drink, one of her few ways of actually having such bliss.

"Not always. Looks are often the best indicator you have of such things."

He laughs harshly, and takes another drink from the whiskey bottle. His eyes flick up and down her form, before he snorts softly and dismisses her as a non-threat. The dragon was hungry... He hadn't fed in a very long time, not since before he landed on Blue Moon, and the urge to kill was screaming about his mind. This one was special to Sid, for reasons only she knew, but the momentary pleasure of feeding wasn't worth the shitstorm butchering her would incur.

"Not always though. For instance in my travels I came across an ogre. Ugliest thing you'd ever seen. At least by our standards. He was a very intelligent being, and was a talented poet. But people expected him to be a mindless beast that beat others up for the hell of it." She commented as she swirled the wine a little and took in the aroma. Sighing in bliss she slumped just a little and smiled faintly as she sipped the drink. "For instance me, to most that do not know me... I look like something easily overcome... and fucked. But to those that actually know... I'm something they don't even begin to bother with."

She finished off the glass and set the coin from earlier down, and then pulled out another and stacked it on top of that one. She let her wings fall away, feeling a little more relaxed with the wine in her system. "Another one, if you will... what have you to eat here? I haven't come to this place before."

Naomi looked up at the dragon when he had addressed her and no sooner. Her gaze was aloof, almost apathetic as if the sight of a fire-breathing monster was nothing to sneeze at. She contemplated asking if there were any girls who looked a little like her sister whom she would have described if she came up, but first she wanted something else a little more as her eyes met with the bottle of liquor the dragon was holding.

"Sure. I'd like a little of that fancy bourbon you're holding if you don't mind." She said, twirling her knife closed then hiding it in a pocket sewed on to her sleeve seemingly made specifically for that purpose.

Trygon nodded at the wine bottle by the winged girl's glass.

"Help yourself."

He vaulted the bar, his wings flapping once to soften his landing, before he reached up to the rack and grabbed a tumbler. He crossed the room to the knife-wielder, and set both the glass and the bottle down in front of her. He leaned over the liquor bottle, his long neck extended to bring him eye-to-eye with her.

"If you're gonna use that knife, I expect it to be interesting. Understood?"

He cracked a grin, revealing a shark's mouth of pointed teeth, then straightened up and walked to the door. The urge to hunt was getting too strong to ignore, and as he crossed the threshold to the outside, he took wing, flying low over the forest until he vanished into the darkness.

Angel accepted the bottle, and put down the appropriate cones. Silently she began to drink again, watching the young female and the dragon. She was a human, that was what her soul said. "Be careful, who you kill. I'm going to be the one showing up most likely." She called out as she waved her hands towards the girl. Her grin was quite a bit feral as she sipped the glass of wine. She watched the dragon, understanding a bit what his problem was. She had to step back on this one, it wasn't her jurisdiction. Anyone but the gods she could collect souls on. When it involved the gods she stepped down. Trygon was not one she wished to mess with. "Happy hunting?" She called after him as he took off. Since that would be likely his reason for leaving. Oh well, more wine and possibly food for her!

She looked up, seeing a winged creature of the sort flying over her. She watched it with bright white eyes and regonized it to be a semi human...thing. The wings of it reminding her of a dragon. She hadn't seen such a thing before. Kyra had seen a good amount of things within her life time, but this was the first time she was getting out of the city and attempting to go somewhere else after she had stored up money from her least favorite job within the whole world she had been doing the last few years.

She made her way to the Inn where she gave a slight huff of dissatisfaction from the light that pestered her eyes. Not that it was terribly bright of course. She glanced up at the oil lamps, squinting before looking at the floor, her eyes adjusting to the view with less light as she stood in the door way. She felt exposed, standing there in a new place and so she moved towards the bar and slung a bag, which had been over her shoulder, onto the ground by her feet. "Quite the...evening." She muttered irritably to herself.

Naomi nodded respectfully and thanked the dragon for the drink, smiling as he left. She gave the other one who had talked to her a little bit of an intimidating stare while she sipped her drink. "I'll make sure there are pieces left for you to pick up when I'm done." Once she saw the dragon leave off to hunt, she began twirling her knife again to amuse herself while she took a sip from her glass occasionally.

Sighing, she took her feet off of the table and leaned forward to rest her head. She kept her eyes on the winged woman, making sure to keep wary around her. She looked dangerous. Definitely not someone to mess with. She wasn't sure exactly what she meant when she said she would show up, but at this point it was irrelevant.

Another new face graced the tavern, this one absolutely reeking of a purely demonic aura. But even then, Damien McCallister - as he called himself when he looked like he did in his human form - didn't seem to mind the fact that any that looked at him seemed to be somewhat intimidated by him. Even those that weren't knew well enough to stay out of the way and rightly so. Ever since having become an underling of the Goddess of Blue Moon, there were very few that challenged him and even fewer that went against him. Those that did met a slow and grisly end, but that would be the only warning he'd give. If they continued to resist, then they might as well have signed their own death certificate in their own blood.

But for now, the raven-haired, glacier-eyed "human" walked into the tavern with a small smirk on his face, the long black leather jacket hung open to expose a simple white t-shirt which was tucked into the waistline of his black denim pants which was accented by a chain belt. The black, heavy leather boots gave off a deep cadence, each footfall resounding off the wooden flooring evenly as he walked and glanced about, seeing a few faces here that stood out amongst the rest. His main focus, however, was to possibly grab himself something to drink and perhaps engage someone in idle chit-chat. For someone like him, even some of the more simple things seemed to be a bit of an ice breaker.

Damien glanced over to the female Valkyrie named Anjeru. For some reason or another, he was under the assumption that she might have been Japanese, but apparently this wasn't the case. Well, bang goes that theory, he wondered to himself after a moment before exchanging a silent hello to the fellow mediator of these lands and smirked rather cordially before he too went over to the bar and knocked on the counter twice, giving an indicator to the bartender that worked here - aside from Trygon - that he was requesting a simple ale.

He would then watch as a pint glass of the ice cold brew was slid his way, catching it in his open palm then gripped the hand before tilting it back and chugged about half of it down and placed it back on the counter, heaving a relieved sigh before turning his eyes over to her and smiled a clever yet sadistic grin at the Valkyrie.

"I believe I'm standing in the presence of my fellow mediator, am I correct?" Damien asked, soon turning to face her.

Another dark traveller entered the room as well, a wrapped hand in black bandages sweeping off a large hood revealing his mid length coal-black hair. He quirked an eyebrow as he surveyed the tavern. Sighing to himself he walked towards the bar, a soft 'clunk, clunk' sound was made as his staff hit the ground. "How... quaint." He said, disapproval evident in his tone. His gaze wandered over to the female who seemed to gather the shadows around her, his interest quickly faded however and he turned it towards a bottle behind the counter. He rose his hand nonchalantly and the bottle appeared in his hand.

"Well at least the selection isn't as poor as the furnishings..." He said as he filled a shot glass and reached into his cloak for a flask he would sip from as a chaser.

Angel watched them all in silence, watching and listening, as still as the statue she once was. Her wings didn't move, her hands did not stray from her lap. She was just focused on listening to everything around her. She had already done her worship, and the rest of the bottle was just for fun. Her fingers shifted barely as she cast her gaze around the room. A girl with a black heart, twisted mind. A Demon, A Valkyrie, A woman of Shadow, and... Someone she was sure she knew somehow but probably couldn't pin. The energy made her shudder faintly, and gave her quite the same react that Trygon had in a sense. She wasn't at all amused by her situation, but she had put herself there. She didn't bother to move, but returned to her perfect, eerie stillness.

She felt so simple in comparison to all the others. She had no special powers, only what god had given her. And what a God, the thought made her chuckle. Yeah, he had given her a hell hole of a home to start out with. It had been hard to escape that life. So far so good, she wished that she had obtained more, she could sense the power from everyone, her eyes passing over to the mediators and away as she sat on a bar and amused herself by lightly spinning back and forth upon the stool. It was boring, she lost her interest in the place and left.

A cursory glance off toward the only unoccupied corner of the tavern would show just that, nothing. But, wait. There was something there, surely it had been seen. No, no one had been sitting there all night. Another, far more scrutinizing, look would reveal that just such a figure did exist sitting at one of the tables. That lone figure had not just come in, the door had not opened again, so rationally he must have been there all night. But... for how long had his presence gone unnoticed?

The truth was that he had arrived fairly recently, materialized in the tavern when no patron had been looking in that direction. Of course, he knew the owner Trygon and the other High Lords and Ladies of the realm were aware of his presence, that bothered him none. The demonic presence which resided inside of that body, while able to hide itself from most beings, could do nothing to hide from their powerful gazes. Still, though, he had nothing to fear from them. True, he was immortal, though that feeble body of Damascus, despite how much the demon's spirit strengthened it, was not. But the pair, known simply by the human's name as the demon was from before a time when humans felt the need to name their demons, did not cause havoc for those master of Blue Moon. Or, at least, nothing much more than what they were used to.

He was wrapped in a dull gray hooded robe of sorts, the bottom hem and the sleeves frayed a little. Under that hood was an unnatural darkness, letting no light pierce through it as it covered the face of it's master. A skeletal hand slipped from the worn cuff and wrapped it's long fingers around the goblet of wine and lifted. The ruby red liquid disappeared at it was raised to the hidden face, unseen icy eyes surveying the patrons with meticulous precision.