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The World's End Tavern

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The young man agian walks in through the tavern door. Leaning his staff next to him at the bar, he takes a seat and looks around the room. Seeing nothing intresting, he manages to get a flagon of Pale Ale, and begins to nurse the drink, taking a small sip here and there. Wondering when everyone would come back to the tavern, he sighed and spoke softly to himself, "Some days are just so fucking boring."
 
Leon was passing through the forest when he passed by the lake and saw the quaint looking building near it. He decided it would be a good idea to rest for awhile from his travels and enter the tavern. He approached the door and looked around, feeling nervous for some reason. Was he supposed to just walk in? What if it was some sort of exclusive club? Would they kick him out? Leon didn't really like to start trouble or get into any necessary conflict. A sigh passed his lips as he finally decided to enter. If it was some sort of exclusive club, he would just leave immediately...no harm done. His hand went to the handle and he let himself inside.

He looked around for a bit and sighed a bit. Everyone looked friendly here. He made himself worried for no reason! Leon had a tendency to do that to himself. He closed the door behind him and noticed a man at the bar. He hears his comment and frowns a bit. Leon walks over to the bar a few seats away from him and looks at the drinks, wondering what he should get. "Hmm...I hear you." Leon replied softly to the man nursing his ale. "But that's why you gotta make your own fun." He turned to him and smiled a little. Leon was trying to be friendly to everyone since he didn't really know anybody here. Leon wanted to befriend everyone quickly just in case a bar brawl happened later. He would rather not be some nobody at the bar to be fought with later. "What's good here to drink?" He asked curiously.
 
Tathariel looked intrestedly at the newcomer. "Well", he said softly, "that depends on your taste good sir." "What do you prefer? Something hard, or something smooth?"
He waved his hand at the shelf behind the bar. "As you can see, you can damn near get anything you can think of."
 
Leon tilted his head and looked towards all of the drinks and shrugged a bit. "I like a nice smooth beer...an occasional wine is also nice. I'm not terribly picky. Got any recommendations?" He gave a friendly smile, happy that he had found a friend so quickly. "Oh yeah I can see that. The stock pile of alcohol is very impressive here. I bet when it's busy here it makes for some fun nights, huh?" Leon looked out into space for a moment, reflecting on some of his adventuresome nights at bars he had been to previously in other towns.
 
Once more, the lanterns caught flame in the World's End as Trygon crossed the threshold. He looked about slowly, and snorted softly. Seems that this place, rather like the Blue Moon itself, was dead without his presence. But that was fine with him. Such a link was power, and power was delightful.

He made his way to the bar, and resumed his classic perch on the corner. With idle destructiveness, he tore flakes of wood out of the bartop, as his tail retrieved a bottle of Pernod absinthe. The dragon leaned backwards, and collected some sugar and a bottle of water, before mixing himself a drink and taking a long sip. His yellow eyes drifted closed, and he reached his mind out, extending his influence to the beings of Blue Moon.

Come to me~
 
'Come to me~'

Shaking her head, almost vigorously, Vixen tried her best to push the strange voice from her thoughts. Instead, she was landed with a headache and an urge deep within her chest. Straightening from her crouched position, she lifted her whip from around a man's neck and started to coil it around her waist. He wasn't even entirely dead, her most recent paid victim, but she somehow couldn't find a care in the world.

He reached out to her, dazed, confused, most likely thinking she was giving him some kind of merciful act. Her upper lip lifted slightly, eyes narrowing dangerously down at him. Without a word, or any indication, she lifted her right leg and jammed her boot's spiked heel into his forehead. The smell of his blood was thick in the air, and still she couldn't let herself stay. She needed to find the source of this voice...

After turning her back to the lifeless corpse, blood pooled around his limp head, she started to walk. It seemed like seconds, and she was standing in front of a place she had never seen before. Inhaling deeply, pulling her lips into a thin line, she continued on and entered what appeared to be some form of tavern. Green eyes scouted the area, stopping short on a dragon. Her chest pulsed, and head ache seemed to grow.

"So this is the bastard inside my head, hm?" She mused aloud to herself, not caring if he could fully hear her or not. Vixen's boots pushed forward, hands at her sides, eyes never leaving the large beast before her, mild curiosity painted all over her face.
 
A call can never be denied, especially one that you cannot know but feel deep in your very mind. He was not one to really listen to such impulses, but without them, we are nothing more than just a pile of muscle, bone and tissue with no instinct. Worse than an animal, but a husk. Nights such as these always excite the blood, get the heart pumping and the lungs working overtime to get the oxygen to your brain.

Move, Breathe, Think, Look, Analyze, Mark, Hunt, Enjoy.

Stiff joints cracked and popped from the position he kept in a tree, opening his amber eyes and seeing the world again through the darkness and saw the colors sift and the blurs sharpen to that of his surroundings. Nimbly jumping down, his body shifted turned and made a form which mostly resembled human, but only in the fact that his facial structure was similar.

The flick of a lighter, the sudden long drag off a cigarette, and there was the smoke exhaling clearly as he walked towards the bar, only stopping at the door to politely finish the cigarette, not certain of the rules, but this was the hunting ground for the night.

Upon entrance, he saw a person sitting at the edge and eyes met for a moment to give recognition and respect where it was supposed to be due and sat down at the bar, setting down a few bills and receiving a 1979 Cabernet Sauvignon.

Name: Jason Reese
Race: Muse
Age: 22
 
Ah, excellent. Two peons. The dragon stood slowly, and made an over-ornate bow as his tail wrapped around his ankles.

"Welcome, welcome, to the World's End. I do hope you two will be more amusing then most of the fare this place has gotten me... Psychotic technicolor warriors and fangirl angels aren't quite my style, ya dig?"

He laughs and jumps down from the bartop, landing behind it. He passed the cabernet to the human... Ish critter that had entered, and looked at the doorway, still framed around the other peon, a girl. His pointed nose lifted, and he inhaled softly. Ew. Vampire. A scent he had far, far too much experience with, dating back to his days trapped in Kaiser. But they had once been his favorite meal, and he supposed he could work up a bit of interest in Consuming another, if it came to it... If it came to it. But attractive females were - Typically - more fun alive then dead. He grinned toothily and gestured to a stool.

"Sit."
 
Blinking dully, Vixen watched as the Dragon lifted himself and bowed before her, and another male who had entered behind her. Lifting her chin, eyes narrowed, she kept her space and observed his stature. Her thoughts were hardly on the male who had entered silently, and more so on the one who had breached her mind.

Vixen had little time to pay attention to his introduction, though she nodded her head in recognition. The corner of her lips pulled into a weak, lopsided smirk, highly amused already.

"You called because you wanted entertainment, pretty boy?" She asked rather coyly, one eyebrow raising as she made her way towards the bar. She paid little attention to the fact that her heels were bloody, and leaving the slightest trail behind her, and that her adrenaline was still spiking within her veins. All attention was solely on the situation she had gotten herself into.

Grabbing one of the chairs, she gripped the back of it and spun it around until it's back was facing the bar. Straddling the wood rather carelessly, she flicked fiery hair from her eyes, gaze flicking back and forth from the males on either side of her.

"Got anything hard to swallow? I need to work off this headache you gave me."
 
As the man handed him the drink, he smiled and raised his glass to him in respect. He hadn't spoken yet, and with it, he took a sip and relaxed into it, a soft sigh and he turned only slightly to look over his shoulder at the ...strong woman who entered into the place, announcing the disdain immediately, but seeing that glimmer of something more to it.

As he watched her, his body shifted, without thought, to that of the perfect victim to her but faded just as quickly, a man who cannot control what he is, but is the inspiration behind beautiful acts. As he is back to normal, he raises his glass in her direction and looks over to the gentleman who seems to own the place.

His voice was a heavy timbre, but nothing grating or gravelly.
"I suppose an introduction is fair in this.. Jason Reese."
 
Trygon laughed sharply, and set the bottle of Pernod in front of her. He didn't offer the sugar and water that typically cut the 136-proof liquor - After all, she had asked for something hard to swallow, and this was the handiest option that didn't involve her getting on her knees.

"Indeed, I did want entertainment, and I figure you'll provide it, one way or another. Briefly, at least."

He snorted softly as he noticed the blood trail behind her, but almost as soon as his attention was on it, the wood soaked up the liquid completely, erasing it entirely. Trygon silently thanked whatever long-past sorcerer had realized that adventurer's taverns needed to self-repair and had designed a suite of magics around that fact.
 
Brief__Disaster said:
As the man handed him the drink, he smiled and raised his glass to him in respect. He hadn't spoken yet, and with it, he took a sip and relaxed into it, a soft sigh and he turned only slightly to look over his shoulder at the ...strong woman who entered into the place, announcing the disdain immediately, but seeing that glimmer of something more to it.

As he watched her, his body shifted, without thought, to that of the perfect victim to her but faded just as quickly, a man who cannot control what he is, but is the inspiration behind beautiful acts. As he is back to normal, he raises his glass in her direction and looks over to the gentleman who seems to own the place.

His voice was a heavy timbre, but nothing grating or gravelly.
"I suppose an introduction is fair in this.. Jason Reese."
Click to expand...
"Trygon."

The dragon nodded cordially, silently appreciating the respect this one had. It would get him much farther then the girl. He noted the small fluctuations in the temper and tone of the being's appearance, and blinked slowly, his eyes coming slightly unfocused as he looked beyond. What a unique beastie this Jason was...
 
Sometimes, she ends up places with no idea how she got there. Usually that's because Meth never has any place in particular to go, and so she starts walking, and just finds herself standing before a building, a bar, a hotel, a shack, a cave. And almost always just before a good rain too. As if her mind, while on auto pilot, is linked into the weather itself, and likes to keep her dry. Running a hand through ruffled pink hair, she strolls up to the door and slips in quietly enough.

Gray eyes glance around nervously, pink lips pulled into a slight smile, hardened only slightly by the piercings on both sides of her bottom lip. Her face is young, and her body is more lithe than curvy, giving most the impression of an awkward teenager rather than the young woman that she is. Seeing other patrons in the establishment, she bows her head back down as she quickly moves to the closest empty chair. The three belts all hanging loosely around her waist clink loudly as she flops into the chair with a soft sigh, glad to be off her feet at least for the moment. It's an old herd mentality to always be on the move, but it's still exhausting.

Even with the strange assortment of individuals, she sticks out. Probably due to her love of color. Today, she had on torn up blue jeans and a lime green sweater that both clashed and complimented her choice in hair color, and her golden sun kissed skin tone. Chewing on her bottom look, her gaze follows the blood trail to the woman, always a little unnerved at the amount of violence in the world. But as quickly as she noticed it, the blood was gone. A gasp of surprise escapes her lips, and she has to catch herself from slipping from her seat and onto the floor to closer inspect just how the floor cleaned itself. That was certainly something new to her. "No...way," comes her soft but high pitched voice, still in awe, and fully distracted from the other patrons and the intimidating host.
 
Eying the bottle of Pernod in front of her, Vixen's eyes glazed over slightly. Leaning on the back of the chair a little more, tilting it and using her feet as replaced legs, she pondered about taking a mouthful and seeing how it tasted. The dragon's voice interrupted her thoughts, and before she knew it, the bottle was in her hand and she was pulling the top of it off.

Raising it to her lips, she took some of the liquid within her mouth, eyelids slightly faltering as the harsh taste flooded against her tongue. She swallowed, nonetheless, and went in for another mouthful. "That's quite a bit to ask of a stranger, you know?"

Vixen's attention flicked towards the male on her other side, hearing his introduction. A grim smile toyed with her lips, a white, dangerous fang poking at her bottom lip as she did so. "Such a gentlemen... Too bad I'm not a lady." Closing her eyes, she tilted the bottle one last time to her lips and swallowed a large mouthful before placing it back down, her ears catching Trygon's introduction crystal clear.

Jason and Trygon. Arching a brow, she stretched her free arms over her head, debating whether or not she wanted to share her identity sooner than later. Swallowing, after deciding, her hands came down to clench the back of the chair and relaxed. "Well, since everyone else is doing it... Vixen." Glancing from side to side, a half satisfied look on her face, she reached for the bottle again.
 
The dragon eyeballs the new patron briefly. His call had been more successful then anticipated, but this one seemed... Somewhat out of his demographic. He caught the faint recoil when she saw the blood spotting the floor, as well as her shock as the tavern cleaned itself. Oh yes, very innocent... He felt his salivary glands briefly pick up as he imagined the sweetness her Essence must hold, the delightful flavors of wonder and inexperience, and the shocked, confused expression she would wear as his talons shattered her sternum and punctured the rich meat of her heart... The vampire's voice brought him out of his reverie, and he refocused on her in time to hear her name. He watched her drink deep off the bottle, and mentally whistled to himself. Vampire's naturally, had a higher tolerance for alcohol then most creatures, but that was still some heavy intake of thick flavor.

"Vixen? I think you're looking for a different kind of bar, girlie. One with poles, maybe. What's your real name, mm?"

He grinned sardonically, and his long neck curled down to bring his gaze on level with hers, well within striking distance, should his quip convince her to try it.
 
Newcomers... were so interesting. He tried not to look at her, focusing on the rather... powerful woman that sat with Trygon and the like and he couldn't help but turn to face the technicolored woman as the blood dissipated. Again, his body shifted, just for that flash and he was that of similar stature, rugged by the amount he walked, toned and sun worn, his clothes a mash of colors and babbles, looking more the vagabond than anything before it again becomes the shadow of the normal amber-eyed gentleman. He looks to the lady... no.. the woman chugging from the bottle and quirks an eyebrow slowly only to look to their caller.

"If we are to be entertainment, how do you expect us to entertain without giving us a sense of what will do that? Bloodshed? Jokes? I'm sorry to say, I don't know any good jokes and I can't do stand up comedy very well.."

It was an attempt at a joke, really. a sad attempt, but an attempt nonetheless.
 
A wide grin took over Vixen's lips, her fingers holding the neck of the bottle strongly as she inhaled through her nose. Oh, yes... the head ache was well worth the calling. The vampire could already tell this was going to be well worth her while.

"I'm sure you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Eyes narrowed challengingly, enjoying how the beast was now level with her eyes. Her own hardened, just for a moment, before they softened into a playful gaze. "My real name? The only guy I know that knew it wouldn't have told you, even if I had kept him alive." Slyly, she licked her bottom lip off, collecting the small fragments of alcohol she hadn't consumed.

"Why're you so interested, eh? I'm sure you've got some Princess locked away in a tower, waiting for your abuse whenever you choose to return to her." She cocked a brow.
 
Her nose wrinkles ever so slightly at the moods around her, and the topic of conversation as a whole. Some places could be so uncivilized. Which was saying a lot, coming from a girl who grew up in a tribe like setup. She shifts, letting her gaze jump from person to person, her curiousity getting the better of her. Her flighty, tense smile however, is plastered in place. She opts not to introduce herself, as she doesn't have a lot of interest in drawing attention to herself just yet, as it seems like a terrible idea. The individuals here radiated a sort of intensity that was best not to fuck with, in her experience.
 
Trygon cocked an eyebrow and grinned at Jason. His humor was poor, but that was no problem. The effort was appreciated, but the implication was even more worthwhile. If he couldn't do jokes, then his other suggestion would seem preferable.

"If you're bad at comedy, then perhaps we should favor your other option, yes? You seem so eager to dance for my amusement, maybe I should have you kill miss Vixen, ja? I always did favor a good arena..."

He laughed harshly, and turned his gaze to Vixen. He briefly focused his attention, applying a sharp spike of thought to her, merely enough force to remind her of the access he had to her mind, and that her secrets only remained so because it suited him that they should.

"I'm short on princesses at the moment. Not that it matters, I save my abuse for harlots. Fortunately, one seems to have fallen into my lap tonight... As well as the means to abuse her."

His gaze flickered back to Jason, and he straightened up, leaning his weight on the bar. He spoke sardonically, his gaze slowly travelling to the quiet girl at her table.

"But then, perhaps it would be rude of me to pit my guests against each other... Especially when one of them seems so offput by violence, ja?"
 
Trygon said:
Trygon cocked an eyebrow and grinned at Jason. His humor was poor, but that was no problem. The effort was appreciated, but the implication was even more worthwhile. If he couldn't do jokes, then his other suggestion would seem preferable.

"If you're bad at comedy, then perhaps we should favor your other option, yes? You seem so eager to dance for my amusement, maybe I should have you kill miss Vixen, ja? I always did favor a good arena..."

He laughed harshly, and turned his gaze to Vixen. He briefly focused his attention, applying a sharp spike of thought to her, merely enough force to remind her of the access he had to her mind, and that her secrets only remained so because it suited him that they should.

"I'm short on princesses at the moment. Not that it matters, I save my abuse for harlots. Fortunately, one seems to have fallen into my lap tonight... As well as the means to abuse her."

His gaze flickered back to Jason, and he straightened up, leaning his weight on the bar. He spoke sardonically, his gaze slowly travelling to the quiet girl at her table.

"But then, perhaps it would be rude of me to pit my guests against each other... Especially when one of them seems so offput by violence, ja?"
Click to expand...


As he listened, he was also watching the interaction between the two ahead of him and his mind wandered off to things of just inkling of ideas, sprouting, manifesting and growing, every single one of them until his attention was drawn, the ideas crumbling away like ash.

His eyes fixed to his hosts and there was no fear, no trepidation, but also no emotions. He was simply there and with it, the bounds of moral decency allowed him to react in such manners seem acceptable.

"If you wish a fight, then so be it, but it is not with the intention to see the death of either of us in that case, but simply to be the victor."

He then lifted his forgotten drink, taking another sip of it and sighing in a contented way.

"Would it rather be the death and pain of one with the suffering of another, or the pain of both in torture I suppose.. choosing your own hand over those who control when holding the knife that ends you life."

He looked into his wine glass then, frowning bit and shaking his head. He hadn't seen this form of itself in quite some time. recurring themes are so ...cliche...
 
"If that's the plan, count me out. I could always leave?" she suggests, quirking a brow and glance towards the door. Her hands fidget in her lap, tugging at the strings of her jeans, slowly stretching out the already existing holes at her thighs. Glancing up at the host, his imposing height only adding to her general nervousness, her flighty nature getting the better of her. Perhaps showing up here wasn't the best of choices.
 
"Mm, perhaps I was overzealous. In any case, I've had tonight's amusement. I welcome you all to stay as long as you like, and return whenever it pleases you. But for now, I'm off."

The dragon bows again, and paces out the door, taking wing for parts unknown.
 
Vixen's grin remained, only widening slightly, rather than decreasing. "Kill me? Are you sure that'd be so easily accomplished?" If it was a battle Trygon wanted to see, Vixen wouldn't mind putting up a show. However, she didn't fight for sport- she fought for blood.

She felt Trygon's control, instantly, but didn't fight it. Instead, she met his gaze with a stiffened chin, her shoulders straight, and a fangy smile. Even if he did find a way to reach the name within her head, she wouldn't have been aware it was there. Upon her full change, she had forgotten her name, and most of her human life.

"Wishful thinking never gets you anywhere." Narrowing her eyes, her lips part as if to say something else, but instead her head cocks slightly to the left, eyes looking over her shoulder towards the closed door. Her lips press firmly together, eyes instantly losing their playful nature, and quickly being replaced with a defensive hardness. "Even if your words were anywhere close to the truth... it wouldn't have mattered. My attention is needed somewhere else."

Standing, the bottle being placed back on the counter, she tipped her index and middle finger to her forehead in a small salute, in means of departure. Turning on her heels she starts for the door, eyes briefly seeking the female Trygon had referred to moments ago, before slipping through the door's frame and into the night.
 
Sunlight had just begun to wane in the eastern sky when Tathariel emerged from the mouth of the cavern, its dark mouth adorned with jagged rocks and low hanging stalactites. As he left the opening, he looked back and couldn't help a shudder as he observed the hole. Its dark, damp, forbidding look served as a reminder to never again try to loot the ruins of the long, forgotten cities that scattered across the underground region with out more help. Cursing himself for wasting so many supplies on his trek through the underground caverns, he walked on, and after venturing a bit into the nearby forest he slowed to a halt.

Reaching into his cloak, he took out what looked like a black, cloth shaped disk, and tossed in onto the ground. As he looked inside the disk, he saw it magically widen to the point where he could leap into it, and when it did, he jumped in. Once inside, a bleak and barren, empty looking room formed around him. About the size of a small room, the only light coming from the hole in the ceiling where he jumped through, three chests sat. Sighing deeply, he kicked one of the three chests laying on the ground, and frowned as it made a hollow empty sound. Repeating this process with his two other chests, he activated a spell of levitation and rose up through the hole. Once out, he bent and grabbed at the edge of the hole, watching as it shrank back down to a plain disk of black cloth and tucked it away into his pocket.

Pondering his next move, he was startled out of his thought process, as a strong voice, deep and mighty, with magic penetrating its every fiber, spoke in his head. ~come to me~ Tathariel thought to himself, and after a moments consideration, decided it would be his best choice if he stopped to re-supply and relax. He softly spoke the words of a teleporting spell and in a flash of light, disappeared from the forest. Popping into existence a moment later outside the worlds end tavern, he watched as a woman exited the tavern, a hard look on her face. Wondering how anyone could leave such a place in bad spirits, he walked up to the door.

Pushing it open with one dark, tanned hand, he entered the tavern. Wiping his white locks of hair from his forehead, he looked around and spotted the creature who had summoned him. Wondering if the dragon lord was just bored, or actually wanted something, he decided to let it speak first. As one knows, such creatures are testy, and unpredictable he thought to himself. Pulling his hood down, and setting his staff by the door, he walked to the bar, and took a seat. Removing some gold from his pouch and slapping it on the counter, he conjured a pipe from thin air. After inspecting it to make sure it was packed and ready, he lit it with a small fire from his fingertip. Inhaling deeply, he wondered what drink he would try first, as he had only visited the tavern a few times.
 
Glancing up from the glass of water Meth had helped herself to, she watches with complete indifference as the cruel woman strolls out, talking an awful lot considering their host didn't much seem to care for her or what she has to say. However, she smiles politely as eye contact is made, an acknowledging bow of the head serving as her goodbye, though the pink haired girl wasn't sorry to see the blood stained soul go. But like a revolving door, another male made his entrance almost as quickly as the woman had left.

Smiling brightly, she leans forward with interest as he lights his pipe that had simply just...appeared using nothing more than his hands. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen so much magic in one place before. The floors cleaned themselves! Isn't that impressive? And so useful," she rambles on, her gray gaze dropping to the floor once more, tracing the now invisible trail of blood droplets. But remembering her manners, she straightens and gives the white haired man another dazzlingly wide smile. "Oh, sorry, you probably don't care at all. Don't mind me," Meth murmurs apologetically, folding her hands up in her lap as her lime green sweater rustles in the quiet tavern.
 
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