The City (IC) [M]

Started by Boog, May 14, 2009, 12:01:32 PM

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Boog

Across the ocean to the west there's a city that almost nobody lives in on purpose.
You're better off calling it The City, because if you ask it's name you'll get many different answers. Angels call it Smogholme, and say one of their kind was its founding ruler. Dragons claim that the city was once theirs, until they lost it in a bet to the fae, who then gave it to a young peasant lad as a gift, and say the original name was Burmarken. The insectis call it some sound akin to a cricket in a combustion engine that, as near as most can translate, means "don't eat here." The fae, when pressed, say "What city? I don't see anything." And promptly change the subject.
Lets start with what we do know then. The City is 20 miles long, 25 miles wide and is home to all manner of curses, squatters, vagrants of all species and the odd unfortunate who the City hasn't permitted to leave. Those who have braved it streets come back talking about streets that look like they couldn't be from any later than 40 years ago, abandoned vehicles parked in front of buildings of comparatively recent styles of architecture, even houses with the power still on and functioning. Others who venture into the it's depths talk about "dancers" and "worms" and other impossible sights deep within the city's heart, usually in between frantic gibbering...

Once there were floods of people who would delve into the city for its secrets. How can a city like any other you could live in today have such signs of age? What happened that unleashed its curses, and worse things that stalk its streets at night? Unfortunately public opinion is fickle, and people lose interest in a mystery left unsolved too long. The rush of tourism eventually died, and with it many of the villages surrounding the City. The only remaining one of note, really, is Oldhill. Occassionally one can see remains of the tourism boom that first sustained the city, old gift shops or names of pubs like "the adventurer's refuge" or "the dancer's nest". Nowadays it's sustained only by the stubbornness of its residents.
Which leaves The City to be as picky as it so pleases about who it calls. It doesn't take much. After all, adventurers rarely need much incentive to do something dangerous and stupid...

Moze turned the sign hanging off the door of the "Last Chance" inn from Closed to Open and plodded inside. The former adventurer was getting old, he could feel it. Hell, he could see it too. Stream of younger folks full of fire, all passing through his inn on the way to that damn city. Less these days, but still just enough to remind him he was an old fart. He sighed and got to work taking down chairs in the barroom. On the off chance there might be customers.

Paladin Sheppard

The door creaked open and a young traveler stepped inside. She was clad in traveling leathers and a cloak, but she shed the cloak as soon as she was inside, hanging it near the door.

"Hello? are you open?" The Tasmanian Devil asked as she stood near the door.

Lisky

#2
Approaching the edge of the small town Edaric took a moment to 'correct' his appearance, hiding both sets of wings was so second nature that he was surprised he'd let them slip out during his travels.  Focusing for a second, he formed a mind shield then walked into town.  Clad in a lightweight black cotton outfit, the Leopard wore a form fitting T-shirt and loose cargo pants, over the outfit, he wore a long hooded cloak, although the hood was currently pulled back, exposing his head.

He walked into town, spotted the Inn, and proceeded inside at a rather causal swagger, mimicking the overconfidence of your average fresh out of the academy adventurer rather well.  He noticed the young looking girl, little on the shorter side for my taste, but perhaps she could provide some amusement while I wait.  Introducing himself, "hello fellow traveler.  Edaric Ahnasazi, and what name, might i ask, has been bestowed upon such a lovely face"  He flashed the girl a genuinely friendly smile, and proceeded to catch glimpses of her surface thoughts.


I support the demon race (usually with my hands)!   Also... LOOK A DISTRACTION! -->

Mao

Weary from what seemed like months of straight travel, Mao slowly trudged along a the road of what seemed to be a near abandoned village.  He hadn't seen any names for the place posted and frankly, he hadn't looked.  He hadn't seen civilization in probably weeks, his supplies were running low and all he could think of was a place to rest a bit and wash the dust off of his fur.  A few signs hung from buildings along the road he trudged along, none of them really seeming to be what he was looking for.  Eventually, he came across a sign that made him smirk a bit, "Last Chance".  Wondering if this was either a sign or warning, he decided to look in and see if it could provide the services he was seeking, or at the very least something to wet his dry throat.

"Some tea would be nice." He thought.

With a quick smile at the thought, he strode toward and slowly opened the door.  There were only three people there that he could see, two of which appeared to be patrons.  The other he identified as likely being the barkeep, noting that he was busy taking chairs down from the tables.  Not wanting to disturb any of them he carefully removed his satchel and placed it by a nearby chair and sat down.

Paladin Sheppard

Glancing over her shoulder the Tassie Devil looked over the newcomer, and the second who breezed through and sat down.

Turning to face the Leopard, she smiled, "My name would be Ephrael, Ephrael Falco, Adventurer come Huntress. I'm gonna assume you're in a similar line of work, only people around here are locals or people like us..."

Teh_Hobo

#5
The Hobo blinked. The sign. The sign caught his eye.
Sign. Is it a good sign? Bad sign? Hmm.
He squinted at the sign. "Open" it said. He squinted harder.
Can't tell. Just a sign? No. It's never just a sign. Why can't I tell if its good or bad?
He moved forward a few feet, and squinted again.
Still can't tell. Blasted sign. A sign should identify itself, none of this nonsense.
He began walking towards the sign, glaring at it as if it somehow offended him. He eventually reached the sign on the door. He took the sign in one dirty hand, held it up to his face, and glared at it. He sniffed it. He considered licking it, but decided against it. He may be homeless, but even he had standards. Besides, that hardly ever helped to determine whether something was good or bad. For the first time in recent memory, the sign appeared totally normal. He opened the door. He saw a bar. There were bottles behind it.
Eh? Whats this? Why is my friend behind the bar? My friend belongs in my stomach.
He walked in, seemingly without even noticing the other patrons, and hunched over at the bar.
One week in air, two weeks in water, two weeks in water, eight weeks in ground.

Noone

Kyirri felt a sharp pain in the back of his head, a tug, almost. He glanced around, squinted, his vision was blurry. Fatigue, hunger, thirst, plagued him. He kept himself silent as he paced along, his legs seemingly moving without himself to control them. He glanced around, but tried not to take too many notes of where he was going or what he was doing... continually striking himself with the thought This is a bad idea... this is a bad idea...

Kyirri stopped inside the "Last Chance" inn, he kept his hands at his sides, and pulled back on his gloves, making sure they were tightly on. After stepping inside, he glanced around, taking note of any oddities. Another pain coursed through his head, vision blurred, yet some objects remained clear. Kyirri shook his head and tried to not think about what he was doing here. He found himself a place he could sit alone, and hopefully more accommodated to his height.
He swiftly counted through his things, crunched some numbers in his head. Great,.. he thought, just great, I think I only have enough money on hand for a light meal, a cheap room, and... that's about it. He let out a soft sigh.

Tipod

The ground scrunched noisily beneath Payden's boots as he approached the inn; four days of travel and two attempted stickups by would-be robbers had brought him to the only safe haven outside The City, which still seemed like a dive compared to most other places he'd seen. Regardless, any inn was a source of actual food, which was a welcome diversion from the hardtack and salt pork he'd been sustaining himself on since he left. Walk in like you always do. But this time, you're not the sheriff in these parts. He straightened his olive drab jacket, iron breastplate, fatigues and forage cap before finally stepping inside with steady, deliberate clomps.

Even though Payden knew his jurisdiction meant nothing in this county, he still fell into the standard "profile everybody" mentality upon seeing the other patrons. Fucking kids. Slight resentment welled up in his gut at the sight of the four adventurers and bum, but all it took to make the bitterness die down was remembering that, hey, these whippersnappers were the entire reason he was here. If it weren't for young hotheads charging into danger, there wouldn't be any corpses for him to loot. "Innkeep," he grumbled as he dropped his field pack aside and took a seat, "what's on the menu? A man needs nourishment before plunging into the heart of darkness."
"How is it that I should not worship Him who created me?"
"Indeed, I do not know why."

Gareeku

There had better be a damn bar around here...

For days he had been walking now. All without any sign of civilisation. the trail ahead of cloaked stanger had gone from a dusty path through various types of landscape to one made of stone, winding its way through the plains ahead. In the far distance, there could be seen a faint outline of something. A settlement perhaps? Or maybe, as the hooded stanger standing there was hoping, The City.

Sighing, the stranger pressed on. Nothing could be of his actual features, as the brown hooded cloak that was wrapped around him, hid of view anything distinguishing. Even his face was mostly unseen in the shadows that the hood create, save for a white furred canine muzzle and black sandal-like footwear worn on white furred feet. For years he had heard stories of the city he was looking for; tales of curses, monsters and the like. Something which he found most curious, and so had set out upon deciding to see it for himself, not to mention the fact that if it had claimed victims that could be rescued, he would do his best to claim them back, even if he may not admit that. If what he heard was true, then it would be a challenging time. Of course, had he known the journey it would take to reach it, he might not have bothered. But still, hopefully he was near his intended destination.

Lifting his head slightly, the canine figure looked to see that there was a tavern a short distance off. A slightly strange sight, considering the stories about the city, but welcoming nonetheless. Looking at the sign above it, he could see it had been christened "Last Chance". Scoffing slightly, he looked back at the building itself.

About damn time. I could use a drink.

A few minutes later, the front door of the tavern swung open, and in the doorway stood the stranger. Taking no notice to look at the others in the bar, he made a beeline for the bar, sitting upon one of the barstools as he looked towards the bartender.

"An ale, please." a gruff voice requested from the canine's mouth after the bartender had served the others. Looking slightly to the side, he could see a couple of others were at the bar; one talking to the bartender himself, another hunched over, his species not clear. Looking away again, the canine waited.

Lisky

#9
Fishing through the thoughts bouncing around the bar, Edaric managed to suppress a smirk at all the seeming negativity. This is supposed to be a place of adventure and wealth, where a man can enter a peasant and leave a king... he thought to himself. 
Looking slightly down at the small tasmanian devil girl, Ed gave her a bit of a grin and said "You are quite the observant one i must say, Ephrael.  I too am an adventurer" slayer  "as well as a treasure hunter.  Any chance i can buy you a drink?"

He couldn't quite help adding the little thought in, it helped him maintain his act as a being... looking around the bar again, he couldn't help but notice that it seemed far more full than a few minutes ago.  He almost let go of his disguise as an almost predatory grin crept into his expression for a second as he imagined how easy it would be to steal from these poor adventurous saps.  The wicked grin was gone as quickly as it had appeared, he hoped no body had noticed but if they had, he appeared far friendlier now.

As his mind began trying to rationalize a reason for the momentary lapse, the acrid stench of the hobo wafted over and brought a slight cringe to Ed's face.  Figuring it couldn't hurt, he lifted his left arm, pointed his hand towards the hobo. The hand glowed a dull bluish-green and with a flick of the wrist gesture, he cast a quick spell, removing the stench from the hobo.  The distance cleaning removed the oder, but the dirt and grime was still upon the man... Saying to Eph, "sorry, I didn't think i could last any longer with whatever that smell was that he had on him..."


I support the demon race (usually with my hands)!   Also... LOOK A DISTRACTION! -->

Myr

Hmm...seems a bit quiet; normally there's always someone running by now, Raek thought as he made his way slowly through the community-frankly he'd never understood why the other races out there insisted on living together in such numbers. Trolls like himself tended to be solitary by nature-more food that way. Then again, the wolfish troll thought with a slight smile, I like it. No crowds, no staring...and why do I suddenly feel hungry already? His muzzle creased in irritation, looking as grotesque as the rest of his body.

That's right. Trolls were naturally hideous, weren't they? Rare it was for one to actually look nice...and the one here wasn't one of those. Also known for being highly crude and more than a little stupid, they were some of the most annoying creatures an adventurer could face...but that's where Raek was different. He had learned things; and even learned to control that monstrous appetite trolls were known for...well, almost control...and he still did feel that feral pleasure associated with crushing the occasional enemy into paste, at times...

"Got to be somewhere for eating," He grunted in a nearly unintelligible tone as his stomach grumbled thickly. Pale brown eyes searched the area thoughtfully as he scented the air. He didn't carry a lot of cash, normally-he'd never seen the use in having it personally since it tended to cause a lot of trouble.

How about there? The brute of a fellow thought as he noted the sign a few moments later, Inn's have food...normally. The troll-wolf shrugged, before making his way over to examine the sign better. Might as well read, I took the time to learn how, he thought.

"Last chance, huh?" Raek snorted almost contemptuously a few seconds later before going inside. He did, however, decide to make sure the somewhat worn axe he had at his belt was more visible- he was going into a place where adventurers and the like tended to meet, and the chap might as well show them he had an obvious means of defending himself. "Oei," He grunted softly as he looked around the room thoughtfully.

Never, ever were there really any chairs that looked like they could support him in these places, he noted as his muzzle wrinkled slightly-one could, perhaps, mistake him for baring those teeth of his, but still. And such an assortment of guests too...his stomach grumbled more fitfully at that. Oh, be still, he thought irritably as he walked up to the counter- a glance told him it probably wasn't wise to try the seats here, either, so he was standing rather close to the others already there.

Probably end up sitting against the wall again... Raek's eyes narrowed as he looked over the counter. "Oei, you working here?" He rumbled at the innkeeper in what to him was a friendly manner- that thick tone making it a bit hard to understand him despite the fact he was speaking clearly.
'I've seen monks try and cover their ears when they hear these haunting notes, but they just don't understand that your soul doesn't need ears to hear.' ~Malkithe

'Sanity is a spider clinging to a fluttering thread of web unaware of the fingers reaching for it, catching it, plopping it in my mouth....' ~Myr

Aisha deCabre

#11
The view of the famed City had a dark tint to it, unlike any she had ever seen.  The next adventurer to be stepping across the threshold was ever the more intrigued.

Her blood-red cloak was rustled by a slight breeze as she walked through paths of stone and mortar, wrinkling her nose at the smells assaulting it.  The place wasn't lifeless, for she could hear voices upon the wind the closer she got.  But it felt like it should be lifeless; strange as the notion seemed, that's the feeling she received.  Barely welcoming, only tolerant.  Seldom turning away, but at the trespasser's own risk.  The kind of thing that attracted her kind.  Explorers, adventurers, the brave and the powerful...and it attracted troublemakers, as well.  She was surprised that her tail ring, barely visible on a snaking black tail swishing out from under the cape, hadn't given a glow.

The dark figure, Aisha the Risen, wasn't worried.  Trouble was her life.  She lived on it, looked for it, and if possible, cut it at the root.  The sword buckled at her back and hanging over the cape was sure evidence, and who knew what other surprises the bounty hunter had hidden.

It was then that upon the path she spotted a respite.  An inn with the clearly-named sign emblazoned with the letters "Last Chance."  Aisha chuckled to herself, for there seemed to be a hidden meaning behind the sign.  Ominous for a seedy-looking place.  But, it was as good a place as any; her food pouch was out and the feline was famished.

Looking around for anyone else, with caution, the panthress didn't so much walk as stroll from the shadows nearby with a confident gait and observe the "open" sign.  Wrinkling her nose again at the dusted-in scent in the air, she reached out and swung it open into an area that was slightly empty, but still full enough with strangers of the same persuasion as herself.

Still keeping the crimson hood over her black face, her equal-colored eyes scanned the area.  She strolled past the tables and bar...and strangely, the scent she had gotten from outside was significantly lessened and dulled.  But still the people at the bar and at various tables seemed like a surly bunch, some appearing friendly enough.

"Charming..." she murmured in a smooth voice, deep and accented, and tainted with the hardships of every mission.  "Really adds to the atmosphere."

A movement of her cape revealed a navy blue jacket, and a red-and-gray outfit, something silver and sharp shimmering from the side of the belt.  Casually, Aisha took a seat at the bar, nearby another figure in a brown cloak, who didn't immediately strike her as familiar yet, and waited to be served.  "Inkeep, a pint of ale, por favor..." she said in a tone of neutrality, "And if you'd tell me what you have in the way of food around here..."

While she waited, the panthress took a quick scan about the bar, and paid attention especially to the ones close by, in case they had the ability to give her trouble.  The humans in particular looked strange--very strange--considering she had only read descriptions of such creatures and found it hard to actually visualize them.  Not to mention the rather disheveled and large canid troll.

Finally, she glanced toward the brown-cloaked figure, and only then did she notice something familiar.  Thinking she'd make sure, Aisha rested her face on her palm and her elbow on the bar with a smirk, facing forward.  "Is it just me, or is it a small world?"
  Yap (c) Silverfoxr.
Artist and world-weaver.

Teh_Hobo

He was waiting. Surely his friend would notice him eventually. Then, in a momentary burst of sanity, he remembered that since his friend was a bottle, it couldnt signal even if it did recognize him. As he opened his mouth to mumble something in order to attract the innkeepers attention, something odd happened.
EH??!?! Whassat? Wheresit?
Something was different. It took him a minute to realize what it was. The barrier. His barrier was gone. The mysterious force that kept people away from him had vanished. He looked up. He looked around the area, and sniffed the air. He couldn't find it. He decided to ask the room in general.
"Merh, Hwardit go? An'one seen mah shield? The, the, the thing. Made people g'way. Wheresit?"
One week in air, two weeks in water, two weeks in water, eight weeks in ground.

Boog

#13
The first customer to walk in was a pretty girl, immediately followed by a young man who started hitting on her. Moze smirked to himself. The universe was taking care to let him know that he was old today.
"That we are young lady, and welcome." He slipped into the conversation smoothly, "Sit yourself down, I'll be happy to see to you- oh!" He smiled politely as more customers showed up, "We usually don't get this much business this early, I'll be right with-"
"Relax dad, I got 'em." Another orangutan, a young woman with more than passing resemblance to the proprietor, strolled in from the back room and promptly started setting out the ales ordered and collecting the money for them, winking at the canine in the hood as she passed. "Welcome to the neighborhood, stranger." She dropped a copy of the menu in front of Payden with barely a glance. Teenagers, eh?
The troll, meanwhile, had just made himself known to Moze, briefly raising the man's bushy eyebrows. Well, so long as his money's green... "Yes I do sir, simply sit yourself down and I'll be with you in a moment." He kept one eye on the bum that had wandered in; too much noise like that and he'd probably have to throw him out.

Mel Dragonkitty

Sister Alexandria Montegu took a moment to brush the dust of the road off her robes before entering the only establishment that seemed open here in the outskirts of the city. Luckily the dark blues and grays didn't stain easily. Alex took a last long look at the city as she put her hand to the door of the bar. Cities had libraries and abandoned cities had abandoned libraries where she might find rare volumes to take back to the abbey. As she stepped through the door into the bar she knew that she was being assessed even as she looked over those who had arrived before. She knew that they would see, a female of rather great height for a squirrel although not for many species, a bit older than the average person drawn to adventure, with brilliant red hair that marked her as having a bit of creature in her background. Her robes instantly identified her as a Gutenberg Sister to anyone who had ever visited a free school or library in any of the more impoverished parts of the realm. But unless they had studied the details of her order they wouldn't know her for anything more than a librarian or teacher. Tucking her staff into the crook of her elbow she made her way to the bar. Alex began to ask for water then thought better of it. "Wine please."
My, I'll bet you monsters lead interesting lives. I said to my girlfriend just the other day: "Gee, I'll bet monsters are interesting," I said. The places you must go and the things you must see. My stars! And I'll bet you meet a lot of interesting people, too. I'm always interested in meeting interesting people.

techmaster-glitch

#15
   A lone, armored van with a dome on top rolled down the road, roughly in the direction of the so-called City. It looked like it had seen better days, but also that it had been patched up and "upgraded" a few times. There were no windows on the van at all, and there was only a square metal plate that didn't seem part of the armor on the front of the van.
  Inside, Traxen Ridgrey was hunched over a strapped-down metal-and-electronics spiderlike little beastie on a small worktable in a fairly small space. Though almost done, it was still incomplete, but looked partially eviscerated. Traxen applied little adjustments to the innards with a tool, humming a tune as he did. The van continued down the road, though there was no one else in it.
  Traxen's last job working with an adventuring party had earned him enough supplies to last him a week or two, a little money and materials, and information. It was rumored there was an abandoned City out this way, one that used to attract a high number of adventurers, and from the grapevine, was probably fairly modern. Traxen set his course for there, hoping that he might be able to get some decent salvage for once. Hunting through rare and sparse junkyards for scrap was barely cutting it, and there weren't enough places to buy real materials.
  There was a beep, and a synthesized voice in the van spoke. "Struc-tures-de-tect-ted." Traxen hung his tool and swiveled on the spot on a small chair to face a wall with many monitors and a few keyboards.
  "Thank you, Pamcawv." Traxen said, although it didn't make any real difference whether he responded or not. Most of the monitors were showing the display of many small, protected cameras mounted all over the outside of the van. A few of the displays showed a small town getting closer. The van passed a sign that said Welcome to Oldhill. Traxen noticed, off in the horizon, the City loomed, looking almost slightly darker and more... forboding than its surroundings. Traxen shook off the feeling.
  Most of the buildings Traxen passed were either abandoned or just had their lights turned off. Eventually, a little bar, the "Last Chance" came into view, right on the edge of the town and looking to be the last building until the City itself. The bar had lights on, and a few moving shadows suggested people were inside.
  Typing a few things on the keyboards instead of going all the way to the driver's seat, Traxen directed the van to park on the opposite side of the road. he wanted to take a look, see if there were any Creatures currently occupying the bar. "Pamcawv, activate M.C.D. #4, shunt to deployment launcher, standby to deploy."
  "A-fir-ma-tive".  Inside part of the van, there was a small clicking and whirring as a robotic drone booted up. Traxen then began quickly and effortlessly typing on one of the keyboards, shuffling around the monitor displays until there was a blank screen in front of him. "Deploy."
  "De-ploy-ing."
  A small circular hatch opened up on top of the van, and something shot up out of it. It was the shape and size of a frisbee, but with a jetfan in the center and a few lenses around the edges. The blank monitor now showed a view of the main camera on the drone. Traxen moved slightly to the side, to a strange setup of multiple joysticks, all with buttons and other doodads on them. In one monitor up in the corner of the wall, a map of the area was being rendered in realtime using the van's cameras and various sensors, and by default the drone that was now flying. Until the map was more complete, direct analogue remote was the best way to control the drone, unless he deployed a whole swarm and set them to an automatic sweep.
  Traxen began manipulating the joysick, and the small drone started coasting towards the bar, with a barely-audible whirring. It went around several windows, and Traxen got a good look at most of the patrons.
  Multiple Beings, a tasmanian devil, a leopard, a Nictarl, a kangaroo rat, a black jaguar, and two orangutans who looked to be the owners of the bar; Two humans, one seemingly poverty-stricken and one semi-official looking; an unknown cloaked figure, and one odd-looking Mythos. It was almost like a bad bar joke. The Mythos Traxen made a note of. The flying camera completed a circle around the bar as another patron got ready to enter, a grey squirrel Being with some bright hair, denoting the possibility of Creature ancestry. As she opened the door to enter, Traxen moved the joystick and quickly guided the drone towards the door. It barely made it in with a whizz before the door closed behind the squirrel.
Avatar:AMoS



Cogidubnus

#16
Giles waited for the lady in robes to enter, fumbling with rolling a cigarette while he waited for her to enter. He breathed on one end, the tip flaring red, and then took a breath. The cinder brightened, then smoked, and Giles breathed out a wispy cloud, catching the door behind the librarian and walking inside, ducking so the haft of the spear on his back wouldn't catch the doorframe.

He chose the seat closet to the door, sitting at one end of the bar. The cigarette somehow was half ash already. The barkeep seemed to be taking orders, and he spoke with a mouth full of smoke.
"Demon water, golden." he said, ashing on the floor. He didn't see any ashtrays nearby, and there seemed to be worse than cinders on the floor in some places.

shadowterm

Sam was understandably quite glad to see "The Last Chance" when he walked up the street. I had been a long journey so far, and the amount of food left in his pack was not something to be proud of. He cursed his fast metabolism under his breath as he walked into the bar and took a seat, looking around at the hodgepodge collection of people. "Excuse me!" He exclaimed "Something cold, wet, and will keep me sober, thank you." Sam dropped his pack and took out a sketch pad and music player then started to doodle while tapping his foot to the music.
/)//w//(\

techmaster-glitch

#18
   After the camera drone made it into the bar, Traxen decided he might want sound. He typed a few lines into a keyboard with one hand while the other fetched a headset. With both completed, he turned on the sound, just in time to hear a creaking that can only be attributed to the door the camera had just come through. Traxen turned the drone around, and then yelped and yanked they joystick back as a massive armored human filled the screen, making the camera fly back. He then quickly stabilized it to prevent it from careening into the ceiling.
   Shortly after, a fox also made his way into the bar. Traxen made a note of both (and also how so many people coincidentally seemed to be arriving at very near times), and settled into wafting the camera around the bar. The hovering frisbee floated and whirred over a few people's tables, seemingly to get a closer look at everyone and everything.
Avatar:AMoS



Myr

The troll glanced at the barkeeper, head panning slightly to look at the seats again-despite other things attempting to call his attention away- two of which he could note offhandedly as the human that seemed to be speaking nonsensically to himself and the relatively...interesting black feline. She seemed to be the type he'd have to keep an eye on. "I don't think so," He huffed finally, "Looks weak." Those pale eyes focused briefly on the barkeep again. "I'll take meat; uncooked if you have it." He paused, as if considering something. "Doesn't have to be fresh either." Just a small snack should suffice for now...what's that?

Raek's ears perked as he heard the faint whirring of something making a hasty entry. A bug? He wondered as he turned from the bar itself to look at the patrons more closely...if in a general sense. The different race-names didn't matter much to him, really: With that steadfast, mildly moronic logic of his species other beings tended to be the same; just different appearances and scents...of course they just wouldn't like the typical reference trolls had for other creatures in general as meat. At least he had enough sense not to use that terminology around them, thankfully.

Sad to say, however, he missed the small drone entirely at first. Probably a good thing too right then; he might have squashed it on the assumption it was the largest insect he'd ever seen...especially if he'd linked the sound with it.

Besides, it stood to reason a scent gave one a general idea about someone else...to him, anyway. For example, the feline with the spotted coat gave him the impression of perhaps being unreliable...or perhaps it was that hint of something else that raised distrust. While the panthress hinted at a cold certainty intermingled with something that spoke of strength. Leadership material, perhaps. Interesting things, to be truthful.

Then there was that human in armor. A knight? His eyes narrowed on the man,  his order forgotten. Forget the felines and everything else in the room, this one looked more likely to try and run him through if he did anything wrong...and he couldn't shake that feeling that he'd not be able to recover easily from such an affair either. Got to at least try and be smart...I think. Or was it careful?

Alas, being innately unafraid of death tended to confuse the two concepts when it came to Raek....At least until he finally saw that flying disc.

An invisible eyebrow raised at the sight of the thing as it flitted from one table to the other, that faint whirring he'd noticed earlier coming and going with it's motions. That is the biggest, weirdest bug I've ever seen...is it edible? Great, now he's thinking of potential snacks...
'I've seen monks try and cover their ears when they hear these haunting notes, but they just don't understand that your soul doesn't need ears to hear.' ~Malkithe

'Sanity is a spider clinging to a fluttering thread of web unaware of the fingers reaching for it, catching it, plopping it in my mouth....' ~Myr

techmaster-glitch

#20
   The camera drone whirred around a few people, and then the Mythos fell into view again. The Mythos was watching the drone. Traxen's eyes narrowed as he stared back at the Mythos through the screen.
   "Right. Let's see what you think of technology, Creature...be you friend or foe?" Traxen muttered to himself, as he guided the drone to deliberately float near the Mythos to gauge its reaction.
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Tipod

Payden only gave scrutinizing glances to the newer patrons, along with a quick thought to each. Panthress (Another kid, probably as thickskulled as the others), troll (Keep an eye on him), squirrel (Holy order, probably wants to clean up the city), pesky drones (Accidents waiting to happen), man wearing armor that had to weigh half-again what he did (At least this one isn't a bum), and some shiftless fox (No comment). "What the hell is this, a misfit convention?" Payden groused as he looked over the menu. Something substantial would hit the spot... even meatloaf would be a step up from what he'd been eating on the way there.

"Waitress, could I get a copy of the evening post, if you have it?" Assuming a region this dreadful even received newspapers, let alone any kind of media.
"How is it that I should not worship Him who created me?"
"Indeed, I do not know why."

Mao

Sitting calmly at the table, Mao was surprised to see all of the sudden hustle and bustle for what he had thought would be a quiet respite.  The barkeep and his recently appeared assistant, a daughter apparently, seemed to hustle about quickly seeing to the needs of the other patrons.  He wasn't sure he was even noticed by the young lady.

"Ah well," he thought, "I'm sure she'll finish up with them eventually and I'll be attended to."

He smiled at the thought of a nice pot of tea, Jasmine maybe, if they had it.  Something to eat too perhaps, as he was awfully hungry.  Though it seemed he wasn't the only one, as several others had already ordered food.  He took note of the others calmly without even looking in their direction.   Each of them looked different to his minds eye.  Some had familiar appearances to their glows, others not as much.  Mao decided not to think much of it.  Regardless who or what they were, as long as they weren't trying to harm him or disturb him it wasn't of any importance.  Maybe he'd even find a friend amongst them.  Who knew?

Mel Dragonkitty

As Alex waited for her wine she heard a faint rustling coming from one of her pockets. "As if you'd let me forget," she muttered as she reached into the pocket and withdrew a book which she set on the bar. Smallish, but well made with tooled leather and brass trim it gleamed with the appearance of something well cared for. While the cleric looked for something else in a different pocket the book decided to display a  level of activity not characteristic of your average pile of bound paper. Flipping itself up on edge it "walked" over to the bowl of pretzels and helped itself to a snack.
My, I'll bet you monsters lead interesting lives. I said to my girlfriend just the other day: "Gee, I'll bet monsters are interesting," I said. The places you must go and the things you must see. My stars! And I'll bet you meet a lot of interesting people, too. I'm always interested in meeting interesting people.

SpottedKitty

Andrace Kithara had been bored. The lioness was in between contracts: the "feared band of cutthroats and outlaws" using the Fryup Caverns as their base had folded like wet cardboard only a day after she'd tracked them down. And all she'd done was split their leader down the middle and toss another one off a cliff: the battered survivors had fallen over their tails in their rush to surrender. Wimps, she thought. As for her next job, the Sennen Cove Businessman's Protective Association (yes, there was only one — it was a very exclusive group) wasn't expecting her to arrive until the end of the month. The lack of excitement, or any activity at all, was beginning to get on her nerves. When she heard of this mysterious city, it sounded like just the thing she needed to fill in the time.

The front door of the Last Chance opened once more, and a tall, muscular lioness strode in. She pushed her fiery red hair back over her shoulders, blew a few stray strands out of her face, and walked across the room, her bare pawpads making almost no noise on the floor. She wore a leather jerkin over a silk shirt, and silk trousers that came to a little below her knees, all in various shades of red and black. She grunted quietly as she shrugged the straps of a backpack off her shoulders. A leather baldric across her chest held the scabbard of a long sword across her back, the hilt poking up behind her shoulder, and a large pistol was holstered at her right hip.

Andrace walked up to the bar and sat on a stool with a sigh of relief for her tired paws. She shifted her weight a little and curled her tail comfortably around one leg of the stool. "I'll have a beer, please," she said to the monkey behind the bar, her voice a deep but distinctly feminine bass rumble. She fished some coins out of a pocket concealed behind her belt and pushed them across the bar, then looked curiously at all the others sitting around waiting. Many of them looked like adventurers. Some of them might be friendly. Some of them might be competition.

Some of them might be unfriendly.
ENGLISH: A language that lurks in dark alleys, beats up other languages
and rifles through their pockets for spare vocabulary.


Boog

#25
Moze grimaced, crowded in by the rush of adventurers. "Hey, Jezebel, new folks!" He pointed out Sister Alex, Sam, and Giles to the girl who was already rushing to set out Payden's paper, "And some meat for the big fellow!" The orangutan stopped to think for a moment, "He looks like he'd appreciate something still mooing." The girl, who had been about to make her way over to Mao, grinned apologetically at the rabbit and made her way to set out the drinks and food, stopping at Alex for a minute to give her the wine list. Finally, after stopping to coo over the adorable little book construct for a minute, she made her way over to Mao.
"Sorry about that hon, what can I do for you?"
The innkeeper sighed. Things were mostly being seen to, the initial rush was ebbing a little. He made a mental note of the new woman, an adventurer who rather reminded him of himself in his younger years... And that's when he noticed the drone.
Now, Moze wasn't technology-illiterate. He'd been traveling, he'd been to some highly technologically advanced cities. Unfortunately, he'd hated them. Everything was automatic and went off at the slightest notice, and the place smelled like a dentist's office. Moze didn't like dentists either. Something seemed OFF about people who'd study for years and years to stick their hands into people's mouths. Jerking back to the present, he turned back to the matters at hand. It was probably just some kid's toy.

Myr

Okay, the 'bug' seemed to be as curious about him as he was of it. Granted, more than likely not for the same reasons, but still. Raek's pale, vaguely intelligent-looking eyes focused on it calmly as it came his way. Maybe I'll figure out what kind it is, he thought idly as it hovered near him. To be honest, the lupine troll didn't know much about machines at all.

Wait... His muzzle crinkled into a sort of confused frown as his eyes narrowed at a sudden...if rather delayed, thought. It looks more like one of those things...a plate? Yes, that's it. Then why's it flying? The fellow debated on grabbing it to get an even closer look, that lightly fuzzed tail of his wagging slowly.

Er, well, that had been his intention just before that squirrel set her book on the table. "Huh," He grunted as it started moving...which, near as he knew, was not supposed to be possible. Nor, by even his own slow logic, should it be eating. Oh, joy, time to make a decision. Ask about the book, or grab the plate?...Or was it a bug? Poor guy; too many interesting things suddenly happening at once that he missed the barkeep's quip about a more 'lively' meal for him...not to mention having forgotten his initial line of thought. Well, I could just squash that thing and then ask about the book... he mused, ears quirking slightly.

In fact, that idea appealed enormously for him- a living book was certainly more interesting than having a flat disc/bug hovering in his field of vision. Just how, was the question...Hunger briefly forgotten - a rarity in itself even for him - the troll wolf decided on a course of action.

Eh, how about him deciding to try a rather direct approach? At least that seemed to be what Raek decided to do as he decided to close whatever distance was between it and him while things were being put into some kind of order at the bar. And despite the fact it was rather hard for a troll not to look casual, what happened when he got within a few feet of it depended entirely on a mixture of good fortune and thinking.

Or in the case of said 'bug' how fast it could fly away. Personally, Raek felt that it had a very good possibility of out-maneuvering him.

For anyone that's had experience in fighting a troll, they know that said beast is a lot more agile than it looks. Couple that with a deceptive reach due to their slouched frame things tend to get rather...interesting in melee situations. Other factors apply as well, but not in this case.

So when the mythos felt he was in a suitable range, he immediately attempted to snatch the flying object without even changing expression. Granted, if he caught it there were two distinct possibilities of what would happen next...at least to his way of thinking. One, he'd probably crush it without meaning to and make a mess...or the second option...where it probably was going to get an excellent view of what the interior view of a troll's mouth actually looked like...
'I've seen monks try and cover their ears when they hear these haunting notes, but they just don't understand that your soul doesn't need ears to hear.' ~Malkithe

'Sanity is a spider clinging to a fluttering thread of web unaware of the fingers reaching for it, catching it, plopping it in my mouth....' ~Myr

techmaster-glitch

#27
   Traxen's drones, particularly the flying cameras, were not really designed for agility or speed, they were designed for stability and function. If Traxen issues a command, by typing or joystick, to any of his robots in the field, there is sometimes a fraction of a second delay for the command to register. Hardly significant or noticable most of the time, but the cameras take a command and have to kick of the speed of their main jetfan and the directional stabilizers. Then that extra rotary speed has to be trasferred to the air, finally pushing the camera in a new direction. All of which tooks less than two seconds. However, even if it was instant, the cameras usually just couldn't put out much speed or power. All of this meant that there was no way for the camera to move fast enough to avoid the claw, which was able to snatch the camera near-effortlessly.
   Not that they were meant for direct confrontation anyway.

***

   Traxen watched as the Mythos drew slowly closer to the drone through the camera's display on his monitor. Definitly curious, but so far, no outward agression. However, the sudden lash out of the arm to grab the camera instantly triggered Traxen's reflex, jerking the joystick once more. However, this move was little more than perfunctory, and ultimately futile. Traxen almost immediately wrote off the Crature as completely hostile, but then noticed that the camera was still broadcasting both a stable picture and sound. Of the Creature's face. Traxen realized instantly that the Creature hadn't attacked it, he had only grabbed it. He seemed to just be curious. Traxen also noticed just as quickly that the familiar whirring of the drone's jetfan was absent. One of the creature's nails must have snagged it. Traxen quickly punched out a command on a keyboard, cutting the jetfan motor's power so it doesn't burn itself out.
   Traxen then took his hands off the joystick (no use if the jetfan wasn't active), and waited to see what this curious Mythos would do. However, Traxen aslo typed up one more command in preparation, but didn't actually enter it in quite yet.
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Teh_Hobo

The Hobos eyes were huge as he watched the book skitter around. This normally didn't happen until had had been drinking quite a bit. And only from certain bottles. Something had to be said. First things first though.
"Merh, Barman, con Oi git summat ter drank?"
With that out of the way, he aimed his attention at the squirrel whom had produced the book.
"Erh, Sarster, wassat thing doin movin round? Tha almust ne'er happens. Excep' that one time after Ah drank fer three days. An tha time, tha time, when Ah hit mesself onna head after drinkin eh pint er bearhuggers. An that time with the scumble. 'Appens alot, now I thenk onnit. Ter point es, ter point, es, er well, normally only Oi can see it. Yew can see et, though. You ben drinkin alot as well? Excep', no, tha wouldna make sense, cos Oi aint had a drop in hours."
One week in air, two weeks in water, two weeks in water, eight weeks in ground.

Angel

Although they'd entered the city a while ago, the two teenaged felines didn't enter the Last Chance inn right away. They stood and looked at it, one because he was understandably nervous about this whole damn city, the other because she thought the whole process of getting here had been eerie. She'd never seen the place in person before, but even so, it was uncomfortably familiar to her...

"I still wish Dyixaz had come with us," Mykst muttered, snapping the young lioness out of her trance and back to herself. She gave the housecat a surprisingly warm smile.

"Don't tell me you're already scared, sweetie," Black Magic purred at the boy, her gray eyes sparkling with amusement. Mykst frowned a little, gripping his pearl-topped staff a little tighter and knowing that he wasn't actually angry at her.

"No, Kali, I'm just sore because our middle-aged teacher hasn't joined us in a town that has some sort of treasure that's never been found, but that hundreds of adventurers seem to have already tried for. Oh, and let's not forget how most of these people never made it back alive." He stopped, and his eyes widened as he brought a hand to his mouth nervously, surprised at how much he hadn't meant to say. However, Black Magic seemed pleased by it, and gave him a wide grin.

"See, Mykst? This city's good for you! It's forcing your spine to grow!" she laughed, giving him a quick, tight hug. As she pulled away, he rolled his eyes and smirked just a bit.

"Let's just go in," he sighed, pushing open the door and holding it for Black Magic, who strode in and glanced around once at everyone in the bar before loosening her cloak and gesturing for Mykst to help her find an empty table.
The Real Myth of Sisyphus:
The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water spout,
Down came the rain and washed the spider out.
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain,
And the itsy-bitsy spider went up the spout again...
BANDWAGON JUMP!