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Post by daistallia on Jul 11, 2014 2:14:35 GMT
OOC: This is a general hangout RP. The establishment is run by Colonel Malachi "Uncle Mal" Averys, an old character of mine from over twenty five years ago. There aren't many ground rules. Feel free to use Uncle Mal as an NPC when I'm not here, as long as he's not done grossly out of character. Nobody does. Try to keep the cybering low key enough to avoid running afoul of proboards. The setting is purposely vague.
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Post by Poli on Jul 11, 2014 2:28:39 GMT
Heh, you beat me to creating my steampunk-alehouse hangout RP! Shall I smoosh my half-made ass-kicking corset-wearing Victorian innkeeper into your pub, or let her open up her own?  |
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Post by daistallia on Jul 11, 2014 2:37:35 GMT
Uncle Mal's exist. You may find it in some grimy back alley, on the dusty street of a small town in the Republic of Texas or the Australian Outback, or on that long and lonesome highway. Some find it on the old cobblestone streets of the village beliw the castle keep. Or maybe it's just down the road in your nive suburban neighborhood. The time and location are immaterial.
And while the outside is usually nothing special to look at, Uncle Mal keeps a clean fairly well lit place. There's usually a warm hearth in the winter and a good strong AC in the summer. And the jukebox (does it run on steam?) always seems to have your favorite tuned.
You'll meet all sorts of interesting people here. See the guy at the end of the bar? He just wandered in from the wastelands - on a motorcycle powered by screaming demons. The guy by the jukebox? Always been here. Always.
And Uncle Mal? He's a busy man, sure, but he's got time to listen to your woes. Or to swap stories. Just don't give him trouble. He keeps a big ole shotgun under that bar, and he ain't afraid to use it.
So sit down and order a drink and a meal and relax for a while.
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Post by daistallia on Jul 11, 2014 2:38:31 GMT
Heh, you beat me to creating my steampunk-alehouse hangout RP! Shall I smoosh my half-made ass-kicking corset-wearing Victorian innkeeper into your pub, or let her open up her own? There's room for both.  |
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Post by daistallia on Jul 11, 2014 2:43:35 GMT
OOC: also, note that Uncle Mal's exists in a sort of pocket dimension that's accessible from anywhere. The exterior fits whatever setting, but the interior is vague. It might be a pulp speakeasy or a version of Mel's Dinner.
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Post by dakini on Jul 11, 2014 6:29:28 GMT
ooc: Are we limited to making up human characters to frequent the tavern?
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Post by daistallia on Jul 11, 2014 6:34:23 GMT
OOC: No. You can do that. Or you be yourself. Or a character from one of the RPs. Or a combination.
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Post by dakini on Jul 11, 2014 8:49:44 GMT
The doors burst open and a small fairy flies in. She briefly flits around the room, looking for a table and lands in the centre of a tall table near the bar. She retrieves a small grain of glowing dust from a pocket in her dress and produces a wand seemingly from thin air. She waves her wand at the dust grain, producing a pair of translucent green, levitating disks. The fairy flicks her writs, making her wand disappear then sits on the smaller of the disks. She snaps her fingers---producing a sound much louder than one would think possible from such a small creature---and exclaims "Barkeep! Thimble of gin over here!" as she lightly taps the other disk which is apparently going to serve as her table. {Description of Neráida}You see Neráida.
She is approximately 30 cm tall and appears to be a fairy.
She has pale, almost transparent blue skin and a pair of rounded, shimmering wings. Her long, yellow and green hair stands almost straight up and moves much like a flame, but in slow-motion.
She is wearing a green and flowery dress which appears to be made of leaves, grasses and flowers. |
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Post by daistallia on Jul 11, 2014 15:27:08 GMT
Mal takes the smoldering stub of his cigar out of his mouth. "We ain't got thimbles. Will this do ya?" he asks, holding up an appropriately sized glass.
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Gamerdog
2000+
Benomia/Bezombia from NS
Posts: 2,209 
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Post by Gamerdog on Jul 11, 2014 16:22:17 GMT
The doors float open and a transdimensional omnicolored floating sphere "walks" into the bar.
It cannot speak as it is simply a floating sphere but its voice is heard by all.
"Hᴇʟʟᴏ ᴀʟʟ. I ᴀᴍ Nᴇʀ, ᴀɴᴅ I ɢʀᴀᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴄᴇ. Nᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ, sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ɢᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ʙᴇᴇʀ."
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Post by dakini on Jul 11, 2014 16:37:01 GMT
Neráida sizes up the glass "I suppose that'll have to do." she said, allowing Mal to place the glass of gin on her table-disc.
She attempted to lift the glass without success so she flicked her wrist to make her wand appear again and whispered a short incantation while waving the wand at herself. She suddenly appeared stronger. With another flick of her wrist, her wand disappeared.
"Cheers." she said as she raised her glass to the room and sipped the tiniest sip of gin.
She smiled and sighed, looking considerably more relaxed. "I really needed that, you know."
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SCIENCE
5000+
Baaaad to the bone!
Heaven is other people.
Posts: 5,744
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Post by SCIENCE on Jul 11, 2014 16:37:23 GMT
TBD walks into a bar with a me on a leash (  ). A scraggly old drunk staggers over, takes one look, and says, Jeeeez, that's the UGLIEST thing I ever saw! TBD turns her nose up at him and says, This happens to be a stately creature! Go away, you horrid man! The old drunk yells, Lady, I was talkin' to the sheep! |
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Post by The Beautiful Darkness on Jul 11, 2014 22:14:30 GMT
OOC: I'm not sure I'm ok with being someone else's RP character.
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SCIENCE
5000+
Baaaad to the bone!
Heaven is other people.
Posts: 5,744
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Post by SCIENCE on Jul 11, 2014 22:25:11 GMT
OOC: I'm not sure I'm ok with being someone else's RP character. OOC: Don't worry, I was just making a joke. I won't RP you. |
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Post by The Beautiful Darkness on Jul 11, 2014 22:27:50 GMT
OOC: Maybe I have poor taste, but I don't really find being called ugly amusing.
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Post by daistallia on Jul 12, 2014 0:14:23 GMT
OOC: No problem TBD. I'm putting the magic ignore cloak over that post.
And I'll make one more explicit ground rule that I thought should have been implicit from TBC rules: play nice with each other. That covers playing as anyone else here on the forum w/o permission and "godmoding" someone else's character. And let's try to remember that IC isn't OOC - actions towards and comments to or about your character aren't directed at you. If you play yourself or give permission for someone else to play you - and note that TBC gave no such permission - don't get upset if "you" the character gets insulted or whatever.
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Post by daistallia on Jul 12, 2014 0:24:56 GMT
Mal glances at the sphere. "Having a bit of trouble with the universal translator tonight I guess. I didn't catch that."
He turns back to Neráida. "Can I get 'ya anything else? "
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Post by maurepas on Jul 12, 2014 2:37:21 GMT
A large Trollkin Bounty Hunter and Man-at-Arms stumbles into the bar wearing full plate armor, his blue skin peaking out of the cracks between the plates, axe and war-hammer strapped to his sides. Pulling up a chair and table he pulls his helmet off, revealing the large head covered with quills(his being red), and over-prominent jaw covered with a beard-like cropping of rocky outgrowths that are common to his species.
"Oi! Barkeep! An Ale if you please!"
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Post by muravyets on Jul 12, 2014 2:57:05 GMT
Immediately after that, the door of Mal’s opens again and a tall, skinny man in tweeds stumbles in. He hadn’t seen any fairies, orbs, or giant knob-headed warriors going in ahead of him, but he certainly does see them when he looks up upon entering.
“Geez,” he mutters under his breath. He takes a seat at the bar, dropping his battered canvas shoulder-bag on the floor with a thud, but keeping the strap looped over his knee. He signals to the bartender.
“Boilermaker,” he says. At the same time, he takes a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his blazer and wiggles it at the bartender with a questioning look.
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Post by daistallia on Jul 12, 2014 3:40:41 GMT
Mal looks at the sphere again, warily. Then back to the fairy. "Okay lemme take care'a the big guy here. If ya need anything, lemme know."
He turns to the trollkin and man at arms. "Two ales commin' up. And just so's ya know, there ain't no huntin' in this joint."
As he draws the ales, he watches the latest customer, smiles at the confusion, and says to him "hold on, ill be with ya in a sec."
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Post by muravyets on Jul 12, 2014 3:47:47 GMT
The thin man waves as if to say "No problem." After a pause during which a tremendous though brief debate about ethics and social niceties played out silently in his head and ended with the conclusion that it's easier to get forgiveness than permission, he shakes a cig from the pack and lights up with an old Zippo.
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Post by muravyets on Jul 12, 2014 3:48:34 GMT
OOC: Man, I hate writing in present tense.
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Post by Poli on Jul 12, 2014 3:56:28 GMT
A young woman walks out of a back room, looking tired and frustrated. She pulls a pocket watch - well, it LOOKS like a pocket watch, anyway, albeit rather a large one - from one of the numerous pouches around her waist, studies it for a moment, and sighs. "Calibrated wrong again..." She looks around the bar, eying the odd assortment of patrons, and then shrugs and unties the large green ribbon around her neck to remove her hat. "Close enough for now." She turns to the bartender. "Scotch, if you please. Neat."
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Post by maurepas on Jul 12, 2014 4:40:05 GMT
The Trollkin smirked, "Nah, I don't generally drink an' hunt," he replied, "Two-fer, eh?" The Bounty Hunter then reached into a pouch hanging from his armor and pulled out a fat cigar, "Don't mind if I smoke do ya?" and proceeded to light up and take a drag. As he let out a cloud of smoke he lifted the mug up and took a swig, "Good stuff," he said to anyone who was listening.
(OOC: Bounty Hunter and Man-at-Arms were his professions, I probably should've clarified that better. This is actually an Iron Kingdoms character I run in our local DnD group, lol)
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Post by dakini on Jul 12, 2014 5:27:10 GMT
Neráida continues to sip her gin and as she does, the yellow in her hair begins to disappear and her hair takes on a bluer hue.
"You know, I am getting a bit peckish." she begins "Do you happen to have any mushrooms? The more colourful, the better."
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Gamerdog
2000+
Benomia/Bezombia from NS
Posts: 2,209
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Post by Gamerdog on Jul 12, 2014 12:46:35 GMT
Mal glances at the sphere. "Having a bit of trouble with the universal translator tonight I guess. I didn't catch that." Visually, the sphere did nothing except float there without moving. But, once again, Ner's voice was heard by all in the room. "Nᴏ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ, Nᴇʀ ɪs ᴀ ᴘᴀᴛɪᴇɴᴛ ᴏɴᴇ. I sᴀɪᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ I ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ʙᴇᴇʀ." |
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Post by muravyets on Jul 12, 2014 18:47:06 GMT
The wait for his drink isn't too long, though the place seems to be filling up. The thin man smiles as the pint of ale and its sidekick shot of whiskey are placed before him. Without a moment's pause, he drinks off about an inch of the ale, followed by a small sip of whiskey. Then, carefully centering the shot glass over the beer, he drops it into the pint glass, making a soft explosion noise with his lips.
"Depth charge away," he murmurs. He takes a long draft of the cocktail and sets it down with a deep sigh. "Oh, yeah, that's what I'm talking about."
Refreshed, he sticks the cigarette between his lips and hauls up his bag to commence rummaging through it. He pulls out battered notebooks, loose pens, breath mints, crumpled currency bills of various denominations. Amongst other papers and objects, the spine of an ancient tome and a laptop computer can be glimpsed in the bag, but he doesn't take them out. He leafs rapidly through a small brown notebook, absorbed in searching for something.
OOC: Since Daistallia gives permission to use Uncle Mal as an NPC, I'm assuming my guy's drink gets served.
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Post by daistallia on Jul 12, 2014 23:54:09 GMT
The wait for his drink isn't too long, though the place seems to be filling up. The thin man smiles as the pint of ale and its sidekick shot of whiskey are placed before him. Without a moment's pause, he drinks off about an inch of the ale, followed by a small sip of whiskey. Then, carefully centering the shot glass over the beer, he drops it into the pint glass, making a soft explosion noise with his lips. "Depth charge away," he murmurs. He takes a long draft of the cocktail and sets it down with a deep sigh. "Oh, yeah, that's what I'm talking about." Refreshed, he sticks the cigarette between his lips and hauls up his bag to commence rummaging through it. He pulls out battered notebooks, loose pens, breath mints, crumpled currency bills of various denominations. Amongst other papers and objects, the spine of an ancient tome and a laptop computer can be glimpsed in the bag, but he doesn't take them out. He leafs rapidly through a small brown notebook, absorbed in searching for something. OOC: Since Daistallia gives permission to use Uncle Mal as an NPC, I'm assuming my guy's drink gets served. OOC: Yes, that was the idea - if I'm not posting for whatever reason, feel free, as long as it's within established character. |
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Post by dakini on Jul 13, 2014 5:32:55 GMT
Neráida hiccups and glances at the thin man.
"Need a light?" she inquires before shaping her hand like a gun with her index finger extended and her thumb up. She points at him and exclaims "Pew pew!" shooting a small spark out of her finger to the end of his cigarette, lighting it.
She hiccups again. "Barkeep, my glass seems to have emptied itself. This is a situation that should be remedied."
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Post by muravyets on Jul 13, 2014 6:49:49 GMT
"GAH!" The thin man leaped back and nearly crashed to the floor in a jumble of limbs, elbows, and knees as the spark burst before his face. The barstool did crash loudly to the floor. "What the hell?" he shouted. "Who threw that?" His eyes fell upon the giggling fairy, glowing faintly blue-ish-ly and seeming rather pleased with herself. If he was at all either surprised or inspired to inappropriate humor by the sight of a fairy in a bar, he didn't think to show it at the moment. "Hey, Tinkerbell, what's your issue? Are your eyes so tiny you can't even see out of them? That cigarette was already lit! Why, I oughta--" He picked up the somewhat oddly scorched cigarette from where it had fallen and stuck it back in his mouth, took up his drink, and went over to where the fairy sat at her little floating table and chair hovering above the bar. "Say, sister," he said, leaning on the bar and bringing his head close to hers and dropping his voice to a more conversational if still irritated tone, "didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with fire? You almost took my nose off." OOC: Yeah, I'm giving up on present tense. {Description of the thin man}
Name: John Brendan Fahy. Goes by: Jack.
Height: 6' 5"
Body: Lovechild of a stork and a bean pole
Hair: Dark brown, short
Eyes: Blue
Attire: Low-budget college professor type
Voice: Piercing. >.0 |
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). A scraggly old drunk staggers over, takes one look, and says, Jeeeez, that's the UGLIEST thing I ever saw! TBD turns her nose up at him and says, This happens to be a stately creature! Go away, you horrid man! The old drunk yells, Lady, I was talkin' to the sheep!
