Moonlit Pub.

Subject: Moonlit Pub. Fri Jul 22, 2011 5:45 pm

The Pub is half on the street, and half in the woods. The front of the Pub faced the street, which was rarely ever traveled, especially at night. Flickering streetlights lined the road, along with abandoned houses. The back of the Pub faced the woods, which were rarely ever explored by the humans. The pub stood feet from the treeline, which was thick and had a small break in it for the worn, dirt path that led to the Pub. The Pub itself was made out of stone, fairly large and two stories tall. The inside of the Pub seemed warm and welcoming, which it could be at times. The floor was wooden, walls stone. Wooden tables and mix-matched chairs positioned around the place, rows of booths lining the far walls of the pub. A big, large, wide hearth stood in the back of the Pub, made of stone. Logs were in it, lit, a bright fire glowing. The shelf of the hearth was covered with odds and ends. Framed pictures of the regulars, a piece of jewelry or a rare stone left by a traveler who had once visited the place. On the floor infront of the Hearth was a worn throw rug, a couch position close by it. The bar itself was wooden and lined with barstools. Behind the Bar were shelves lined with alcohol, and a door leading to the kitchen. There was a hallway off to the side of the bar, which led to the bathrooms and upstairs, where there were rooms for travelers to stay in if needed.

Subject: Re: Moonlit Pub. Fri Jul 22, 2011 5:55 pm

A slight breeze carried the scent of Vanilla into the Pub's inhabitants' noses. A small creak could be heard as a tall woman walked in. She stood at about 5'7''. Her yellow sundress swished as she moved. It hugged her hour glass frame perfectly and that is why she loved it. Nev pushed her long dark curls back and a flash of silver would catch anyone's eye. The silver was a small bracelet crafted of the elves that rested against her wrist. Her name along with the sun symbol was engraved on it in their language. Nev's barefeet thudded softly on the Pub's wooden floor. The thudding would cease as she reached a barstool. In a blink, Nev was seated in a chair and had begun to spin it casually. Her green irises were mixed with excitement and curiousity as they gazed around the pub. "Hello everyone!" She said. Her melodious words reaching ears of all. She flashed a small smile, revealing deep dimples in each of her sunkissed cheeks.

Posts : 2 Join date : 2011-07-20 Age : 36 Location : Dallas

The doors of the Pub opened, and the male, Nolan, stepped through, that same sly grin on his face, as always. He waved to everyone in the room and gave a slight convo, "How ya' doin'?" He continued to his seat, the one 3 seats from the end on the right, where the vodka was located. He sat his butt on the seat, wearing gray slacks, a trenchcoat, with a white shirt underneath, and sunglasses, the kind you see those cool guys wear on the Matrix. He span around in his seat until it came to a stop in front of the counter. "This is fun!" was his verbal action to this.

Subject: Re: Moonlit Pub. Fri Jul 22, 2011 6:09 pm

-The streetlights which burst on fail to light the path halfway for the figure which been walking. Shadows dance to the faded music in the background finding themselves caught at bay. Silence echo into the night except for the ravens which flew over head crying out the names of his final kill. The figure has been traveling for somewhat a long time in search for the pub from which he had hear so much of. Smoke found a rhythm to each tap of the staff which the figure has been carrying. Frost seem to kiss the very foundations of the sidewalk beneath the figures bare feet. As moments had pass, the figure finally reach that of the pub letting a simple sigh escape. The building look tall within the dark giving a sense of more room. Moving to the side of the pub, the figure removed the cloak that was wore and shifted in the dark vanishing. In the figure place stood a white raven. The staff which the figure had been carrying vanished after something had been said in a low voice- -c-

-The window which was upon the left slowly blew open letting the white raven enter. The beautiful bird land upon the table away from the crowd tilting it’s head to the right before a cloud of smoke appeared. Silence made a overbearing noise as the bird vanished replacing it with a young male. His image had appear as such. A male about 5.8 with skin pale as a peach. His body gave a angelic glow as his light blue eyes shift under his red-hair. He wore no shirt reviling the tattoo of a white raven upon his back just near the visible slits. above the tattoo was a name which read :’Kopaki.’ It was greek for the raven. Although the male was no greek, he took pride in his name. The slits upon his back was where his whitish black wings descend from as the male wore no shoes. Not finding use to them anyway- -c-

-Upon the males back he held a blade known as Crowbar. The blade had fine steel which had became unbreakable. It also had weird writing upon it which had made it a strong one. The handle was made of raven wings bind by the the tears of a mortal in the desert of Kurjs. Seven black dagger lay in a special made sheath seeing how the daggers held a poison only the Kopaki had the cure to. In the males right hand he held the white staff that had be covered in blue sapphire. As the light had hit on them just right, a image of people the male knew in his life would play like a movie. This had brought comfort to him in the time of his depression and anger. He found it a bore now meaning to change it after all these years- -c-

-The male placing his staff in front of him looking to the crowd with a slight smirk hating those he did not know or care for. He would lean against his staff placing half of all his weight upon it letting his smirk fall from his face to a stern look. His emotion rest between anger and the need of calm. Orben found it silly that he had let himself to have such a emotion as calm. He pity those who had wish for it. For who’s who worship it. Remaining leaning against his staff, the male push his red hair from his eyes watching the crowd in silence knowing that today was as if any other- -e-

Subject: Re: Moonlit Pub. Mon Jul 25, 2011 9:39 pm

The eerie and irritating nose of chains scraping against gravel and cement screeched throughout the night. The icy and cold whisper of words seeped from the lips of an unknown immortal :
You made a puppet out of me, your waiting, mindless fool.
Are you laughing where you are, laughing at me in my state?
How can a heart once so warm turn to ice and leave me to this fate?
What burdens had you to bear in your life, you’re spoiled with your possessions.
Now I hope it tears a hole where your heart once lay to hear my many confessions.
I’ve loved you completely for as long as I can remember.
Now this love I once felt for you is down to it’s last ember.
I just can’t do it anymore, move where the strings make me +C+

- Quick as a whip two chains flashed from the night hooking onto branches of seperate trees. The chains then tightened themselves almost as if dragging someone along, then seeming to drag in from the shadows a slim and short figure emerged. The females head was hung low using her bright blue hair to shield her scarred face. The female slowly began lifting her head slowly upwards. +c+

Her lips moved quickly and silently, yet the words that emerged from her black lips were softer then whispers and so quiet no mortal or immortal could hear. The words seemed to disapear and her whispering slowed until it came to an abrupt hault. Quickly she teeterd forwards rolling onto the balls of her feet, her knees bent bringing her too a low crouch. A hiss seeped from her lips as she brought her arms in, bringing her head down again she pulled her arms in tighter. The chains from the trees seemed to unwind and come barreling towards her, quickly the female stood and brought her left around around her body so the chain rapped around her upper body area. Using her right arm she quickly circled the chain around her arm perfectly, she grabbing the tip between fingers and held it there tightly. +c+

The girl stood to her complete 4'8 height and began bringing her head up slowly once again. Her blue hair tumbled around her face like a bright and colorful waterfall, but this puppet was not anything close to kind. The area near her heart was frozen like ice. The females name was Saskia which stood for 'one who carries a knife' and that is exactly what she did. Underneath the chains and the clothing of a ripped red dress was a knife that never left the area between her breasts. It was made up pure silver hand made by drows on one of her many journies, written against the side of the knife was the word "Saskia". The female began began dragging herself forwards, her bright yellow hues stared dazed like at the pub door, her eyelids lowered slightly so her eyelashes drooped infront of her eyes ; She glared slightly noticing the patrons of the pub inside. +C+

Finally reaching her destination Saskia reached forward with a cold as ice and pale hand, she grasped the handle and jerked it sideways watching as the pub door creaked open, many eyes stared into hers in disbelief. Not many cold hearted puppets were seen walking around so she was rare, Saskia stared straight ahead with her dazed eyes. Not even remebering dragging herself over to a table, Saskia sat down quietly with the clatter of chains and hearing the cracks from her icy cold skin as it moved in an unwanted position +E+

Subject: Re: Moonlit Pub. Wed Jul 27, 2011 12:34 pm

As Artem made his way through the forest outside of the pub, he slipped his way silently through the weeping tendrils of the willows, whose branches hung down like the arms of the dead, as if the bodies were suspended just in the branches. The reached out like claws, shifting slightly in the wind as they tried to grasp at Artem, wanting him to return to the inky black depths of the shadows. They wanted him to return, the creaking and groaning of the trees in the stillness sounding like the souls of the damned, the souls of those constantly in pain in the black abyss of the Inferno. He made his way resolutely, but still did not dare touch the trees, for some reason entirely his own as the grass parted under foot, making little more then a sound that a mouse would have. The green blades accepted Artem to step, and they leaned to the side as if passing company on a bus or train.

Artem moved with a slow, fluid determination as the pub came into his sight, the warm and yellow glow radiating from the window and alighting in Artem's calm electric blue eyes, the bright and brilliant blue iris' that were streaked with crackling yellow, as if there were lightning in his very eyes. As he slipped from the tendrils of the willows, his serpentine movements became more bold as he slipped around the side, sticking to shadows as inky black as the black mist that seemed to coalesce and silently whisper around his body in an ever moving and shifting swirl. His golden hair glowed softly in the moonlight, casting a shimmering halo of the soft tones of the waning moon to clash and mingle with the gold like a tidal wave hitting the rockface.

His hand reached forward and touched the waist-height brass knob upon the door, and it gave way under no pressure, but merely by Artem's touch and will. The door swung open slowly and silently as the black mist roiled through the opening of the door, like a flash mob trying to escape from a burning and fiery blaze that was about to engulf them within seconds. Artem slipped in, and he was quite easier to see in the light that now bathed the broze flesh upon his lithe, smaller frame.

His cold, emotionless eyes gazed around the pub, looking at the interior design, the knick knacks, and the inhabitants. But his eyes only alighted upon each thing like a hummingbird upon a flower, seeming to only take in the sights and making complete analizations about each thing and person. His gaze only stopped upon one thing, and that was the chiller behind the bar, ice racks magically enchanted to always keep a certain area chillier then the rest of the area around it. Aside from the bottled lager that sat upon those racks, they were one of the best things Artem would have seen come from the north, and he was glad.

His vest was as black as his soul, as black as the darkened souls deep within the abyss, trimmed around the neck with a collar of long and soft wolf fur that was just as black as the vest. The neckline dipped in a deep V-cut, plateauing inward once then meeting down just above the navel. Only a single gem shined upon him, and that was the large, six inch gem that was inlaid into a silver plating that clasped the vest closed at his chest. The gem shined yes, but it more flickered, with maroon, black, gold, and orange, as if alit on the inside with a fire. Strapped upon his left shoulder, was a leafed pauldron that was darkened and scorched from a fire, the marks black and dull, a complete contrast to the shining silver of the metal.

His right shoulder, however, was bare and bronzed from sunlight, and upon the knot of muscle of his shoulder was a tattoo. A black flame followed the contours of the tight muscle under the skin, lashing out cold and sharp in some type of tribal style, that even continued into under the vest. But along the widest part across the shoulder, overlaying the black flame, was the silhouette of a dragon's head, colored in maroon with eyes as blue as Artem's. It was his Clan Mark, the proof he was a much experianced warrior, and the highest form of respect among those not even of the same birth as the clan.

Upon his left forearm was a platinum bracer, with an elbow guard. Manacled to him, stuck to the bracer was the black, iridescent tow chain that wound it's way up the bracer and hooked over the back of the elbow guard. From there the chain swept downward, allowing enough room for Artem to move freely and completely, but the chain was still out of his way. The chain was connected to a ring, six inches in diameter, that also had five other chains, with a larger set of kunai attached to the chains. Letters carved into the handles of the kunai, gave it the name HYDRA, and that was the best name to describe it. Clasped into the back of Artem's waistbelt, the hanging chain snaked and flowed with her master, yet so very differently. While Artem merely imitated the movement of the snake, HYDRA seemed to be purely serpentine, and completely evil at that with the shine of the black chain.

Twin hanging hipbelts held a myriad of things, from sheathed daggers, to a pouch or two that contained some other items Artem would need. They hung over trousers as black as a moonless night, which tucked into the dapper black shin and knee plates that protected him. His boots were also covered in leafed plating, but the metal, like every other chunk of metal on him, were of some unknown magical origin, and forged in the Black Flame, by Artem's own hands. They were lighter, stronger, and had natural enhancements upon Artem's agility and strength. Of course being an elven half-breed was enough for most enemies.

He made his way over to the iced lager, plucking a bottle from the iced over shelving and covering the top with his mouth as he clentched down upon the metal lid with his teeth. He twisted and pulled the bottle down, a sucking pop sounding as the vaccum seal broke and let air rushing into the top of the open bottle. Artem looked to his right, his youthful, pointed features unmarred by the world and war, yet. Taking a big inhale of air through his nose, he spit the cap across the room, watching it spin like a frisbee into the trash can on the other side of the room. He smirked as he made his way to a darker corner, taking a long draught off of the bottle he slipped into a chair and watched the room from behind blue eyes.

Subject: Re: Moonlit Pub. Wed Jul 27, 2011 9:30 pm

Night was coming, the setting sun casting a bright, orange-yellow glow throughout the forest as it creeped it's way across the sky, it's light seeping through holes in the leaves and parting branches of Oak trees, Weeping Willows, and the other trees which populated the forest. Animals, rabbits and mice, still skittered about on the floor, causing the foliage to crunch and shift below their feet, they were trying to reach their little homes before the darkness casted across the land and the night creatures began venturing out. An eerie silence had settled upon the forest, the little sun that was left had just been overcome, swallowed by the darkness. The night had come. A slight wind had picked up, making a soft howling noise, causing few brittle leaves to break away from their branches and fall gracefully to the forest floor, floating in the breeze.

Quick as a whip, a hand flashed out of the darkness and snagged a falling leaf, a fist closing around it.The hand was pale and it's fingers were long, the nails coated in a blood red polish. A gold band was worn on the girl's middle finger, with a small, violet colored type gem settled in the middle of it. The fist clenched, the brittle leaf being crushed, broken. The girl opened her hand and let the leave fall to the ground, now in many pieces, a smirk playing upon her red lips.The darkness was too strong for a person to see any of her distinct features, but it could be seen that she was extremely pale. Her eyes were a piercing gold, thin slivers of violet in them. Her right arm had reached out infront of herself, pushing and shoving forest debris away from her path.

The wind had grown stronger, causing her honey blonde ringlets to whip around, brushing against her pale face. But she had kept on walking, the wind not seeming to bother her. Those Violet and Gold eyes seemed to flicker, then slant. Her eyes locked dead ahead of herself. The sound of a thrumming car engine could be heard, the radio inside of it blaring music, heavy with vulgarity, it was close, and the girl snickered. The girl, Vasilissa, was getting close to her destination: The Moonlit Pub. Her last visit had been many months before, and she was now back. She had went in search for her birth mother's captors, her families murderers. She had went to seek revenge, to avenge her mother's kidnapping and her families slaughtering.

Vas had found leads, many pertaining to her Vampire father, who was murdered the day she was conceived, many decades before. She had been told that he was murdered for being with her mother, a Shape Shifter, some would say, one that could shift into another animal. Her mother's family weren't so keen on the fact that one of their own were mating with a Vampire. A half Vampire, half Shape Shifter was considered Voodoo to them, a scandal. Something had to be done, so they killed him. Her mother's family thought Vasilissa would bring death and destruction to their family, but after Vas had been born, she was oddly accepted into her mother's family, cherished, almost. The name of Vasilissa had the meaning of "Queen." Her mother's family had grown to think she would be a blessing upon them, but ah, that was not the case. All the girl had brung death and destruction. At the age of 14, her family had been attacked, by other Shape Shifters, she supposed.

They burnt down their home in the woods, slaughtered them all, all except her, and her mother. Vas had returned back to the camp from the creek, seeing flames and burning trees, amputated body parts of her family strewn apart the ground. She remembered that day clearly. The inhaling of smoke, the cracking of wood as the fire burned down their cabin. The day after the slaughtering, she began her search. She had never found her mother's remains so she figured that she had been kidnapped by the ones who had ransacked their camp. She wasn't sure why the were attacked, but she believed she knew of the reason. Her. What she was was a disgrace to the Shape Shifter race, and brung a bad name upon them. But with her search she had no luck, so she was back in town. She was nearing the treeline of the woods, past that was a road, lined with abandoned houses. It was rare for one to be traveling this path late at night,.. Or was it?

With ease, she slid to the right and under the canopy of a weeping willow, hiding behind the trunk of it. She tensed. Her eyes slanted, her body pressed against the back of the tree. She had inherited abilities from both of her parents. She grew, like mortals, all the way untill her 20th year. At that age, she became frozen that way. Immortal, like her father. She had inherited the ability to shift into several different animals, but not all, not yet. A field mouse, deer, cat, snake, were ones she normally shifted into with ease. From her father, she inherited hightened senses. Hearing, Smell, Strength and Speed. And also, the need for blood. It wasn't as great of a need as normal, full-fledged Vampires, but the craving was there. Vas kept quiet, lips in a straight line as she listened as the car drove past, snickering as she heard the radio shaking the frame of the car. She started to shake slightly with anticipation. She wanted to get to the Pub, without being seen by any stray mortals. She wasn't in the mood for games, not yet, anyways. Her lips parted and let out a breath, hearing the car pass and the noise fade into the distance, leaving her with the quietness once again.

The girl's form slinked out from the under the canopy, and out of the treeline. She found herself on the sidewalk, under the flickering light of a street pole. With the light, her features could be seen slightly better. Blonde mused hair, skin tight blank jeans on her thin, long legs, what seemed as though to be a black leather jacket covering her torso.Those orbs had widened, eyes locking onto what was right down the sidewalk from her: The Moonlit Pub. She instantly felt the lure to be in there, sipping alcohol, raising trouble. Everything. She began to run. Her long, thin legs moved at at fast pace, which would have not even be seen by the human eye. Before she even knew it, she was at the Pub, standing right before it's wooden door on the balls of her feet. Her right hand came out and grasped the brass doorknob, fingers wrapping around it and giving it a turn, gently pushing it open.

The push wasn't needed, though. At the same exact time a sudden gust of wind burst through, slamming the door back against the wall. It had made so much noise that it even made her flinch. She was trying to stay un-noticed, and this wasn't the best start. She cursed silently, grasping the handle of the door and shutting it, quietly this time. She faced the rest of the Pub, her Violet and Gold hues dancing across it, examining and sizing up the patrons, taking notice to the things she had remembered from her past visits. Nothing had changed, so it seemed. She sucked in a sharp breath, her cheek bones seeming sharper than before. Her slender brows were perked, looking for an uncrowded place to sit.

Finding a booth off the the side wall, she began walking, her combat boot cladded feet making a soft thudding noise as she did so. Her walk was graceful, yet not rushed. She had a sense of arrogance in the way she held herself. Upon the woman's back, were two Katana swords, strapped criss-cross. Strapped to her upper right thigh was a dagger. The handle was black and the blade was curved, purposefully. The name "Ivanova" was engraved into the surface of it, in gold. Ivanova was her last name, her father's last name. Reaching the booth, she removed her Katanas and rested them onto the chair beside her, peeling off her jacket. Underneath of the jacket was a sort of tank-top. Gold, yet made of silk and flowed over her torso, instead of clinging to it. She turned her head from side to side, cracking it as she slid into the booth. She would get a drink, but she had to think afew things over first.

Subject: Re: Moonlit Pub. Fri Nov 18, 2011 3:55 am

Khaos strides through the desert, the sepia landscape stretching out before him to towers of natural stone, over low-lying buttes and colossal mountains. All about the male figure, cacti and desert shrubs dot the landscape, carpeting the landscape in hues of brown and grey, the life leeched from them by the harsh clime of the wasteland. Khaos continues on his trail, earthtoned gravel crunching beneath his land-eating step. His gait lead him across miles of the barren terrain, never stopping, never ceasing to move. Natural wildlife shied away from the unnatural being, as he made his way to the hovel he called home. Finding the familiar corridor between to large steppes, he follows the channel between stone walls, carved by years of floodwater pouring down from above. At the end of the pass, there lies a single wooden door. Wrought with iron interlaced with the elder wood, seeming to be the one constant in the wilderness.

He enters through the door in the bedrock, which opens to reveal his cavernous home. Built and terraced inside the mountain, the veritable natural mansion contained many different chambers, all built with purpose. The largest belonged to what became known as The Vault, where Khaos kept his possessions. As a dragonkin, he had followed the natural urge to collect things of value, and as such had amassed a gargantuan wealth of not only gold and jewels, but of knowledge as well. This was mainly put towards Khaos' magical abilities, and though he focused on the elements of fire and electricity, he was well versed in his other metaphysical pursuits. He set about gathering supplies upon entering, the door behind him closing seamlessly and vanishing from sight, for it was enchanted with a glaumor of Khaos' own creation, as well as a magical lock to keep anyone able to see past from entering. The items he gathered are set on a table and he begins preparing the rift that will take him to his ultimate destination.

Khaos stands in the center of the magical circle he had inscribed upon the floor, surrounded by runes of magical significance. The sigils began to glow under his incantation, each one taking on an individual hue. They grew brighter as he spoke, the light becoming visible beams in every color, the shimmer of the air slipping along the air like light reflected on a pond. As the energy builds it grows even brighter, multicolor coalescing into a final, bright light. The voice of Khaos chants louder, rebounding off the cavern walls, filling the are with it's ultimate power. The luminescent sphere that had surrounded the male pulsed once, twice, thrice and in a scorching flash, had vanished along with the mage.

A low, soft rumble would be noticable if one were to be paying attention to their surroundings. This rumble would manifest in the form of a blazing fireball, a gateway to the plains of fire. The inferno would be gone in a second, the heat wave conjured vanishing as it pulsed through the area. There would stand a male, seeming to be about the age of 25. His copper hair cascaded about his face, trimming a slightly wavy line down to his collar bone. His face was fair, with high cheeks and a chiseled chin. Eyes a deep green like the sodden moss of a forest's riverbank appeared cheerful with a slightly mischievous glint. A sparse beard and mustache in the same color of his hair thinly veiled his face. He held his head high, giving him a slightly regal air.

His demeanor was rather pleasant, seaming to be at ease with his surroundings. His regal stance would display his slightly prominant Adam's apple, his lightly tanned skin slipping down under his collar. The man stands at 6 foot 7 inches tall, weighing in the range of 200 pounds The male is clad in a sort of dragonhide armor that seems to blend perfectly with the robes he wore underneath, tailored for ample movement. This particular suit was lighter than most would expect, the full plate resting on his body as if it were simply a veil of air.

The armor was fastened together by a system of buckles and belts, rivets and rings. He had hung several potions in flasks from these straps, each vial’s contents a variety of acids, contact poisons, and potions. Around his waist hung a belt, tightened over his armor. Across his chest was a thin metal chain with a pearlescent gleam to it, which clasped together the sides of his robes. Seeming to almost be part of the armor itself, two draconic wings found themselves rooted in his back. These sable wings reflected the dragon's blood that coursed through his veins, marking him as a dragonkin.

This ancient blood bestowed upon him the powers of magic, and in this ability, Khaos had taken a keen interest in pyromancy. His spells of fire were devastating, though he did not lack in ability as far as the rest of his power. He had a mastery over the elements, able to conjure their power and shape them to his needs. He also boasted the ability to shape raw energy, manifesting it as a sort of force. His ancient blood also gave him the breath weapon of his ancestors, the dragonfire of Great Wyrms. Throughout the centuries of his existance, Khaos had delved in the art of blood. His studies led him to a power known as bloodwalking. He could seamlessly enter the body of any creature that contained blood, and exit another similar creature, regardless of distance or barriers, be them natural or metaphysical. As would seem obvious, his dragon wings gave him the ability to fly.