Quote Originally Posted by Rebonack View Post
AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT!

A swirling pixelated portal spirals open in the ceiling! But instead of klaxons blaring and bright flashy lights flashing and some weird inexplicable encounter being disgorged through the rift a recliner chair is spat out.

With a very surprised looking young man sitting on top of it.

Clad in modern attire, a green jacket, khaki pants, unremarkable shoes, and a cheap fedora. On the tall side of things, though not overly so. A mess of brown hair sticks out from under his hat here and there. He looks just a weeeee bit out of place. WAY too normal.

Give him about a week before the Nexus blargs strange all over him.

He glances around the tavern.

"Okay, let's see. A goblin. A robot. Some... kind of Lovecraft-style monster?"

Zee waves at him cheerfully.

"Animal person. 'nother animal person. Surly dwarves. Space marine. Knight in shining armor. Sapient talking winged pickle. ...is that a flumph?"

He blinks, takes off his hat, and scratches at his head a bit.

"Welp. Whatever meds they have me on right now must be pretty amazing."
Through a nearby, garage-sized door of convenient flimsiness, a hot pink Cadillac hurtles, crashing into Trog's with wild abandon before skidding to a halt in front of the bar, leaving the nearby patrons (inexplicably) completely unharmed.

From the driver's side door, a smartly dressed, dark-skinned man steps, vaulting over the door without opening it, revealing his pink sock, which goes well with the pink shirt and handkerchief he wears under his grey vest and slacks.

Dark, round sunglasses and a shiny bald head complete the look, the only incongruous part being his precarious pegged leg, which replaces his right shin and foot.

"And so here I be
Adrift at sea
With cause no longer I bear the shame
Of failing friends and sullying names
But on only me, can be laid the blame.

So wise patrons take some heed
Before you try these spurious deeds
Of murder, vengeance, and blackened need
So barkeep, please, a cup of mead."

The sullen, not entirely stable Rhymelord sits himself down on a nearby stool, casting his head about and taking in those nearby, settling finally on the oddly normal human. He raises a hand and tries waving him over, although it might appear that he's waving at someone off over the man's shoulder.