[NEXUS] Trog's Tavern CCIX

[Murkus]

Dar sounds soothed, content, uplifted even as the sad music continues. "I ennnjoy music. One of hummmanity's most valuable innnventions."

Then he turns to Haruki. And leans back a bit, glancing at his wings and other angelic features. "Heeello..." He says, a bit cautious of talking to a creature from human folklore. As I said, he's new here.

[Haruki-kun]

Haruki stares at him blankly. Why? Well, he can tell Dar is somewhat staring at him. A bit too much. He shakes his wings a bit.

"Uhm...... BOO!" he says, opening them up as wide as possible.

[Lord Iames Osari]

Hmmm. May I ask who brought you here, then? Slavery was one of the crimes that weren't very popular in the Nexus. It's a rather impertinent question, but Michalson isn't a very tactful man.

"A c-circus. At least, they c-claimed to be a circus. I and some of my f-friends agreed to help with a m-magic trick, and when we w-woke up, we were here, and the circus was not." He sips his chocolate milk again. "We are not treated too b-badly, though, apart from the a-apostasy."

[Morty]

So... slavers disguised as a circus. That's a new one. What do you mean by "apostasy"?

[Lord Iames Osari]

Minat shudders. "We are f-forced to create heretical artifacts and devices that ch-channel the Void that th-threatens the Great Maker." His voice drops. "I am b-beginning to find it f-fascinating..."

[VampireRot]

Zanny undeadtimes! And is very annoyed as he plays a blue-sparked note to disintegrate the remaining deadtime goo on him.

"Ug. I need another drink."

So he is handed another glass of wine. And surveys the room to find someone interesting to talk to.

[iElf]

a young female violinist , dressed in black, and playing a morbid tune is sitting in the corner

[VampireRot]

Another musician! And female at that! Zanny springs into action! He walks over to her, and smiles. It's a mind-control smile that forces people to like him. Zanny's like that.

"Why hello miss. Why the sad tune?"

[Morty]

Minat shudders. "We are f-forced to create heretical artifacts and devices that ch-channel the Void that th-threatens the Great Maker." His voice drops. "I am b-beginning to find it f-fascinating..."

Michalson shrugs and puffs a cloud of smoke from his pipe.
Is this Great Maker a deity you worship? There aren't many things he respects, but religion is one of them.

[iElf]

Another musician! And female at that! Zanny springs into action! He walks over to her, and smiles. It's a mind-control smile that forces people to like him. Zanny's like that.

"Why hello miss. Why the sad tune?"

she grins "why not? life is a farce anyway. and the dead are much more forgiving than the living"

[VampireRot]

"Ah, a pessimist. I shall take it into my hands to convert you into the wonderful land of optimism. This is how our songs go.

Zanny grins and strums his lyre. Electric blue sparks (totally for aesthetic purposes) spring from his fingers. A slow song that gradually gets faster ad faster comes from the enchanted instrument. It gives the sense of being uplifted, and as with all of Zanny's songs, magically affects people's moods. It makes listeners feel hope, confidence, and accomplishment.

[iElf]

she giggles "...I am an optimist...I just feel that I prefer the company of the dead. or the living dead. or other things you people label as monsters"

[VampireRot]

"Oh. Usually claiming life as a farce is what pessimists do. I apologize for mis-labeling you. I am not well versed in the undead. The only things I know about them is that they usually try to eat you. But, hey, if you get along with them, that's fine."

Zanny raises an eyebrow, but keeps his smirk. His hand continues to play the optimist song almost unconsciously. His lyre doesn't like being played then stopped, played then stopped, played then stopped. So he plays the song a few times over. Hope, confidence, and accomplishment for everyone!

[Lord Iames Osari]

Michalson shrugs and puffs a cloud of smoke from his pipe.
Is this Great Maker a deity you worship? There aren't many things he respects, but religion is one of them.

Minat nods.

[iElf]

"Oh. Usually claiming life as a farce is what pessimists do. I apologize for mis-labeling you. I am not well versed in the undead. The only things I know about them is that they usually try to eat you. But, hey, if you get along with them, that's fine."

Zanny raises an eyebrow, but keeps his smirk. His hand continues to play the optimist song almost unconsciously. His lyre doesn't like being played then stopped, played then stopped, played then stopped. So he plays the song a few times over. Hope, confidence, and accomplishment for everyone!

she giggles "I really do get along with them. especially the ones I make myself"

[Morty]

Minat nods.

I see. That's quite a conundrum you have, then... to be forced to go against your god's wishes. He puffs another cloud of smoke from his pipe. I might not be the most moral of people, but this... is one thing I'd never do to anyone.
((Deadtime.))

[VampireRot]

"Oh. A necromancer. Interesting..."

Zanny isn't quite so keen on necromancy, though he isn't exactly a paladin himself. He sips wine with one hand while still playing his hope-song with the other.

"So... How does reanimation work?"

[Lord Iames Osari]

I see. That's quite a conundrum you have, then... to be forced to go against your god's wishes. He puffs another cloud of smoke from his pipe. I might not be the most moral of people, but this... is one thing I'd never do to anyone.
((Deadtime.))

Minat looks as though he's about to respond, when a ninja zombie drops from the rafters. "Surgeon Minat, it's time for you to return. You may bring your drink with you."

[Kaiser6012]

From outside the bar, a resounding *CLANG* could be heard. It sounded like somebody dropped a full saucepan from their window onto the street below, though much louder. The noise, strange though it was, was gone in an instant and nothing seemed to come of it.

Spoiler

Show

Outside, though, things are moving rather quickly. The streets were surprisingly clear, so there wasn't much commotion when the man popped into existance with nary a blur or waver in space/time, upside down, wearing breastplate and wielding a warhammer as if he were surrounded by foes.
Gravity ensued rapidly, bringing the man down to earth with a painful-looking *CLANG*. He picked himself up tenderly, swaying noticeably as he did so. He looked around with uncomprehending eyes before moving towards the largest source of sound nearby, a brightly lit building with a sign above proclaiming it to be Trog's Tavern...

[Lord Iames Osari]

Minat looks as though he's about to respond, when a ninja zombie drops from the rafters. "Surgeon Minat, it's time for you to return. You may bring your drink with you."

Minat sighs, a bit unhappily, and allows himself to be escorted out.

The napkins are left behind, covering his graffiti until somebody removes them or they are blown away by something.

[UncleWolf]

Several ants begin scurrying across the graffiti left by the man, as Lita and her Hive try to figure out what it says.

[Lord Iames Osari]

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thͬ̌ȅ̈͗ͧ ̾̂̂̐e͂́ͩn̐̚gi͑̈ͦ͆̓̚n̄ͯ̌̃̆ͬe ͑̀oͬͫ̅̍̎f̏̇̎͌ ̆͗ͥ̂ẻ̐̃͂xtiͯn̅̒ć̍t̃͛ͬ̚ḯo͒̿̔n̾ͨ͗ͩͭ͗̏ ͣ͑͐̾ͩdecr̀ͫͦ̊̅̂͒ee̋̏̒ͩͮͣ̓sͣ͐
́̉aͣ͛ͨp̏̏ͫ͛ôͭ́s̅̅͛ͮͮtͨͬͯͤ̐ͤaͪ͐̾t̾̋è̎ͦ͗̿ ̋̐̊ͭ̉dͥͮe̿͂sͪ̊ͦ́̓̌í̉ͦͣgͤ͌̍̑nsͥ͒ ̉̔̆͆f̀ͬ͛͊ͫ̊usͪ̋̿̄̐̿̃ếͪͪͯͤ̄ ̌͛̒ͬ̂wͬ̅̒ith͛ ̔b̔ͪͧͣͫͪl͗͒ͤa͋ck̔ͪ͂͂ͨͣͦeͫnͤ̽̎ͮ̉ȇ̾͒dͫ͑ͭ su͐ͫns̈̔
̇̋iͮͬ ͪ̃aͥ̊ͣͪ̉̚m̑͗̋ͩ̿̉̉ ͊foͮ̃̿̒͑rͩͪͤs̏̈̉a̔̀ͦ̚k̆͐̑ͤ̈́́e͋̈́ͥ͆ñ̾́̑ ̋͑̽̔̚̚-͌̓ͭ̆̉̌̚ ͦ̆gͫ͛̒̅ȉ̀̑̆v̿̏̈͂ë͗̃͊̃̅̚n ͯͪͬ̓̓͌ẗ́̈́͋͂̋̽ͤŏͣ͛ ̂͑̓t̽h̒̊̿e ͩ̐̾͐ͩ̉v̏́̽͛͑͆̉o͛i̅d͒̓̋̅
̺̥̺ͤ̈́́͋̓͆ͪH͓̆̐ͦͨ͗̊E͈̮ͪ̈́ ̳̦̄̓C̼̯͙̫̑̔ͧ̾O̙͕͈̯ͪ̏ͤ̽ͪM̩̖̝ͣͭ̊̃̽̾̉E͎̗͓̝̲̣S̫̓ͤ
̼

[Murkus]

Haruki stares at him blankly. Why? Well, he can tell Dar is somewhat staring at him. A bit too much. He shakes his wings a bit.

"Uhm...... BOO!" he says, opening them up as wide as possible.

Dar recoils away with surprising speed for a creature his size, sounding rather apprehensive. He doesn't seem to want to go near the wings.

Those archangels, man. Can't trust any of em'.

"Diiid you wannnt something?"

[The Bushranger]

Meanwhile, Val and Marcie walk into the bar, talking and smiling. Val heads to the bar, while Marcie, a bit behind, notices some scribbling on a table as she passes it, and walks over to check it out curiously.

[Lord Iames Osari]

There's the graffiti. Being cryptic, prophetic, and doomful.

[The Bushranger]

"Val? Come see," Marcie calls to her friend, who orders a Black Shadow and a llamaade, and then comes over to inspect as well.

Frowns.

And re-reads it.

"Cryptic, prophetic, and doomful," she muses, which draws a nod from her Flemish companion.

[Lord Iames Osari]

"Is it?" Cosmo asks grumpily, coming over to clean the graffiti off. "Do you think anything bad would happen if I got rid of it?"

[The Bushranger]

"...probably not," Val says after a moment, to the grumbly gnome. "I'm not exactly an expert on magic writing, though."

Marcie just shrugs; she knows even less.

[Lord Iames Osari]

Cosmo looks at it a minute. "Well, hells, I'm not gonna risk it. Damn creepy twitchy guy with his crazy eye and his bloodstained labcoat writin' crazy doom prophecies on our tables..." he mutters.

[The Bushranger]

"...that sounds certainly ominious, yes. Could you describe him in more detail?" Val asks everybody's favourite grumbly gnome.

Marcie, meanwhile, gets the bright idea of grabbing a saltshaker, and taking the message with a few grains tossing some salt on the message, to see what hapens.