Random Space Warp Goes Here.

[whipped_weapon]

One moment there is only a blank space in between two other patrons doors. In the next, there is a short, slim black elven child with many bleeding wounds, tripping into the Bar.

For Zaknafein of no-house, the transition is rapid, and frightening. First, there is only the darkness of the alley, and then he trips over a stone as he is running away as if from a pursuer.  Tightly held in his hand are a few coins, swiped from someone's money pouch.

Then, as he recovers, and catches himself ,getting to his feet, the light of the Bar hits his eyes like knives, and the young drow cries out, in shock, covering his eyes with his free hand, looking for the welcoming darkness of the stinking alley he left.

No luck.

The drowling, frightened, runs quickly, as quietly as he can into the nearest shadows he can find, the comforting darkness of a booth.

(OOC: Meeting Talae is the last event.)

Happy Hour

[wizard_howell]

It's a tired and subdued wizard who straggles into the bar tonight, rests his head on Bar's surface, and is presented with the option to tend. Never one to resist a challenge, regardless of how weary he might be, he nods resolutely. A wave of his hand later, the specials are up on the board.

Baby Aspirin
Morgan's Mountain
Witch's Brew #2 (#1 is busy)

At the very bottom, in tiny golden letters:

Bydd y dyn hwn yn talu am bopeth!*

It's only money, right?




*Drinks are on Howl's tab tonight.


ETA: and we're closed to new threads. Thank you, everyone.



Tag: Alba DeTamble

(no subject)

[young_womble]

Wellington had hoped that if he opened the door a few times a way out of his cave-in might have emerged. Sadly this has not yet occurred.

He's currently in the doorway, digging some soil onto a cloth, which he transfers into a bucket, and takes outside. Just until he can get out, and he'll clean up...

Now and again he stops and closes the door in case anyone else is trying to get in. Then takes out a bit more soil.

in libris (Alba is 24)

[chronodisplaced.livejournal.com]

She found the library (the regular one) and she spent the better part of a day (or longer, time can move so slowly at times) in there among the stacks -- trying to make sense of the organizational system. Then, even longer, when she started looking for texts that were possible for someone patient enough with a dictionary.

Eventually, she made it through with a few books worth reading into and has flipped over the back of a chair, ignoring her coffee, nose deep into the pages.

She scrawls a few absent notes (completely backward - she doesn't notice) in her notebook once in a while.



tag: Alba

(no subject)

[crabbycustomer]

In Karkat's world, playing cards exist, but they're considered a quasi-smutty, adults-only kind of thing. Certainly no one would let a six-sweep old play around with them. So instead of a house of cards, Karkat has a table to himself, and he's absently building a house out of dominoes while he watches the room. It's actually a pretty involved and byzantine structure, although he doesn't seem to be paying a lot of attention to what he's doing.

It's almost as if his species has been bred for, among other things, an unusual instinctive aptitude for architecture from a very young age.

(no subject)

[hecu_marine]

[OOM: There's some business to be taken care of before the Resistance moves into its new home....]

(no subject)

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart is hiding in a corner, near the fireplace.

After yesterday's confrontation, he still can't speak.

And when he tried to hunt some demon bunnies today, Urquhart found he couldn't shoot them. Something about the furry creatures touched him in ways it shouldn't.

That goddess has cursed him in a very strange way, and before he isn't sure what that is, he's not going to try anything else.

If he really wanted to hide, there is of course his room (it's too wet and cold and nasty outside for him to hide in the forest). But if he wants to find out what has happened to him, he has to allow some impressions, at least.

Oh this is just PRIME

[command_dot_com]

[OOM: Enzo delivers his report on his little....event at the Guardian Academy. Predictibly this is not the best thing Dot could have heard, but he could've done much worse.

Possibly.]

It's late tonight when Dot enters the bar from the upstairs closet of her home, but that's more than well enough. She can take the time she needs to here to work on a speech, as it is very unlikely she'll get much sleep at home until it's done.

After getting herself a big mug of Java, doctored with a little ROM, and a plate of fried paradoxes, she'll settle into a booth to open various vidwindows in front of her to get writing. Every so often Dot will look at a piece, mouth it silently and shake her head. If you get close enough before she notices you, you'd see that it looks like a cross between a speech and a projected dialogue between two people. Dot would probably not mind any old friends dropping in for a distraction, or meeting new people.