Roleplay is adults only. User under 18 must leave immediately
Or I will call your mom
We have no funding and I don't have time to moderate
Owned by Wolven
You enter the smoke-filled tavern, the scent of whiskey and love labours lost hanging thickly in the air like cheap perfume. Seats scatter the premises, yet spaces are clearly coveted so it would be wise that you select a place in which to sit very soon. Flames flicker invitingly as they engulf and caress the oaken logs that produce a friendly fire situated on the right-hand side of the entrance.
Winding wooden steps diminish eventually into the perpetual gloom of the mysterious upper-floor overnight quarters. Be warned; screams cannot be heard by the dead.
We expect you to be respectful and of quality, both with writing and picture choice. If you or your picture does not fit the mood of the Tavern, you are out. The only person you have to blame for your expulsion is yourself, if it indeed occurs.
Welcome to The Grey Stallion Tavern
Hm, there it is.
Working on it.
Besides. That’s a new look?
Grabs a mop and bucket.
Fresh, make it new, exciting. Isn't that what you said?
Offering a four-fanged, toothy grin, the Aphiran dropped from his table and padded across the dusty, detritus-covered beaten floorboards, stepping over dust-caked discarded bottles and clambering over the bar. An incredibly old green bottle filled with a viscous black and silver metallic liquid was clunked onto the top, before he explored around, claws clinking and scratching against broken, dirty glasses.
At some point we'll need a destination, somewhere we are, but I'll find someone for that in due time.
Well, you got me there. I did say that.
Starts to mop the floors.
Depends where you fancy this time? I was partial to the coastal place we ended up in once. That was nice. Maybe a little Christmas village, Hm?
Nods his head and wrinkles his muzzle at the mention of Christmas, before offering a short, gruffed ‘bah’ in response. Placing one of the slightly less grimy glasses from the back atop the bar, he uncorked the bottle with a thumb claw and upturned the thick liquid into the glass, letting it slosh and spill. The claws of his free hand roamed the bartop, slicing the wood along truly old scars, healing the new marks as quickly as he could make them.
Coastal I can deal with, though I don't remember where exactly you mean. This place has been to many, many, many places.
Hums a little as she tries to recall the specifics.
I was never much good with names. The Tavern was on this huge hilltop that overlooked a harbour and the ocean, it was all you could see for miles and miles. Quiet, until the storms came in.
Glances up at the rafters.
Planning on returning up there and becoming a dust magnet?
Drawing his claws through his jaw fluff, the Aphiran pursed his lips and made a low sound, clicking his claws.
Corvaxi Coast I think, near the Twilight Fields, I'm fairly sure I actually remember writing it. I'll dig up my old maps and have a little peruse.
Following her gaze up to the darkened beams and the all-consuming void above, he lifted his shoulders in a light shrug and swirled the thick liquid in his glass, dipping a claw in to drag a long-dead fly out that had found its way to the surface of his drink, flicking it absently towards an open window beside the bar.
We'll see how things go, it was never my want to be up there, things just never moved at a pace that held my interest. No one offered anything of substance and I get sick of trying to drag it out of people.
Sounds familiar. It was nice there is all. I liked the ocean, and the storms.
Oh? I suppose at our age things do tend to slow down. Especially for the ones older than us. Then again, who knows. A second life isn’t too bad and I know there’s at least a handful of old faces still lurking around.
Hums and sets the mop aside, tutting at the cleaner floors. She digs up a washcloth and starts to wipe down surfaces.
Popping a massive, half-eaten parchment map on the bartop and blowing the dust off, he sprawled his pads along the surface and rolled jewelled fingers across the inked surface, following outlines of islands and coasts, inland rivers, before he tapped a claw to an inlet.
I'll move us tomorrow, I'm sure Mira still has this place charged enough to get at least one location.
He eyed the tavern in general, maybe a little uncertain about that statement, before rolling the parchment up and stuffing it back beneath the bar, wiping his hands across the top to brush the dust away, since she was busy with cleaning. An impossible task for one person if you asked him. Next, he shuffled to one of the windows and peeked outside, before closing the curtain back over it.
Best not to actually leave without a portal until I have done.
Mira. Well, I’m sure the old timer won’t thank me for saying it, but I think the weather is clinging to his bones a bit more these days.
Gives a small smile when he dusts the table off and carries on. There’s a cherry hum in the air as she spruces the place up as best she can.
The others will come, they’ll work their way in from wherever the winds have chased them off to. All it takes is a familiar face.
You're right, he won't. Best not to let him hear you say that, he'll show you he's far from gone and still has a long way to go, assuming he ever actually reaches an end. Which I'm not convinced he can…
Squinting one eye in thought on that, he took his glass and made his way over the bar, using the tabletops she had not cleaned to get to his own in the far corner, feet scattering coins as he messily dropped himself into his seat and rolled it back onto two legs with a worrying ‘creak’. His clawed feet propped atop the table as his tongue dipped into his drink testingly.
I doubt that myself, but maybe there's a new crowd who won't annoy me enough to want to throttle someone. Once upon a time I even tried garnering the interest, didn't quite work though.
Laughs a little and hums in agreement about Mira. She watches him cross over the Tavern and find his seat, inspecting her handiwork to make sure she hasn’t missed a spot.
People you don’t want to throttle will be in short supply, I think. I have to admit sometimes I’m a little tempted myself to get agitated with some of them. The old faces still lurk around though, I see them come in now and then.
A sudden clinking from across the tavern alerts the occupants. Having kicked aside a half-broken bottle that held the door ajar, she crosses what she once thought to be a long-forgotten threshold. From her deep midnight blue cloak, a single hand browned from more than the sun emerges in cautious greeting.
I certainly hope I don't inspire any throttling.
Glances up and goes to pick up the bottle and dispose of it before going back to her own chores of cleaning the glasses and making sure they are spotless. A small smile creeps up to her face and she eyes the room.
Hm, I'm sure you'll be fine. Sometimes people's barks are worse than their bites, that's true for most occupants here except the owner I'm sure.
No throttling on my watch.
Smiles in return, one of the few features of her freckled face that's not partially obscured by her massive mane of thick, coily black curls. She follows the other woman back to the bar, taking a seat atop one of the stiff wooden stools at the counter - albeit with some difficulty in finding a comfortable position.
Already feel safer under your protection, miss…?
Im just the Barkeep here, cleaner and chef I suppose. Although… Usually I’m shooed out the kitchen.
You burn one thing and nobody ever forgets it.
Scoffs at that and looks to the other woman. She hums and pulls down a bottle, pouring out a drink and sliding it over with a bright smile.
Did you come here before?
Underappreciated talent is all. Pleased to meet you all the same.
Accepts the drink with a smile. She gives it a testing sniff before tipping the glass to the Barkeep and taking a sip. The amber liquid is quick to coat the tongue and leave a lasting, though not altogether unpleasant, burn as it goes down. Smacking her lips, satisfied, she cradles the glass in two hands to nurse it while leaning forward on the bar.
I'd passed by once or twice, but never stayed for long. I didn't feel welcomed - although, that was no one's fault except my own.
Chuckles lightly at the memories before continuing with a sigh.
I was just a young, dumb kid with the anxious thoughts to match. Everyone else at the time just seemed so much more…
Waves hand aimlessly, searching.
Mature, I guess? I dunno. Didn't feel like I could measure up in any significant way, so I avoided attempting. But look at me now: all grown up.
Takes another pointed swig of the drink and smirks sardonically.
Chuckles a little at the mention of maturity and hums along.
I suppose we’re always a little nervous in our youth, I was just a wee lamb when I first came here and I spent most of it intimidated.
Leans in like it’s a secret.
Truthfully, depending on who’s around, it still is a little intimidating. But-
Leans back and rests on the counter.
Most of them are softies at heart with no bad intentions, even if they don’t always admit it.
Nods knowingly about previous feelings of intimidation. Then snorts loudly at the fact that they still linger.
I will say, that does make me feel a bit better. So, how long ago would you say it was since you first came here?
Raises hands in mock surrender.
Not that I’m asking for you to reveal any specific age or number if you don’t want to - just roundabout.
Smiles and thinks for a while, counts on her fingers in attempt to do the math correctly.
Well, I think it has to be close to fifteen years, maybe just over? I can’t recall exactly but I came into the Tavern when I first came around these parts. I’ve been fortunate most people have been nice to me, save for the odd grumpy day when they just need to lash out.
Shrugs and smiles.
Well, that’s good. I don’t think I’ve personally even interacted with enough people to have any outlying meanies. But, that also means little to no lasting connections.
Sips from the glass once again, wiping away a stray dribble from her chin with the back of her hand.
Bit lonely. Particularly in a place with plenty of throttle-able people nowadays.
It never used to be, it was always busy, always vibrant even on the worst days.
Descending from the rafters above, he let himself drop onto the bar on all fours and straightened out, hopping down off and taking a seat on one of the worn stools. His gaze drifted around the tavern, its old achy wooden bones and weathered brick, a smell that was both familiar and unique but noticeably aged about the place.
I think the lack of interesting, capable people is down to them finding places and settling, other sites, other places or even hobbies, like creative writing outside of roleplay. Why there are no fresh faces and we keep seeing the same golden oldies, that I have no answer for.
Never any meanies, just people who are feeling a bit prickly now and then, happens to the best of us.
Glanced over and pours a drink, setting it down for WolvenGlade. Proceeds to go back behind the bar and lean on the counter.
Golden oldies. Hm, I suppose the youngsters today only really want their immediate gratification and then to move on to whatever’s next. I’ve peeped into the chat places and it just seems a little sketchy. Youngsters and oldies don’t mix on the internet.
Prickly is a good word for it.
Chuckling low, he rolled his claws around the given drink and dipped his head in thanks. Inspecting the glass, was far cleaner than the day before, in fact, the whole place was.
You're probably right with that actually, hadn't thought of the gratification and the lower attention span.
Times are changing. The youngsters seem younger than ever, I’m sure they’ll come into their own eventually. From what I’ve seen they just want immediate attention, positive or negative.
Pours herself a drink, something sweet smelling and fruity with no alcohol. She takes a small nip from it and sighs.
Besides, were we really so different?
Hm, makes me wonder what we’ll parent like if the golden oldies ever have kids. Maybe it’ll come full circle?
Hums and thinks in it before picking a chair to sit in and undoing her apron strings.
The internet tends to drive the youngsters wild and they believe that they need to be special and unique. They don’t realise they’re already unique without the added uh, embellishments.
Hard to believe you're special when you're actively seeing a million other 'specials' within the span of a five minute scroll. In the age of knowledge, we all know a little too much - particularly about one another. Or, at least, what we decide to showcase to one another.
Rubs temples with an aching, low groan.
People should focus on being themselves, instead of trying to be special for the sake of internet brownie points. They're not exactly getting you prizes.
Rolling his eyes, he downed his drink and slid the glass along to Null, before clambering up onto the bar and leaping up to hoist himself into the rafters, perching.
Nods, her gaze following him skyward into the dusty beams.
They should… but that instant gratification dopamine is one helluva drug.
Yawns and stumbles in from a back room.
Speaking of instant gratification, apparently I needed a very long sleep.
Fixes up a drink and slips it over, stretching.
People get decent sleeps these days? Hm, I’m sure your system will need a catch up and reset soon enough.
Massages tired eyes, not fully cognitive at such an ungodly hour.
I can confirm that people do not, in fact, get decent sleep these days. Even during brief work respites, I find that my body is now wired in such a way that makes it impossible to wake up feeling refreshed.
Knocks on the worn wood of the bar, peering this way and that before calling out in a sing-song voice.
It's never closed.
Well, not to regulars anyways. Just been busy, cleaning, dusting, doing dishes, mopping this stupid old floor and don't get me started on the pelts because those- Oh, those are so much fun to clean!
She huffs and starts to put things away in a cupboard, freshly polished silverware.
Oh! And of course, cooking. It's chicken pie today with mixed greens and my special gravy, it's famous in some place ya know?
Starts as Vossler appears seemingly out of thin air, but upon recognition, she flings her arms around his neck in a friendly hug.
Oh, hello! Welcome. Been a minute.
She turns to the barkeep with a raised eyebrow.
What's so special about it?
Then, so as to not seem rude, hurriedly adds.
I mean, is it still a normal gravy, or is there an addition of something…more?
Smiles and delivers the hug back.
Indeed it has been a minute.
Looks over at Nulli and tilts his head to the site and scratches his beard.
That sounds lovely. I love chicken pie.
Oh! It's fabulous, really! I use this spice blend, slow simmer it for an hour so it's really lovely and thick and when you combine it with the chicken and the greens, oh and maybe a potato! It's divine, I promise!
Giggles and looks to the stove top which is simmering and bubbling away slowly.
Sounds scrumptious! Perfect for the cooler weather too.
Draws her own cloak closer around her shoulders.
Speaking of, any fun plans for All Hallows' Eve?
Listens intently at Nulli explains the dish and reveals the bubbling pot.
I love potatoes, when will it be done? That sure sounds yummy and I'm a sucker for yummy food.
Looks over at Fushen after her question about Halloween.
I'm not sure yet, to be honest I just stay home and hand the candy out nowadays
Hm, well. Couple of hours no doubt.
Eyes the rafters above and let’s some of the smell waft up there.
Ah, well I usually settle in for a cozy night with perhaps a wee tipple for a drink and me and the much better half enjoy a spooky movie together
Scoffs at herself.
Every year, I make grand plans to knock out a number of scary movies throughout the month - especially since I haven't seen a great deal of them - but I never end up getting around to following through with it. I make up for it well enough, I think, though. Haunted houses, themed bars, fall foliage hikes, etc.
Nods at Vossler.
I wish I could hand out candy, but we never get any trick-or-treaters. So, I gorge out on the stuff myself.
Oh, toffee apples! That’s what I should make up for here and get a few for myself for Uhm… Well, I have to taste what I make don’t I?
Furrows her brow trying to find an excuse.
Hm, maybe I’ll decorate for Halloween in here, spooky webs and everything. Maybe we’ll get cute little trick or treaters?
Beams from ear to ear.
That sounds delightful - I'd be more than happy to help too, if you need a hand. Oughta make myself useful in some capacity if I'm going to take up space here for a bit.
Decorating is a more the merrier sort of thing! Besides, I’ll need help tasting the candies and things, quality control you know, we can’t be giving out sub-par treats!
And we can put on some spooky sounds and make it look all creepy for the guisers!
PagesContinue reading this role play by signing up to Roleplay.cloud
Roleplay Now ! No email required!