The Backways Bar [RP]

I'm bored. This looks fun. I love RP <3
Also 7

The door creaks slowly as a robed figure emerges.
A kitsune woman with a singular white tail, long flowing white hair, and two tailed robe stands in the doorway as a cold wind blows into the bar. Her eyes are covered by a veil that stands inside of the hood of her cloak. She stands a bit under 6 foot with a lithe stature. The only feature that catches your eyes is the veil with a golden character stitched onto the center: 死
"This-," she pauses, "is not where I expected to turn up."
Her hand moves to her waist as if ready to draw something from underneath her robe.
“I knew the door was enchanted, but not with this powerful a magic. Identify yourselves or feel the wrath of my abilities.”

Some notes on my character (if you have telepathic or similar mind-reading capabilities):
*she's unaligned nation-wise, but well-versed in each of the nation's culture and ideologies
*she identifies with a smaller merchant/adventurer's guild called siannodel, a guild who promotes travelling between nations
*the area around her presence seems to grow cold, but quickly returns to normal temperature as she moves away
*her name is Xownfos Siannodel, as my username comes from
*if your character is an adventurer, or looks at quest boards often, you've probably seen some quests on from the siannodel guild or xownfos in particular

EDIT:
are all of you guys EMEA/ASIA timezones? DDD;

 

Movement, impossibly fast movement, at the edge of your vision, and you feel a cold, metal claw on your shoulder.
"I wouldn't try that," says the soft, light voice, "That monster guarding the entrance doesn't much like it when you try to attack people. I, however, am kind enough to introduce myself: I am Thedra."

(no
iirc everyone here is in some america-esq timezone)

"I'm alright. I love watching people play - so many different styles. They can really tell you a lot about a person."
She smirks at those last words.

[She definitely knows that there is some sort of code (or hidden communication, at least), but she is still clueless as to how to use it or what it means . . . for now.]

 

The elf smirks in turn.
"I see the Knave's opening used more and more frequently."
Then, the elf, looking the pseudo-human dead in the mask's eyes, asks, "What song do you sing, then?"

 

As you touch her shoulder, it seems to pass through. Almost as if it were an illusion.
The kitsune’s head tilts slightly at the notion of the beast only retaliating against attacks, but her hand stays at her waist as she steps towards the table of cards.
“Well met Thedra. I am Xownfos of the Siannodel Guild. If you wouldn’t mind, please remove the law off my person. Still, if you aren’t trying to instigate anything why bother with the enchantment on the door? I’ve been through that door many times before, and it doesn’t normally lead to this-,” she pauses again trying to come up with a name for the room, “-this pub.”

 

Thedra stares into their eyes.
Five seconds pass. Ten.

Thedra's eyes widen.
She staggers back.

"Y-You."
(Her voice has returned to a rasp.)
She raises a trembling human arm, bringing it up to point it at the elf.
"You should be dead."

[These next couple events (the ones in blue) are only experienced by Thedra and the elf - whether illusion or time magic, it's unclear.]

The lights start flickering, Stranger-Things-esq, and Thedra's metal mask melts away to reveal a horrific visage, with the mouth locked in this face-wide grin and the eyes seemingly gouged out, dripping with some black liquid. The claws (both of which now seem to be bloodstained), start extending toward the elf.

"I don't know how, by the gods above and below, you survived the wrath of Irivex, but you sure as hell won't survive mi-"
Thedra is cut off as the piranha guard lunges toward her.

The scene cuts back to normal.
The piranha guard is back at the door, the lights are no longer flickering, and Thedra's mask is back (notably, a single drop of black liquid drops to the floor from one of her eyes).
"My apologies," she says to the elf (back in her normal voice), "I got a bit carried away there. I was just . . . surprised that your previous statement held truth. Not many fight Irivex and live to tell the tale."

In response to your question,
"My tune is with the One Below, of course - who else?"

[From that response, you get three pieces of information.
First, she seems to have scoured your thoughts - this is spoken in proper Thieves' cant.
Second, she has aligned herself with Irivex.
Third, if your character is intelligent, they'll notice a very specific choice of words. Thedra did not say that she worked for Irivex, she said she worked with him.]

 

alright time for a vaguely namak-style script

The elf puts their cards face down on the table and stands.

"I am called Low. I'm not surprised that Devarien decided to cut me out of the story. I don't intend to describe my survival, lest it prevent another's."

It was clear that the amalgam had searched his brain. Lohlethean had learned self-deception a long time ago, but it took effort. He was on guard now - he didn't know how much the monstrosity had learned, but he could make some assumptions. Not yet, however. Not yet.

They'll kill you.

He'd known for a long time that he was probably insane. He was good at hiding it, and it was generally manageable.

You'll have to kill them first.
No, they can be useful yet.
No, they're too danger-

Even the maniacal voices in his head argued with each other. It had started back then, he thought. Back when the traitor revealed his nature.

Kill it! It knows too-

Shut up.

That usually didn't work, but it never hurt to try. It had been a long time since those voices had cooperated, and even longer since they'd said anything helpful.

But the tiefling... they were interesting. Their cant had been several hundred years old, and they'd dealt straight. Lohlethean began to recall the... not now. Not with the halflife. At least he'd... not that.

His thoughts were scattering. Bad. Penguins. Could the halflife have forged a link? He searched his mind.

Screams. More screams. Deeper. Screams, screams, screams, further down, screams, screams. Screams, screams... blackness.

He could always go here, when the voices had gotten too loud at night. They were always worse at night. Not now. No, there was just a crack left, from the puncture. He could seal that up. And now he knew what to watch for.

Done.

At least he didn't have to endure the screams on the way up, even if everyone had just watched him stare blankly into nothingness for... however long.

Lohlothean turned to the bartender. "A shot of the strongest you've got."
Alcohol pushed the voices away.

A glass on the counter. He downed it all at once, and it burned in his throat.
He'd always wondered why psychologically influencing poison stopped the voices. It made more sense for it to make them worse, but he didn't really need a reason. Nothing made much sense anymore.

He turned back to the halflife and the tiefling.

"Sorry, where were we?"

 

"Would you mind dealing me in? I've learned some new strategies worth testing."
Thedra sits herself down to the left of Low.
"How many of you are in there?" she mutters to Low, evidently referring to the voices in his head.

 

Spoiler: The Observant Notes That Neshu Lacks Pupils:

The eyes no longer glow, but their mundane sight was long ago traded for knowledge of the Jailed Truths. This was near pointless, for the universal insight gained was no path to immortality, but it means that the priest can no longer rely on light to see.

Neshu is no mage, at least not a traditional one. Their manasight can barely sense an active spell, let alone Potentia. Their Qi detection is better, all but the smallest meridians galaxies in an otherwise black void, but by far the most developed world-sense of Neshu, pas Aventaria is their grafted attunement to the elements.

Neshu generally relies on the attunement, but those other senses are not useless. Far from it. Thedra cannot hide a flare of magic, and Low cannot hide a flare in the soul. Also, the alcohol. Quite a tip-off, yes?

For safety's sake, at least, the creature that calls itself Neshu sets a short mental timer and dumps all possible incriminating memories into the contingency crystal embedded deep inside their sternum. The priest is now one in truth, thiry-four years old and merely assisting the Capitoline Underground on occasion out of moral concerns.

This rewrite isn't very thorough and will fall apart under basic scrutiny, but Neshu isn't the type to scrutinize themself, and it's not as if any invaders will be able to find the buried memories -- they simply aren't there.

Neshu deals Thedra in using a top-three mid-two bottom-one pattern. It's still rather basic.

"She owns not the bar, Madam Xownfos-of-Siannodel. None here understand its enchantments, but, er, good job on the invitation? The machine," they say, pointing towards the giant clockwork apparatus behind the bar, "serves any drink. Would you care to join the Leivas table?"

 

"It thought we hadn't got to killing people yet. Threats are quite fun to play with. Might as well lay some cards on the table."
Thedra, you feel a claw, much in the same way as you previously did, on your shoulder. But you see nothing there. This sensation, unlike the aura around the kitsune, isn't cold, as if more tactile.
"Eyes on me please, it's quite rude to look away during conversation"

 

sorry my quotes aren't working rn idk why
@htmn: "She owns not the bar, Madam Xownfos. None here understand its enchantments, but, er, good job on the invitation? The machine," they say, pointing towards the giant clockwork apparatus behind the bar, "serves any drink. Would you care to join the Leivas table?"
"I'd be glad to. But I must test this clock you tell of."
*to the clock* "An Icevein Concoction if you wouldn't mind"
While she waits for the clock to respond, she turns back to Neshu. "By the way, I didn't catch your name. What should I address you as?"


and my pings don't work either sad

 

Neshu takes a moment to mull something over in their head. 'Bah', they think, 'it's a bar setting. It matters not.' Of course, the currently massive gaps in their memory and understanding of the world allow Neshu to miss the fact that the conventions they worry over are centuries out of date.

"I am Neshu, pas Aventaria, Priest of Nightbrother Daekkan within the Imperial Seat. 'Tis nice to meet thee."

 

A pair of eyes (human eyes, not the metal spheres which Thedra has on her face) open up on the back of her metallic head. With any knowledge of magic whatsoever, it's clear that these aren't her "normal" eyes, but whether or not they can see is a different issue altogether.

"I was under the impression that our conversation was over."
Her tone has most definitely become slightly more aggressive. She's clearly not used to being around people who are of a similar "power level" to her, and feels threatened.

 

Aurelion barely notices the newcomer as he settles into the darkness of the room’s far corner.
Partially covering himself with his cloak, Aurelion reaches into a hidden compartment within the robes and pulls out a small, circular metal device with a gemstone embedded into its surface. Aurelion puts a hand on the gem’s surface, and after a while, the device glows brightly and begins to beep, emanating a pale violet light.
After a few seconds, the light coalesces into the figure of a tall woman in steel armor. Her face is scarred and she wears her hair in a small braid, her eyes a cold shade of deep gray.
She turns to Aurelion, her expression almost surprised. “Centurion Aurelion. Have there been any issues with contacting me?”
“There have not, Legate,” Aurelion responds.
“Good,” Augusta replies calmly. “I spoke with Consul Vaexattor earlier this morning. He demands progress and information. What have you found?”
“Not much yet, Legate,” Aurelion begins. “But I believe I have found a clue to what we seek.
Here, allow me. It is better if you see for yourself.”
Still trying to conceal himself, he holds the device upwards, shining the light in the direction of Neshu and Low.
“Have you seen this ‘Neshu’ before? I have a suspicion that they know far more than they should.”
From the device, Augusta’s breath suddenly hisses through her teeth. She almost flinches and her eyes grow wide.
“You suspect correctly, Centurion. They were there at the manor,” the Legate says, breathing heavily. “I know it-I remember them. They tried to summon the construct on us.”
Aurelion exhales deeply. Could it be?
“Are you sure?” he asks nervously. “Why would a member of the House be here?”
“Whatever it is, they are exceedingly dangerous. You must not let them leave the bar’s premises. We have been searching too long to let this opportunity escape us.”
“What should I do?” Aurelion asks, glancing towards the table where Neshu sits.
“Whatever you must,” Augusta instructs. “Stall for time, preferably. And if all goes wrong, kill them.”
Aurelion nods, studying the tiefling worriedly. “With all respect, are you sure this is a wise course of action? They seem …quite dangerous.”
“Then simply buy us time,” Augusta decides. “I will send you reinforcements if necessary.”
“I’m not sure if any ordinary soldiers could suffice here,” Aurelion muses. “There are several other beings in the bar, each seemingly very powerful.”
Augusta’s figure stops, resting a hand on her chin.

“Will a Praetorian serve?” she eventually asks.
Aurelion feels a chill run up his spine. “Yes..I believe one will take care of the situation quite well. Just..do not let it become too messy.”
Augusta smiles grimly. “I believe your request isn’t much of an option when it comes to the Praetorian.”
Aurelion shivers. A Praetorian? Here? It seemed that Augusta was ready to take every measure possible, no matter how decisive they could be.

“My actions are giving away too much right now,” he says. “I will speak to you later.”
“Very well,” the Legate responds, her tone still uncertain. “Contact me if anything else happens.”
The image flickers away and disappears, leaving Aurelion alone with the device.
But before the Centurion can put it away, Neshu suddenly seems to notice him. Their eyes widen in realization.

 

Low's on guard now, and is presenting false thoughts.
"There's a reason the elves consider six an unlucky number," the elf mutters back.

Lohlethean's eyes were even sharper than most elves' in the darkness, and the glow of the device draws his attention. Though the light disappears to his eyes after a moment, he can still see Aurelion talking - seemingly to nobody. He looks on, intrigued as Neshu and Aurelion seem to recognize each other a bit better, with... whatever event just happened.

[The communication device's mechanics are similar enough to a ghost that Low can't sense it.]

 

You don't know how, but it feels like the kitsune can hear even the tiniest things even from across the room.
(OOC if you can see past illusions, there seem to be two images of the kitsune, one moving around the room, invisible, listening to what's going on in the room, while the other stands by the clock)
Xownfos grabs the drink and addresses Aurelion from across the room "Not you as well... All of you are such violent people. Wouldn't some more peace help the world?"
A faint tinge of sadness reaches everyone in the room as Xownfos mentions peace. Some faint feeling from a distant memory of another person years ago.
[OOC the clock can somehow know if anything is poisonous right? But what is poison defined as? Because you could consider alcohol a poison? pls help clarify ty @hmtn ]

________________________________

She bows slightly when you mention being part of the Imperial Seat. "It is a great honor to meet one within the Imperial Seat. I am nowhere near worthy of your presence.

"And you elf? What title should I to address you?"

 

Low had no favor for peace. He'd believed in it once, but it felt a lie. People had just as much right to be angry as to be joyful.
Crush them.
If only his voices could stay quiet for more than thirty seconds. He knew he couldn't drink too much, though, especially because elves were typically more sensitive to alcohol than others.

"My title is not intended for conversation. I would advise none."

 

"Still, I must address you in some manner, be it your name or a facade. Whatever will catch your attention."
She pauses after asking, walks towards you, and sits on the floor besides you in a manner similar to a fox or feline animal.
"I sense unrest within your mind. What troubles you?"

 

A blasted fool is I! Neshu notices nothing! Their memories are gone, at least temporarily! Oh, what misfortune, to run into the only two people in the entire blasted Imperial Seat to recognize the priest for what it truly is!

 

"I have said already. I am called Low. As for what troubles me, that would be the grim inevitability of the passing of time."

 

"You mustn't worry about such matters. Live life to the greatest as they say. Or- fullest? I forget the human sayings sometimes."