Just Another Nostalgia Bait Tavern

Quote from mrphobia_ >>

The armored individual looks upwards, resting their harpoon across their lap warily. They flip up part of their visor just enough to reveal sea-green eyes and darker toned skin, some mix between a warm umber and deep olive. “Good evening.” They respond politely, tipping their head a bit. They then sort of shift a bit in place, pulling a piece of seaweed off of their arm where it was jammed between the plates. “I feel as if I have gotten a little lost.”

 They chuckle, tilting their head curiously. “At sea? Happens.” They pause, opening their mouth and then closing it again while thinking. “Not to me. I don’t go out at sea. Er…” they get up and carefully walk a bit to the right to get a better view of them from that angle. “Oh, good evening too.” They look out the window by crouching down a lot. “Yeah. Evening.”

*spear my beloved*
A person in a forest green cloak stumbles into the tavern, hood up to partially obscure their face. As they walk farther in, onlookers can catch glimpses of a sleeveless top in scarlet red and matching pants tucked into tall black leather riding boots from under the cloak. Once they reach a seat, they reach up with one white gloved hand and take down their hood, revealing a masculine face and the slightly pointed ears of a half-elf, helix pierced several times up their length. His other hand, also gloved, stays down at his side, fist closed and with a length of cord, like the kind someone might string beads onto to make a necklace wrapped around it several times. A small line of red makeup wraps itself around his neck in a closed circle. Aside from a small saddlebag slung across his shoulder and the earrings running along each ear, the man looks unarmed, with no obvious weapons or trinkets, magical or otherwise, displayed anywhere on their body. 

Quote from Little_Red_Hunting_Hood >>

 They chuckle, tilting their head curiously. “At sea? Happens.” They pause, opening their mouth and then closing it again while thinking. “Not to me. I don’t go out at sea. Er…” they get up and carefully walk a bit to the right to get a better view of them from that angle. “Oh, good evening too.” They look out the window by crouching down a lot. “Yeah. Evening.”

 The armored cowboy sighs quietly. "No, I don't tend to get lost at sea. I mean... here. Wherever 'here' is. It is not of too much importance yet I suppose." They look up around the ceiling. "It is nice here. A bit unnerving how nice it is, honestly." Their harpoon tip taps against the ground like a nervous tick. "Hoping the food is nice. Do you have a name?"

Quote from 16thLevelMonk >>

*spear my beloved*
A person in a forest green cloak stumbles into the tavern, hood up to partially obscure their face. As they walk farther in, onlookers can catch glimpses of a sleeveless top in scarlet red and matching pants tucked into tall black leather riding boots from under the cloak. Once they reach a seat, they reach up with one white gloved hand and take down their hood, revealing a masculine face and the slightly pointed ears of a half-elf, helix pierced several times up their length. His other hand, also gloved, stays down at his side, fist closed and with a length of cord, like the kind someone might string beads onto to make a necklace wrapped around it several times. A small line of red makeup wraps itself around his neck in a closed circle. Aside from a small saddlebag slung across his shoulder and the earrings running along each ear, the man looks unarmed, with no obvious weapons or trinkets, magical or otherwise, displayed anywhere on their body. 

 The armored figure sort of flinches back as the door opens, hand on their harpoon, though they settle back down upon seeing the half elf walk through. They tilt their head in a greeting, though stare a little in a state of sort of confusion, as if trying to figure out what he is. They tap their hands on their harpoon in contemplation, focusing back on the bar. "Are you alright? You seem a bit in a hurry." 

*Would anyone be interested in a rp, or should I leave you guys be?*

Quote from mrphobia_ >>

Quote from 16thLevelMonk >>

*spear my beloved*
A person in a forest green cloak stumbles into the tavern, hood up to partially obscure their face. As they walk farther in, onlookers can catch glimpses of a sleeveless top in scarlet red and matching pants tucked into tall black leather riding boots from under the cloak. Once they reach a seat, they reach up with one white gloved hand and take down their hood, revealing a masculine face and the slightly pointed ears of a half-elf, helix pierced several times up their length. His other hand, also gloved, stays down at his side, fist closed and with a length of cord, like the kind someone might string beads onto to make a necklace wrapped around it several times. A small line of red makeup wraps itself around his neck in a closed circle. Aside from a small saddlebag slung across his shoulder and the earrings running along each ear, the man looks unarmed, with no obvious weapons or trinkets, magical or otherwise, displayed anywhere on their body. 

 The armored figure sort of flinches back as the door opens, hand on their harpoon, though they settle back down upon seeing the half elf walk through. They tilt their head in a greeting, though stare a little in a state of sort of confusion, as if trying to figure out what he is. They tap their hands on their harpoon in contemplation, focusing back on the bar. "Are you alright? You seem a bit in a hurry." 

 “I’ve been riding for quite a while. Even if you’re an experienced jockey it’ll numb your legs eventually. I’m sorry if I made you concerned, friend.” He adds that last word after a tentative pause as he angles his body towards the armored harpooner, subtly moving his closed fist behind his back to put himself between the figure and his hand. 

Quote from 50thAltOfBananer >>

*Would anyone be interested in a rp, or should I leave you guys be?*

 *this isn’t some exclusive friendgroup only tavern. We’re here to rp, we’ll interact if conditions are favorable and we want to*

Quote from mrphobia_ >>

Quote from Little_Red_Hunting_Hood >>

 They chuckle, tilting their head curiously. “At sea? Happens.” They pause, opening their mouth and then closing it again while thinking. “Not to me. I don’t go out at sea. Er…” they get up and carefully walk a bit to the right to get a better view of them from that angle. “Oh, good evening too.” They look out the window by crouching down a lot. “Yeah. Evening.”

 The armored cowboy sighs quietly. "No, I don't tend to get lost at sea. I mean... here. Wherever 'here' is. It is not of too much importance yet I suppose." They look up around the ceiling. "It is nice here. A bit unnerving how nice it is, honestly." Their harpoon tip taps against the ground like a nervous tick. "Hoping the food is nice. Do you have a name?"

 They snarl, glaring. “Who’s askin’?” They pause, not breathing as they stare at the cowboy.

they relax and smile warmly. “Just kiddin. People say I’m scary sometimes.” They hop down and land on all fours, before standing up and looking them in the eye. “I’m Beau. Did you make that harpoon?”

** The Mind **