The Tavern of Second Chances

Quote from Sablemeerkat676 >>

*I have a question can my character have blackrazor?*

 *The weapon? Sure. This tavern is connected to every world, so your character can be from the world with Blackrazor.*

“I suppose I should tell you my name.”

“Yejide”

“that’s the only thing I remember”

“I’m Emrys. Hello, Yejide. Perhaps I could help you find your memories?”

“I’m not sure you could help me because I’m not even sure how I lost my memories.”

Quote from Sablemeerkat676 >>

“I’m not sure you could help me because I’m not even sure how I lost my memories.”

 “So… we find out? This place is a little boring, I could use some adventure.”

“personally I’ve had enough adventure for one lifetime.”

Quote from Sablemeerkat676 >>

“personally I’ve had enough adventure for one lifetime.”

 “Well I haven’t. Been cooped up in the heavens my whole life, and the second I run away, I get stuck here.”

Quote from 50thAltOfBananer >>

Quote from Wes__ >>

Quote from 50thAltOfBananer >>

Quote from Wes__ >>

*Oh, man, it's here! I now have a place for all my lost OC souls that deserve homes (in the tavern's basement, of course, in very small pint glasses...).*

A tall, finely-dressed man stalks the perimeter of the tavern, vulture-like in his slink as he observes whatever revelry is happening on the inside. He has a unnervingly cunning look to him----his features are fox-like----thin-nosed, a slight grin peeling up towards small wisps of orangeish hair. He wears a small hat that covers most of his bush of slick, dark, and strangely curly hair, which blatantly juxtaposes itself with the chalk-white color of his face. He strolls around for several minutes, then finds the nearest empty seat and sinks himself down, brusquely rapping his nails upon the wood for a drink.

"Order?" he calls loudly, in an accent not so distinct from a goodfella. "I'd love a drink, if you please."

This guy but a bit creepier

 A wooden mug floats through the air and sets itself in front of him, with orange liquid inside of it. 

"Ugh. Orange?" He sneers at the drink, then pushes it away. "I only take my drinks blue and cold, thank you." 

 The cup tips over in his hand, spilling hot orange liquid all over it. Seems the tavern has a strange sense of humor. 

He lets out a scalding, high-pitched scream as the liquid begins to bubble on his hand. "Aah! Help!" His eyes snap shut as he tries to block out the pain, but his hand begins to...melt? Small scales appear underneath his skin for a split second, and then the liquid disappears and all is back to normal, his hand unblemished as he looks around at those staring. 

"Who're you all looking at, punks?"

Quote from 50thAltOfBananer >>

Quote from Sablemeerkat676 >>

“personally I’ve had enough adventure for one lifetime.”

 “Well I haven’t. Been cooped up in the heavens my whole life, and the second I run away, I get stuck here.”

 “Wait wait wait back up a second the heavens?!?!”

Quote from Wes__ >>

Quote from 50thAltOfBananer >>

Quote from Wes__ >>

Quote from 50thAltOfBananer >>

Quote from Wes__ >>

*Oh, man, it's here! I now have a place for all my lost OC souls that deserve homes (in the tavern's basement, of course, in very small pint glasses...).*

A tall, finely-dressed man stalks the perimeter of the tavern, vulture-like in his slink as he observes whatever revelry is happening on the inside. He has a unnervingly cunning look to him----his features are fox-like----thin-nosed, a slight grin peeling up towards small wisps of orangeish hair. He wears a small hat that covers most of his bush of slick, dark, and strangely curly hair, which blatantly juxtaposes itself with the chalk-white color of his face. He strolls around for several minutes, then finds the nearest empty seat and sinks himself down, brusquely rapping his nails upon the wood for a drink.

"Order?" he calls loudly, in an accent not so distinct from a goodfella. "I'd love a drink, if you please."

This guy but a bit creepier

 A wooden mug floats through the air and sets itself in front of him, with orange liquid inside of it. 

"Ugh. Orange?" He sneers at the drink, then pushes it away. "I only take my drinks blue and cold, thank you." 

 The cup tips over in his hand, spilling hot orange liquid all over it. Seems the tavern has a strange sense of humor. 

He lets out a scalding, high-pitched scream as the liquid begins to bubble on his hand. "Aah! Help!" His eyes snap shut as he tries to block out the pain, but his hand begins to...melt? Small scales appear underneath his skin for a split second, and then the liquid disappears and all is back to normal, his hand unblemished as he looks around at those staring. 

"Who're you all looking at, punks?"

 He hears a chuckle from the entrance, as Emrys leans against the door, laughing.

Quote from Sablemeerkat676 >>

Quote from 50thAltOfBananer >>

Quote from Sablemeerkat676 >>

“personally I’ve had enough adventure for one lifetime.”

 “Well I haven’t. Been cooped up in the heavens my whole life, and the second I run away, I get stuck here.”

 “Wait wait wait back up a second the heavens?!?!”

 “The sky. Heavens. Up there. Except not here there.”

“What?”

Quote from Sablemeerkat676 >>

“What?”

 “Like… up in the sky. In my home world. There was a palace up there? All floaty? Bird wing people?”

“The Elemental Plane of Air?”

Quote from Sablemeerkat676 >>

“The Elemental Plane of Air?”

 “No! Oh-they were called angels. Yep. Angels. That give you a clue?”

“Yes”

Quote from Sablemeerkat676 >>

“Yes”

 “Why do you even care so much? I just wanna help you out, doesn’t matter where I come from.”

“Because I have this thing called trust issues.”