It's nighttime in the City. Not that it makes much of a difference. The moon sits mid-wane above the shadowed skyscrapers, like the heavy-lidded eye of a lazy god, leaving its subjects unwatched, unprotected, as it drifts away into a dreamless sleep. Moths left it alone, at least. Guess they don't like the taste of green cheese. Its meager beams sweep through the streets, dipping into the cracks between buildings, tasting the cobbles every now and then. Here in the Narrows, however, they don't even reach halfway down, the tightly packed buildings squeezing them to death like a wealthy woman's corset. The streetlights pick up the slack, arc lights no brighter than a candle silhouetting the street with a dim half-glow. It's more of a gesture than anything, the merest suggestion of illumination, as if to tell the moths that we won't let the light die without a fight. They, of course, are as silent as ever.
These luminant politics, however, are of no concern to the three of you at this moment. Tonight you find yourself in Rooney's Saloon, the only half-decent watering hole this side of the river. Of course, if the Ministry comes snooping around, the strongest thing they're selling *is* water. And coffee, technically, but nobody comes to Rooney's for the cafe topside. They come for what they got downstairs: A glass of whiskey, a hell of a show, and, through a passageway linking his basement and Rooney's, access to the magical wares of one Kellen "Fingers" Turen.
Down here, the lights blaze bright, with twenty feet of dirt between them and the moths, and the music plays twice as loud. People from all walks of life share a drink by the bar, or in the more familiarly shadowed booths in the corner, right under the Ministry's nose. The three of you find yourselves here tonight, whether it's for business or pleasure, enjoying one last drink before you close out another day in this dismal city.
Feel free to introduce your characters, your current actions, and what brings you to Rooney's Saloon tonight!
(The layout of the area you find yourselves in is as follows: Above, there is the cafe portion of Rooney's Saloon, and right next door is the legitimate part of Kellen's business. Both have basements, leading to Kellen's magical warehouse, and Rooney's speakeasy. The two basements are linked by a passage probably carved out by Kellen at some point, through which customers can browse Kellen's wares, and to serve as a potential escape route if the Ministry busts the place.)
(Feel free to ask questions about the area, its inhabitants, etc.)
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"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
In a dark corner of the establishment sits a human man, alone. If anybody were to notice him, they'd see that he's fairly well-dressed, but the shadowy nature of his clothes tends to let him avoid such attention. He puffs on a cigarette while nursing a glass of whiskey on the rocks, drinking slowly to ensure his head is clear. The last thing he wants to be while on a job is intoxicated. His gaze makes a cautious line towards two men sitting at the bar, whispering to one another like stray cats in an alleyway. With how loud the music is, not a creature alive could hear what they are saying at such a distance, but the man pays them close attention nonetheless.
Anyone in Rooney's who is familiar with Ray Phoebus- or Nyx, as many like to call him- can tell that he is a craftsman working his trade. The only thing remotely leisurely about his business here is the chance to take in some Light, but even that pleasure is stunted by his need for the potential perpetrators he's watching to be unaware of his presence. Although his focus is concentrated on his marks, he also keeps small tabs on most others in the saloon. He tries to notice which customers are here only to waste away until the moon leaves a barren sky, as well as which have more important business to tend to within the speakeasy. For idle practice, if nothing else.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny. Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
Kellen sits in his usual booth, back to the corner, puffing contentedly on his pipe. He lowers a jewelers loupe over one eye and bends his head back down to the task in front of him, manipulating a small screwdriver and pliers into a tiny clockwork object fashioned, quite unexpectedly, as a moth. An open book, filled with scribbled notes and drawings, lies on the table next to a glass with two fingers of whiskey.
Kellen moves his head to the beat of the music as he works. His relationship with Rooney was mutually beneficial, as most good relationships were. It gets him out of the workshop and a chance to enjoy the finer things in life which were in short supply these days. Occasionally, he raises his eyes to sweep the room, looking for regulars that might bring him a bit of news or for new faces that might bring him a bit of work. He notices Nyx in another corner of the bar and wonders idly who he is hunting tonight, but he pays more attention to his work than anyone in the room.
Satisfied at last, he lays his tools down and winds up the clockwork, watching as it flaps its wings and crawls across the table. He looks up to see if anyone is as impressed with his cleverness as he is.
She wasn't in the seat at the table next to him the last time he looked up, but she was there now, her eyes glinting with mirth as she watched the little clockwork moth move. Maggwyn takes a long pull from the glass in front of her, a darker liquid then Kellen is drinking, then takes a quick look around. Not a bad crowd for the night, she muses. Must be a decent show tonight. She turns back to Kellen, "Do you know who's on stage tonight? Hope its at least a bit entertaining, lost a mark today, could use a bit cheering up."
The rare double horned tiefling with long wavy gray hair wore her typical tight black pants, shirt and heels. She was wearing her black gloves tonight as well, Kellen saw as she tucked her wild mane behind an ear.
"So how's business for you? Things going well?" as she slides into the booth with him, taking a closer look at his gadgets. "I see Nyx over there in the corner, know what he is up to lately?" She takes another drink and looks to the stage.
“Bloody hells”Kellen jumps slightly as the Tiefling joins him at the table “Well, hullo, Maggs.”He gives the newcomer a sideways, suspicious glance and quickly closes his book and tucks into an interior pocket of his leather duster. He looks at the clockwork moth "This, it's nothing. Something to pass the time." He points his pipe at the stage “Some new act, not sure where Rooney dug them up. Probably trying to make their big break to the city center. Not bad. The half-elf is a real crooner, has some pipes.”
Kellen lowers his voice slightly as she asks about Nyx, you can never tell who is listening and it pays to be discreet, even in Rooney's. Especially in Rooney's “Yeah, I saw him earlier. Not sure what he has going on, always chasing some jilted lover or another.” He settles back in his chair and gives Maggs a long look. “Business is good, but always looking for more. So, It’s been awhile. Lost a mark, huh? Is that what brings you out tonight?”
Maggwyn smirks as he slides his book away as soon as she joins him but doesn't say anything. "Hmm... a crooner is always enjoyable, I haven't been here in a beat, looking forward to it."
She relaxes some and answers, "Yes, lost him in a back alley a couple blocks away, preposterous with the moon out and all? I haven't lost a mark in ages. Must be losing my touch." she grins a sly grin as she brings her glass up to her mouth again. Finishing it, she puts it back on the table upside down.
She looks around and sees if she can catch Nyx's eye, see if he wants to join them as well with a subtle head nod.
As the men that Nyx is watching finish their drinks, conclude their business, and leave the bar, Nyx himself becomes more relaxed and begins to do the same. However, before he reaches the door leading to the topside of Rooney's Saloon, he notices someone nodding him over to a booth. He changes his course inconspicuously, and takes a seat alongside the familiar gnome and tiefling.
"Fingers. Maggs." He greets each of his acquaintances at the table with a tip of his hat. "Another new invention, Fingers?" He watches the moth crawl across the table in no particular direction. Out of curiosity, he flicks open his lighter and puts the flame in front of the clockwork lepidopteran, seeing how much the creature emulates its horrid inspiration.
"Anyways, to business. I assume there's a reason you called me over?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny. Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
“Nyx”Kellen nods and raises his glass in salute to the man before taking another drink and returning it to the table. He watches as Nyx slides into his seat. The band starts another set and the singer starts in on a song about juggling two lovers. The music is loud and upbeat, drowning out the conversation of the surrounding tables and bringing the patrons to a different world than the dark, soulless one above.
Kellen shrugs as the clockwork moth ignores the flame. The wings slow their beat and the creature shudders to a stop as its energy is spent. “Just a toy, a distraction. Nothing special. For that, you have to pay extra.” he adds with a grin. Kellen nods toward the door where the two men were leaving “Always to business with you. Working anything special tonight? Maggs already let hers get away.” He can’t help but to give the tiefling a hard time when he gets the chance.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Maggwyn traces the bottom of her glass with her gloved fingertip as Nyx joins them at the table. She then rolls her eyes, "Always about business, isn't it Mr. Phoebus? We just saw that the two you had your eyes on left so thought we'd see if you wanted some company."
She listens to the crooner for a moment, closing her eyes and letting her thoughts drift. After a moment though, she keeps her eyes close, but she listens to the room around her, the music is loud, but she just checks to see if there is anything a buzz...
Perception 16
When she hears Kellen's quip, she smiles then opens her eyes. "I didn't let him get away, I let him keep my new necklace for a few more days. Call it a favor from me to him." She sighs and looks around to see if a cocktail waitress was working tonight or if she'd have to saunter up to the bar herself for another.
Nyx draws the lighter away from the false moth, ponders its flame for a beat, and then closes it and puts it back in his pocket. "I can't say I'm disappointed. We got enough of the damn things made of flesh, no need to add metal ones to their numbers. Stick a fresh coat of paint on it, though, and I bet even a mindless decoy could have some uses."
He shifts his gaze towards the bar stools where the men he were watching sat, destined to be snatched up soon. "Those two were nothing special. Criminals planning to do crime. Only problem is I couldn't tell what crime they're planning to do, or if it's the one my client's worried about. People should really use more clearer statements when they discuss illegal activities. And enunciate, too. Sure as hell'd make my job a lot easier."
He looks around at the empty glasses on the table. "Nothing I'll have to worry about for a bit, though, which I guess means I've got some time to kill. And if it's time you need killing, Rooney's the place to be. Would you fine people care for another round?" Nyx takes the glasses and makes his way towards the bar to get refills of what Maggs and Fingers were having, as well as a whiskey for himself.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny. Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
As Nyx approaches the bar, the joint's titular Rod Rooney standing behind it catches his eye and gives him a wink. The halfling deftly hops off of the rolling ladder at the bar, and kicks off as he mounts another behind it, scaling a few rungs as the ladder flies in order to snatch up a fresh bottle of whiskey. Uncorking it with a single hand, he produces three glasses from below the bar and begins filling them up. One, two, and—
Before the third glass is even half-filled, all three of them go crashing to the floor, along with the bottle of whiskey and Rod Rooney himself, as the entire establishment is shook with a massive explosion, seemingly originating from someplace up above. Panic sets in almost immediately. Half the joint starts screaming about the ministry, trying their damnedest to hide their wands, their booze, and their selves. The other half just screams about nothing in particular, throwing themselves onto the nearest person and sobbing for their life. Kellen and Maggs' table is upturned as a scar-ridden half-dwarf attempts to hide his impressive bulk underneath it, and hardly fitting half of it. Nyx is almost knocked to the ground by the half-elven singer, who immediately bolts for the exit. In short, it's utter pandemonium in the span of about three seconds, and nobody has half a clue why.
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"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
As chaos breaks out within the speakeasy, time seems to slow down for Nyx. His eyes dart around the room like lightning, assessing the damage and deciding how best to handle the hectic situation. Within moments, he jumps into action.
He says aloud a string of magical words, making patters within the air with one hand and using the other to touch something in his ammunition pouch. Once the spell is finished, he takes out a rope and tosses it towards the 12-foot-high ceiling. As the rope twists through the air, gildings rapidly grow along it in ivy patterns, giving off a magical glow to add to the lights in the saloon. Instead of hitting the top of the room as its trajectory would suggest, it stops just short, hanging on the air like a bug caught in an invisible spiderweb.
Nyx leaps up and rapidly climbs to the top of the suspended rope. Once he reaches the top, he seems to completely disappear, as if walking through a door that isn't there into a room that cannot be. After a few moments, something reappears through the extraplanar gateway that proves Nyx is still present; the barrel of Daybreak, his magnum with a golden floral design much like the one still growing along the enchanted rope. It points straight towards the entrance to the speakeasy.
(OoC: The spell Nyx casted is rope trick. One of my favorites!)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny. Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
Maggs immediately jumps to her feet as the explosion rocks the joint. She stays where she is trying to understand what is going on before making hasty movements. As their table is overturned, she moves out from their area in annoyance then watches something amazing happen...
Nyx disappears up a rope that just hangs in mid-air. Her mouth drops open while she studies the situation, the chaos around her not phasing her, and as the pistol reappears at the top of the glowing, ivy covered, gravity defying rope, she grabs Fingers hand and jerks him along with her, "Come on! I don't want to find out what the hell is going on here without some good cover. Looks like Nyx has it!"
She pulls Kellen to the bottom of the rope and then shimmies on up, figuring the gnome can figure the rest out for themselves. She keeps climbing till she runs into Nyx.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Kellen flinches again as the explosion rattles the place. He springs to his feet cursing as the dwarf crashes into the table, overturning it and sending the clockwork moth tumbling to the floor, its wings giving a final beat as it is crushed in the pandemonium. He pulls away as Maggs drags him to the rope Nyx disappeared up. “Not on your life, sister. No way I am climbing that.” he calls as she climbs up the rope.
Instead, he moves toward the secret door concealing the tunnel back to his workshop, fighting the crowds, and pauses there before opening it. “Are you alright, Rooney? What in the bloody hells happened?” Kellen looks up at the ceiling, trying to determine the cause of the blast and if the ceiling was in any danger of collapsing.
Nyx and Maggs wait out in the rope trick, the hanging bit of cord releasing a dim glow that is lost in the electric lights of the speakeasy. As they do, Kellen pushes through the crowds and helps up the collapsed Rooney, who has a few nasty cuts on his face and hands from the broken glass, but overall looks to be fine.
The mustachioed halfling plucks a whiskey-soaked shard from his arm and winces. At least the wounds are already sterilized. "Shit, Kel, I couldn't tell you. Something went boom, then pandemonium. I tell you what, we gotta get out of here. Thats the safest place to be right now, looks to me."
Kellen looks up, trying to find any telltale signs of a soon-to-collapse roof, but thankfully can see nothing. Of course, he's not entirely relieved, as the half-elven singer stumbles down the stairs, coughing and crooning an entirely different song. One that goes a little bit like "Fire, fire!"
Rooney glances over at Kellen. "Like I said. Safest place to be."
And he's right. Cause here in the City, people know that a fire's more than just a fire. A fire means light. Lots of it. And light means moths. And moths don't give a damn if their wings are burning, they'll chew holes through you anyways. In all likelihood, the air above Rooney's is already swarming with them, and it's not long before some begin to find their way downstairs, if the smoke doesn't get there first.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Kellen helps Rooney up to his feet and looks back at the entrance as the cries of ‘fire’ start to fill the place. “Damnation. Alright then, back to my place. But don’t touch anything!” Kellen moves to the wall and throws open the secret door, calling up the rope where he saw Maggs and Nyx disappear. “C’mon you two, we are getting out of this place before it comes down around us.” Kellen leads Rooney through the opening, hoping the other two follow. It is a short passageway, leading to a workshop with several tables full of beakers, vials, powders, clockwork gears, notes and assorted unfinished projects. It is a mess, but an organized mess to Kellen who knows where everything is. "We can hole up here until the heat, and the light, dies down, or we can head out the back door."
"Dammit. New plan." Nyx jumps out of the hole in space at the top of the rope, becoming fully visible once again. He encourages Maggs to follow and then gives the rope a strong tug at its base, causing all of the glowing gildings that had grown along the rope to disappear and the rope to fall to the ground.
He quickly sprints over to behind the bar, where he knows a switch is located. Before he presses it, he fires Daybreak into the ceiling to draw the room's attention from away from the chaos and towards himself. "Moths are coming! Swallow your pride, extinguish the Lights, leave before they swarm. No pushing, no shoving, no heroes." He sighs to himself and flicks off the switch.
Seeing Fingers going into his workshop, he gives chase into the scattered laboratory. "We're not going to sit here and play cards until the moths find their way down. Leaving now is dangerous, but leaving any later will be a death sentence. Now, where's your ladder up?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny. Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
(I think this would most fall under intimidation, because it's essentially communicating information through shouting and guns, so roll me intimidation to see just how much people listen to Nyx.)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
(By the way, if it's not a problem, I generally find it easier to roll on character sheets. You can always check my rolls in the game log.)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny. Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
There is initially a rumbling of yells above the cacophony when Nyx fires, but it then dies down, as it appears people have gotten the message. Nothing like the fear of death to shut people up. There is another rumbling when the light switch is thrown, and most of the lights go down. However, the lights on the stage are still up. One dragonborn, the band's bassist, moves backstage and cries "Blackout!" before flipping them off. Someone in the darkness responds with "Thank you, blackout," because even in the most dire situations proper stage technology precautions should always be followed. There is a dull red glow visible from the stairs, as the cafe above assumedly burns, and the smell of smoke begins to fill the room.
Kellen's workshop is filled with assorted half-finished projects, some of which are giving off a light glow. There are several heavy black curtains around the workstations, to be drawn whenever Kellen is working on some more powerful and light-giving. There is a ladder on one side of the room, as Nyx mentioned, with a heavy metal hatch above.
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"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
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It's nighttime in the City. Not that it makes much of a difference. The moon sits mid-wane above the shadowed skyscrapers, like the heavy-lidded eye of a lazy god, leaving its subjects unwatched, unprotected, as it drifts away into a dreamless sleep. Moths left it alone, at least. Guess they don't like the taste of green cheese. Its meager beams sweep through the streets, dipping into the cracks between buildings, tasting the cobbles every now and then. Here in the Narrows, however, they don't even reach halfway down, the tightly packed buildings squeezing them to death like a wealthy woman's corset. The streetlights pick up the slack, arc lights no brighter than a candle silhouetting the street with a dim half-glow. It's more of a gesture than anything, the merest suggestion of illumination, as if to tell the moths that we won't let the light die without a fight. They, of course, are as silent as ever.
These luminant politics, however, are of no concern to the three of you at this moment. Tonight you find yourself in Rooney's Saloon, the only half-decent watering hole this side of the river. Of course, if the Ministry comes snooping around, the strongest thing they're selling *is* water. And coffee, technically, but nobody comes to Rooney's for the cafe topside. They come for what they got downstairs: A glass of whiskey, a hell of a show, and, through a passageway linking his basement and Rooney's, access to the magical wares of one Kellen "Fingers" Turen.
Down here, the lights blaze bright, with twenty feet of dirt between them and the moths, and the music plays twice as loud. People from all walks of life share a drink by the bar, or in the more familiarly shadowed booths in the corner, right under the Ministry's nose. The three of you find yourselves here tonight, whether it's for business or pleasure, enjoying one last drink before you close out another day in this dismal city.
Feel free to introduce your characters, your current actions, and what brings you to Rooney's Saloon tonight!
(The layout of the area you find yourselves in is as follows: Above, there is the cafe portion of Rooney's Saloon, and right next door is the legitimate part of Kellen's business. Both have basements, leading to Kellen's magical warehouse, and Rooney's speakeasy. The two basements are linked by a passage probably carved out by Kellen at some point, through which customers can browse Kellen's wares, and to serve as a potential escape route if the Ministry busts the place.)
(Feel free to ask questions about the area, its inhabitants, etc.)
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
In a dark corner of the establishment sits a human man, alone. If anybody were to notice him, they'd see that he's fairly well-dressed, but the shadowy nature of his clothes tends to let him avoid such attention. He puffs on a cigarette while nursing a glass of whiskey on the rocks, drinking slowly to ensure his head is clear. The last thing he wants to be while on a job is intoxicated. His gaze makes a cautious line towards two men sitting at the bar, whispering to one another like stray cats in an alleyway. With how loud the music is, not a creature alive could hear what they are saying at such a distance, but the man pays them close attention nonetheless.
Anyone in Rooney's who is familiar with Ray Phoebus- or Nyx, as many like to call him- can tell that he is a craftsman working his trade. The only thing remotely leisurely about his business here is the chance to take in some Light, but even that pleasure is stunted by his need for the potential perpetrators he's watching to be unaware of his presence. Although his focus is concentrated on his marks, he also keeps small tabs on most others in the saloon. He tries to notice which customers are here only to waste away until the moon leaves a barren sky, as well as which have more important business to tend to within the speakeasy. For idle practice, if nothing else.
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny.
Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
Kellen sits in his usual booth, back to the corner, puffing contentedly on his pipe. He lowers a jewelers loupe over one eye and bends his head back down to the task in front of him, manipulating a small screwdriver and pliers into a tiny clockwork object fashioned, quite unexpectedly, as a moth. An open book, filled with scribbled notes and drawings, lies on the table next to a glass with two fingers of whiskey.
Kellen moves his head to the beat of the music as he works. His relationship with Rooney was mutually beneficial, as most good relationships were. It gets him out of the workshop and a chance to enjoy the finer things in life which were in short supply these days. Occasionally, he raises his eyes to sweep the room, looking for regulars that might bring him a bit of news or for new faces that might bring him a bit of work. He notices Nyx in another corner of the bar and wonders idly who he is hunting tonight, but he pays more attention to his work than anyone in the room.
Satisfied at last, he lays his tools down and winds up the clockwork, watching as it flaps its wings and crawls across the table. He looks up to see if anyone is as impressed with his cleverness as he is.
"Now that is quite the toy you've got there."
She wasn't in the seat at the table next to him the last time he looked up, but she was there now, her eyes glinting with mirth as she watched the little clockwork moth move. Maggwyn takes a long pull from the glass in front of her, a darker liquid then Kellen is drinking, then takes a quick look around. Not a bad crowd for the night, she muses. Must be a decent show tonight. She turns back to Kellen, "Do you know who's on stage tonight? Hope its at least a bit entertaining, lost a mark today, could use a bit cheering up."
The rare double horned tiefling with long wavy gray hair wore her typical tight black pants, shirt and heels. She was wearing her black gloves tonight as well, Kellen saw as she tucked her wild mane behind an ear.
"So how's business for you? Things going well?" as she slides into the booth with him, taking a closer look at his gadgets. "I see Nyx over there in the corner, know what he is up to lately?" She takes another drink and looks to the stage.
(Maggs)
“Bloody hells” Kellen jumps slightly as the Tiefling joins him at the table “Well, hullo, Maggs.” He gives the newcomer a sideways, suspicious glance and quickly closes his book and tucks into an interior pocket of his leather duster. He looks at the clockwork moth "This, it's nothing. Something to pass the time." He points his pipe at the stage “Some new act, not sure where Rooney dug them up. Probably trying to make their big break to the city center. Not bad. The half-elf is a real crooner, has some pipes.”
Kellen lowers his voice slightly as she asks about Nyx, you can never tell who is listening and it pays to be discreet, even in Rooney's. Especially in Rooney's “Yeah, I saw him earlier. Not sure what he has going on, always chasing some jilted lover or another.” He settles back in his chair and gives Maggs a long look. “Business is good, but always looking for more. So, It’s been awhile. Lost a mark, huh? Is that what brings you out tonight?”
Maggwyn smirks as he slides his book away as soon as she joins him but doesn't say anything. "Hmm... a crooner is always enjoyable, I haven't been here in a beat, looking forward to it."
She relaxes some and answers, "Yes, lost him in a back alley a couple blocks away, preposterous with the moon out and all? I haven't lost a mark in ages. Must be losing my touch." she grins a sly grin as she brings her glass up to her mouth again. Finishing it, she puts it back on the table upside down.
She looks around and sees if she can catch Nyx's eye, see if he wants to join them as well with a subtle head nod.
As the men that Nyx is watching finish their drinks, conclude their business, and leave the bar, Nyx himself becomes more relaxed and begins to do the same. However, before he reaches the door leading to the topside of Rooney's Saloon, he notices someone nodding him over to a booth. He changes his course inconspicuously, and takes a seat alongside the familiar gnome and tiefling.
"Fingers. Maggs." He greets each of his acquaintances at the table with a tip of his hat. "Another new invention, Fingers?" He watches the moth crawl across the table in no particular direction. Out of curiosity, he flicks open his lighter and puts the flame in front of the clockwork lepidopteran, seeing how much the creature emulates its horrid inspiration.
"Anyways, to business. I assume there's a reason you called me over?"
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny.
Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
“Nyx” Kellen nods and raises his glass in salute to the man before taking another drink and returning it to the table. He watches as Nyx slides into his seat. The band starts another set and the singer starts in on a song about juggling two lovers. The music is loud and upbeat, drowning out the conversation of the surrounding tables and bringing the patrons to a different world than the dark, soulless one above.
Kellen shrugs as the clockwork moth ignores the flame. The wings slow their beat and the creature shudders to a stop as its energy is spent. “Just a toy, a distraction. Nothing special. For that, you have to pay extra.” he adds with a grin. Kellen nods toward the door where the two men were leaving “Always to business with you. Working anything special tonight? Maggs already let hers get away.” He can’t help but to give the tiefling a hard time when he gets the chance.
Maggwyn traces the bottom of her glass with her gloved fingertip as Nyx joins them at the table. She then rolls her eyes, "Always about business, isn't it Mr. Phoebus? We just saw that the two you had your eyes on left so thought we'd see if you wanted some company."
She listens to the crooner for a moment, closing her eyes and letting her thoughts drift. After a moment though, she keeps her eyes close, but she listens to the room around her, the music is loud, but she just checks to see if there is anything a buzz...
Perception 16
When she hears Kellen's quip, she smiles then opens her eyes. "I didn't let him get away, I let him keep my new necklace for a few more days. Call it a favor from me to him." She sighs and looks around to see if a cocktail waitress was working tonight or if she'd have to saunter up to the bar herself for another.
Nyx draws the lighter away from the false moth, ponders its flame for a beat, and then closes it and puts it back in his pocket. "I can't say I'm disappointed. We got enough of the damn things made of flesh, no need to add metal ones to their numbers. Stick a fresh coat of paint on it, though, and I bet even a mindless decoy could have some uses."
He shifts his gaze towards the bar stools where the men he were watching sat, destined to be snatched up soon. "Those two were nothing special. Criminals planning to do crime. Only problem is I couldn't tell what crime they're planning to do, or if it's the one my client's worried about. People should really use more clearer statements when they discuss illegal activities. And enunciate, too. Sure as hell'd make my job a lot easier."
He looks around at the empty glasses on the table. "Nothing I'll have to worry about for a bit, though, which I guess means I've got some time to kill. And if it's time you need killing, Rooney's the place to be. Would you fine people care for another round?" Nyx takes the glasses and makes his way towards the bar to get refills of what Maggs and Fingers were having, as well as a whiskey for himself.
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny.
Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
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As Nyx approaches the bar, the joint's titular Rod Rooney standing behind it catches his eye and gives him a wink. The halfling deftly hops off of the rolling ladder at the bar, and kicks off as he mounts another behind it, scaling a few rungs as the ladder flies in order to snatch up a fresh bottle of whiskey. Uncorking it with a single hand, he produces three glasses from below the bar and begins filling them up. One, two, and—
Before the third glass is even half-filled, all three of them go crashing to the floor, along with the bottle of whiskey and Rod Rooney himself, as the entire establishment is shook with a massive explosion, seemingly originating from someplace up above. Panic sets in almost immediately. Half the joint starts screaming about the ministry, trying their damnedest to hide their wands, their booze, and their selves. The other half just screams about nothing in particular, throwing themselves onto the nearest person and sobbing for their life. Kellen and Maggs' table is upturned as a scar-ridden half-dwarf attempts to hide his impressive bulk underneath it, and hardly fitting half of it. Nyx is almost knocked to the ground by the half-elven singer, who immediately bolts for the exit. In short, it's utter pandemonium in the span of about three seconds, and nobody has half a clue why.
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
As chaos breaks out within the speakeasy, time seems to slow down for Nyx. His eyes dart around the room like lightning, assessing the damage and deciding how best to handle the hectic situation. Within moments, he jumps into action.
He says aloud a string of magical words, making patters within the air with one hand and using the other to touch something in his ammunition pouch. Once the spell is finished, he takes out a rope and tosses it towards the 12-foot-high ceiling. As the rope twists through the air, gildings rapidly grow along it in ivy patterns, giving off a magical glow to add to the lights in the saloon. Instead of hitting the top of the room as its trajectory would suggest, it stops just short, hanging on the air like a bug caught in an invisible spiderweb.
Nyx leaps up and rapidly climbs to the top of the suspended rope. Once he reaches the top, he seems to completely disappear, as if walking through a door that isn't there into a room that cannot be. After a few moments, something reappears through the extraplanar gateway that proves Nyx is still present; the barrel of Daybreak, his magnum with a golden floral design much like the one still growing along the enchanted rope. It points straight towards the entrance to the speakeasy.
(OoC: The spell Nyx casted is rope trick. One of my favorites!)
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny.
Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
(I've never seen that one used before! Nice!)
Maggs immediately jumps to her feet as the explosion rocks the joint. She stays where she is trying to understand what is going on before making hasty movements. As their table is overturned, she moves out from their area in annoyance then watches something amazing happen...
Nyx disappears up a rope that just hangs in mid-air. Her mouth drops open while she studies the situation, the chaos around her not phasing her, and as the pistol reappears at the top of the glowing, ivy covered, gravity defying rope, she grabs Fingers hand and jerks him along with her, "Come on! I don't want to find out what the hell is going on here without some good cover. Looks like Nyx has it!"
She pulls Kellen to the bottom of the rope and then shimmies on up, figuring the gnome can figure the rest out for themselves. She keeps climbing till she runs into Nyx.
Kellen flinches again as the explosion rattles the place. He springs to his feet cursing as the dwarf crashes into the table, overturning it and sending the clockwork moth tumbling to the floor, its wings giving a final beat as it is crushed in the pandemonium. He pulls away as Maggs drags him to the rope Nyx disappeared up. “Not on your life, sister. No way I am climbing that.” he calls as she climbs up the rope.
Instead, he moves toward the secret door concealing the tunnel back to his workshop, fighting the crowds, and pauses there before opening it. “Are you alright, Rooney? What in the bloody hells happened?” Kellen looks up at the ceiling, trying to determine the cause of the blast and if the ceiling was in any danger of collapsing.
Investigation: 18.
.
Nyx and Maggs wait out in the rope trick, the hanging bit of cord releasing a dim glow that is lost in the electric lights of the speakeasy. As they do, Kellen pushes through the crowds and helps up the collapsed Rooney, who has a few nasty cuts on his face and hands from the broken glass, but overall looks to be fine.
The mustachioed halfling plucks a whiskey-soaked shard from his arm and winces. At least the wounds are already sterilized. "Shit, Kel, I couldn't tell you. Something went boom, then pandemonium. I tell you what, we gotta get out of here. Thats the safest place to be right now, looks to me."
Kellen looks up, trying to find any telltale signs of a soon-to-collapse roof, but thankfully can see nothing. Of course, he's not entirely relieved, as the half-elven singer stumbles down the stairs, coughing and crooning an entirely different song. One that goes a little bit like "Fire, fire!"
Rooney glances over at Kellen. "Like I said. Safest place to be."
And he's right. Cause here in the City, people know that a fire's more than just a fire. A fire means light. Lots of it. And light means moths. And moths don't give a damn if their wings are burning, they'll chew holes through you anyways. In all likelihood, the air above Rooney's is already swarming with them, and it's not long before some begin to find their way downstairs, if the smoke doesn't get there first.
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Kellen helps Rooney up to his feet and looks back at the entrance as the cries of ‘fire’ start to fill the place. “Damnation. Alright then, back to my place. But don’t touch anything!” Kellen moves to the wall and throws open the secret door, calling up the rope where he saw Maggs and Nyx disappear. “C’mon you two, we are getting out of this place before it comes down around us.” Kellen leads Rooney through the opening, hoping the other two follow. It is a short passageway, leading to a workshop with several tables full of beakers, vials, powders, clockwork gears, notes and assorted unfinished projects. It is a mess, but an organized mess to Kellen who knows where everything is. "We can hole up here until the heat, and the light, dies down, or we can head out the back door."
"Dammit. New plan." Nyx jumps out of the hole in space at the top of the rope, becoming fully visible once again. He encourages Maggs to follow and then gives the rope a strong tug at its base, causing all of the glowing gildings that had grown along the rope to disappear and the rope to fall to the ground.
He quickly sprints over to behind the bar, where he knows a switch is located. Before he presses it, he fires Daybreak into the ceiling to draw the room's attention from away from the chaos and towards himself. "Moths are coming! Swallow your pride, extinguish the Lights, leave before they swarm. No pushing, no shoving, no heroes." He sighs to himself and flicks off the switch.
Seeing Fingers going into his workshop, he gives chase into the scattered laboratory. "We're not going to sit here and play cards until the moths find their way down. Leaving now is dangerous, but leaving any later will be a death sentence. Now, where's your ladder up?"
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny.
Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
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(I think this would most fall under intimidation, because it's essentially communicating information through shouting and guns, so roll me intimidation to see just how much people listen to Nyx.)
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Intimidation: 17 (18 - 1)
(By the way, if it's not a problem, I generally find it easier to roll on character sheets. You can always check my rolls in the game log.)
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny.
Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
There is initially a rumbling of yells above the cacophony when Nyx fires, but it then dies down, as it appears people have gotten the message. Nothing like the fear of death to shut people up. There is another rumbling when the light switch is thrown, and most of the lights go down. However, the lights on the stage are still up. One dragonborn, the band's bassist, moves backstage and cries "Blackout!" before flipping them off. Someone in the darkness responds with "Thank you, blackout," because even in the most dire situations proper stage technology precautions should always be followed. There is a dull red glow visible from the stairs, as the cafe above assumedly burns, and the smell of smoke begins to fill the room.
Kellen's workshop is filled with assorted half-finished projects, some of which are giving off a light glow. There are several heavy black curtains around the workstations, to be drawn whenever Kellen is working on some more powerful and light-giving. There is a ladder on one side of the room, as Nyx mentioned, with a heavy metal hatch above.
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."