Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived The Penance Tavern

Gabrielle walked over to the sink and shifted her gaze towards the sinks. Turning on the water she washed her face as much as possible before slowly bringing her head up towards the mirror. Shrieking a little and backing away with a hand against her mouth to keep from making too much noise. She just stared at herself in shock, unable to believe that the person looking back at her was indeed her.

“Look like shit…” Gabby frowned, tugging at her dingy hair and staring at her yes that looked dull and lifeless. Even her body was gaunt and not at all like what it was when she modeled. She looked almost like she did when had been rescued from Benson, but without the drug addiction. Sighing, she just shook her head and leaned over against the sink, resting her head against the mirror.

“Enough.” She shook her head before leaning back shutting off the water. Snarling, the teenager brought back her fist before swinging it forward, slamming it hard into the mirror. Hard enough to break the glass and send shards into the sink and onto the ground.
 
"I'll see about getting you something to eat," Randin nodded, "it's three credits for the cocktail - don't worry about paying till you've had your fill. As for rooms..." He winced. "...sorry. It's a tavern, not a hotel. Jegun puts me up in storage and it's cramped in there as it is. You're better off finding a place nearby." He nodded to the doors. "Be careful out there, though. Undermarket is a nasty place. Penance is about the safest joint in the whole neighborhood."

The barkeep looked back at Girania. If there was something suspicious about her, Randin wasn't picking up on it. Either Alie was being cynical or Randin was being naive. Probably the later.

"Scaring bad guys, huh? Can't say that's my forte," he shook his head, "Jegun and his boys could probably give you a hand, if the coin was right. Me, I'm only good as a pathfinder." He shrugged. "Y'want, I could try and find you another way into the Downs? One that doesn't cross paths with thugs?" He perked a brow. "Whad'ya looking for in there, anyway? That's not the nicest part of the city."

He began to pour her a cider, when he heard something break in the lady's restroom. "Ah, hell." He set the half-filled glass on the counter. "Gimme a second."

Randin entered the bathroom to the sight of Gabby standing before a broken mirror. He sighed, folding his arms over his chest and looking at the girl with both concern and disappointment.

"...are you bleeding?" He gestured to her knuckles.
 
Gabrielle just stared at the shards for a few seconds before peering over at the door once it opened. She frowned at the sight of Randin and glanced back away again, eyes falling upon the mess of glass at her feet. Brow twitched a little at his question and it dawned on the teen that she hadn't even looked at her hand. Shifting her eyes down at her hand, Gabby exhaled deeply at the sight of blood. "Yep. I'm bleeding. I'll clean up the mess and work off what'll cost to fix the mirror... sorry." Her voice was soft and she resisted the urge to kick some of the larger pieces, hating the sound of disappointment in his voice.

"I'll go get a broom." She added, moving towards the door. "You can go back to the patrons, but probably should warn them about the mess for the moment. I just... I got angry." Despite her hand needed to be fixed up, Gabby was more concerned about the mess.
 
As she was mid sip, she heard the sounds of breaking glass, raising a single brow in curiosity as Randin excused himself. Either the girl fell into something weak or she broke something. She thought to herself, but inwardly shrugged and finished a sip. She wasn't buying the woman's story either, hell the girl's either on just being exhausted. One didn't just go into the down for no good reason. And hell, she had seen a lot of sick people and they looked better than the girl in many occasions. She ignored both situations, it wasn't of her concern unless she got drug into it.

She knew she would need to find somewhere to stay, but that didn't concern her honestly. She could handle herself with many hooligans who think they are big shots. Shit, it was how she proved to her captain that she was worth more than the spit he had spat on her boot. She had made his first man eat his own boot by breaking his leg in the scuffle to get to the captain. Captain was amused and decided if she could make a show like that against two of his other fighters, she'd be in. Sure enough, she knocked both of them cold with ease because both men underestimated how she tough she was. The captain was the only one though that knew of her little gift though.

She stretched slightly, muscles taught and surprisingly toned. She didn't honestly care to show off, in fact she wasn't. She was legitimately tired of sitting still, she wasn't used to it, captain kept them on their toes. She stood up, leaned against the bar and looked around at the sorry lot that was inhabiting the bar. She wondered honestly if there was a point to this woman down the bar from her or if she was just rude.
 
Girania wasn't quite satisfied with how busy things were, but at least it kept her from drinking the Hard Cider. As an eccentric being with a focus on fire-related abilities, alcohol and her was not quite a good mix. Though it wouldn't ignite upon contact, Girania never trained the little one's body for alcohol consumption. That meant that she couldn't hold her liquor, and that her personality would probably make things...complicated. Regardless, the nightmare was still hoping to get the woman on her side, but knew that a direct approach was not favorable. Still, that didn't mean that she wouldn't try to get her attention. The only problem is that she didn't have a chance...Well, not until the barkeep gave her one.

The man walked away after suggesting an alternate way to the Downs. One that had little chance of an encounter with any unfavorable figures. This gave her a bit of an idea. As the barkeep walked away, she spoke,

"Wha-Wait! I don't need a different...way. He's gone."

Girania let out a sigh, and 'thought' aloud.

"Now how am I going to find him..."
 
Suddenly the burners in the kitchen hissed to life, the sounds of movement coming from within before something slapped against a surface. Mok had elected to start backing up Randin, his aloofness mere watchfulness, measuring the young man's handiwork. However that was not all he was doing, as within the kitchen, emerald hands awkwardly handled a phone much smaller than the grip currently upon it, murmuring quietly to the person on the other end of the line.

In a few moments, the stove began to sizzle, the mouth-watering scent of cooking hamburger wafting from through the open window.




Around the same time, another patron walked in. This one was seemingly mundane, a man with raven hair that hung to his shoulders, a black hoodie with feather designs intricately woven into it on his back, dark, slightly baggy jeans, one leg embroidered with a devil's tail coiling around it covering his legs. His eyes were a vibrant gold, his flesh pale as though he rarely saw the sun. Though those sensitive to the presence of magic might give him a second glance, for he was not precisely as he appeared to be.

Messor glanced around the room, his gaze momentarily focusing on what appeared to be an empty corner for a second longer than necessary. Turning towards the bar, he quirked an eyebrow at the others he saw, before leaning against the worn and beaten wood.

Raising a hand with one finger pointing to get the attention of the young bartender, he offered a charming, if somewhat wicked grin, at the two female occupants near him.
 
Alie turned and glanced at the man giving him a quick run over in her mind, noting if he was an issue. She could feel her instincts saying to watch the man, but she wasn't sure exactly why. She returned to sipping on her drink. She smiled at the smell of hamburger, it did smell divine. Diet on the open sea was limited and typically not that healthy. So the idea of good food, oh it sounded amazing. She felt her stomach quietly grumble. She swallowed slightly as she began salivating at the smell.
 
"Why don't we focus on your hand first?" Randin said, "I'll clean this up. Here." He turned on the water. "Rinse out the cut, clear up any broken glass. Then wrap it up in this." He offered her a clean dishrag from his pocket. "Meet me back in storage when you're done. I'll fix you up."

Randin came back out into the bar to the scent of sizzling meat. Mok must be cooking. Good. He could use the backup. "One patty, Mok! Cheese, ketchup and pickles, if you didn't hear." He grinned. "Probably did." For a being that technically didn't have functioning ears, the wraith had keen senses.

Back at his post for a moment, the barkeep worked quickly and efficiently, pouring the rest of Girania's unfinished drink. He scraped the froth mushrooming from the top with a clean knife, tapped the glass, and slid it over to her with a nod. "Still willing to help y'out, sai. Just gimme a second to square things away around here."

He was collecting a broom and dustpan when the raven-haired patron entered the bar. A mud-blooded human to the core, Randin could detect nothing awry about the man aside from what his underdeveloped instincts told him. "Welcome to Penance, sai. What can I get you?"
 
"...alright." Gabrielle's mood was spiraling down hardcore, but she forced back her thoughts and just nodded towards Randin. Stepping over to the sink, she stuck her hand beneath the water, hissing in pain as pieces of glass were washed out. Biting hard on her bottom lip, she took the dishrag and watched as he headed back out into the bar room. Sighing, she slowly picked out the larger pieces of shards that weren't washed out before rinsing her hand again. Wrapping the hand in the cloth, she moved out of the bathroom, glancing at the newest patron, brow arching a smidgen before headed towards the bar, sniffing the air.

"Hey, Mok!" Gabby called out, grinning a little before turning and heading towards the door that would take her to the storage room. She really needed to get her shit together and stop jacking everything up. It was time to move past the trauma she suffered in her life and truly live. In truth, she was squandering the gift that Jegun had given her and she was surprised he hadn't smacked her around. Flopping down on the cot, she poked at her clothing, noticing just how ragged they were. "Damn it, you're a mess."
 
(Midterms are up, so things are busy for me. If you're waiting on my post, you might want to just continue as if Girania was just quietly drinking her cider)
 
"My usual, which is to say, bottom shelf, far right." Messor glanced at the kid, a new face. He debated not warning the lad about the particular vintage of hellbrew for a moment, before recalling the owner. Not particularly a grudge he was willing to provoke anytime soon. "Two tips for you, by the way. Iron mug, and lean away when you pour the stuff. The fumes are...strong."

A soft chuckle that wafted from the kitchen window drew an annoyed sneer, as seemingly disembodied emerald hands came bearing a platter with a steaming burger, fries, and a few spears of deep fried pickles. The wraith brought the plate down before Alie, before speaking at the newest arrival. "Good that you warned him, though nice understatement there, asshole."

"Randin, what he meant to say is really try not to breath the stuff, and if you value your throat, don't drink it. It's sulfur whiskey, and it's not remotely brewed for mortals." The deep, gravelly voice seemed to emanate somewhere above the massive green paws, subtly indicating that the entity that was known as Mok was much larger than one might imagine.

Messor merely grinned, an unnatural light flashing in his eyes for a moment as he waited for his drink.
 
Alie closed her eyes, feeling her mouth salivating at the delicious smell that was wafting her way from the kitchen. She opened them in time to see a pair of green ghostly translucent hands that held no other form. She blinked, now realizing the ghost stories held some bit of merit. She was slightly scared, but more than anything she was curious. She had never experienced such a thing. Pirating and mercenary work let you see a lot of things, but never had she seen something like this, Mok. She smirked curiosity in her eyes. the phrase echoed in her head, Curiosity killed the Cat, Alie Kitty. cooed a familiar voice of her Captain. She frowned briefly, unable to harness her curiosity from visibility. She caught the smell of her food again and her mind immediately side tracked to the dish those hands were carrying. If she had been in her cat form her tail would have been swinging back and forth in impatient anticipation. She looked at the plate and licked her lips at the smell, she hoped it tasted as good as it smelled and looked. She looked back to Mok and smiled appreciatively.

"Thanks. It has been a while since I had a good meal." She explained, appreciatively.

Alie's attention was drawn away a moment though. She knew of several types of alcoholic beverages that at the mere smell could knock someone on their ass or even unconscious drunk, but never had she honestly hear the extent in which was explained. She glanced over to the said container of the alcoholic beverage. She narrowed her gaze at it, she knew better than to assume it was her type at the sound of it. She was of this plane, not the hell planes of existence. She had heard they existed as with the higher planes of angelic planes, but she had yet to, as far as she knew, actually meet one of any other plane but her own. Her Captain despite his reputation kept them away from that kind of thing to protect his crew. He may be a bastard at times and seem like a cold heartless prick who cared about only his fortune gained, but she knew him better. He did care about most of his crew, to her disdain her Captain even seemed to have a personal eye on and for her. She had to be appreciative with it in a sense though, he kept the other dogs of the crew off her as it was well known she was a favorite pet of his and tangoing with one of his pets meant a painfully slow and agonizing trip to Davy Jones' Locker. She looked back to the man, either he could hella handle his alcohol or there was more to him. She felt a cold chill run up her back as she watched him grin at Mok's clarification to Randin. She didn't shudder visibly, but she felt it in her stomach. there was something wrong with this man.

She looked back to her plate and began to eat, keeping the man in her peripheral vision in case he tried to address or come any closer to her. She hoped he paid no attention to her, however her odd striped patterned grey and black coloring of her hair was a odd thing to see on what looked human to all could see. She did however, in a human form hold a bit of a scent of a cat that could be smelled by anyone with a keen sense of smell. By keen, better than your average even best dog. A normal wolf couldn't pick it up in her human form. In cat form anything that had a dog's level of sense of smell could smell her as if she were a true cat. She hoped...this man didn't have such a keen nose as to catch her feline scent mixed under her Indian Jasmine perfume she wore.
 
Randin made a curious face. "Uh. Alright..." He found the flask on its purposed shelf - a large, black-metal container. The barkeep grunted as he lifted it. Heavy. It felt like something was churning inside of it, as if there were a kindling fire within the flask...

He procured an iron mug, opened the top, and began to pour...

"Holy..." Randin turned his head a fraction of a second too late and caught a mouthful of smoke. He coughed twice and his eyes watered, but his hands kept steady as he poured out the drink, smoke belching from the liquid.

Randin wiped his eyes with his sleeve before returning the flash and offering the mug up to the newcomer. "There y'are, sai. You certainly like it strong."

He looked between Mok and Messor, noting the familiarty with which they spoke to each other. "You two seem to know each other." He looked at Messor. "You a regular around here? I'm still learning people's names - name's Randin, by the way. I'm new."

He looked over his shoulder into storage. Gab would be waiting for him. Her cut didn't look too deep, but it still needed to be bandaged.
 
Gabrielle closed her eyes for a moment, trying to find the center in order to do a little bit of meditation before Randin came to bandage up her hand. Sitting up, she crossed both legs and placed her hands on her knees, palms facing upward. Her mind was running a million miles a minute with everything that had happened to her since she was a kid and it was hard to slow it down. Thankfully, it didn't take her long to relax and she was soon able to quiet her mind. Once relaxed, the brunette slid back open her eyes and glanced at her clothing again. "Time to buy something decent... with my pretend money." Frowning, she slumped over at that thought, knees tugging up against her chest as she wrapped one arm around her legs.

"Maybe I should rob a bank or something."
 
In all the time that had been passed, Girania had simply sat there, quietly drinking her cider. Others had begun to arrive, expanding her options and choices. By the time she realized it, the cider was gone. She was getting a little impatient, but she decided to ignore it for now. She needed to find strong ones. Ones that would help her immensely, and such was her determination that she would even force them if she had to. After all, there were ways to make things happen.
 
Receiving the steaming liquor, the man rose, dipping into a jesting partial bow, while unravelling his glamour with the grace and showmanship of a well practiced magician. The hoodie shredded away, pulling apart as arm-length raven feathers stretched, flexing into a brief display of midnight wings before tucking against his back. The curious design wrapping about his leg likewise pulled free of the fabric, lashing gently once before coiling about his legs, while horns slid free of the tangled locks of his hair. The unnatural hue of his eyes burned with inner fires, and while a mocking smile curled at his lips, his tone was serious as he responded to the young man.

"I'm the regular that only shows up out of nowhere every once in a blue moon. You're boss and I have a...complicated history of interactions."

Mok chose not to interject, going back to his usual place, polishing the bar's glasses.
 
Alie watched and smirked softly at the reaction Randin made upon popped the cork on the noxious alcohol, she quickly let it fade away into a calm expression as she sat sipping her alcohol in a lazy fashion as she had no reason really to hurry. She watched in silence as Randin addressed the man in the odd clothing, still getting a feeling there was more to him than currently visible. Which she didn't have to wait long before her suspicions had been confirmed. She watched with unshielded awe as a set of raven wings sprawled and contracted. He gaze immediately falling to his pants which revealed a tail that seemed to flick as he made what seemed to her as a mocking bow toward Randin. She couldn't help but feel like this man was completely full of himself and just rolled her eyes briefly as men, hell anyone full of themselves had a knack of getting on her nerves whether intentional or not. She raised a brow at the man's verbal response to the owner's and his relationship. She couldn't help the sarcastic, mocking smirk that danced on her face as she almost laughed aloud in a mocking fashion as if she could understand why it would be complicated with how cocky he was after all.

She let he gaze fall away from him and look towards Mok as he polished the glasses. She was curious why he held silent again, but didn't bother to ask. She went to take another sip only to realize she had unintentionally already drained her glass. She sighed, setting the glass back down and pushed it away toward the other side of the bar. She was no longer in a drinking mood. The company had become unpleasant to say the least and she tried to avoid being intoxicated when she might have to have her wits about her. She looked around the room, wondering consciously where the girl got off too. She felt a bit sorry for the girl not feeling well.

"Mok was it?" She paused hesitantly before proceeding more certain. "Can you do me a bit of a favor?" She asked, fishing out 25 gold coins, setting them on the bar top and sliding them toward Mok. "Not sure why the girl looks that way or if she willingly is looking that way, but...uh...can you just give her these. I've been in rough spots before and if it were not for my captain taking me in, showing me a trade...I'd still be there. She don't owe me anything back as long as she doesn't waste it on drugs, gambling, or drinking alcohol. Can I count on you for that Mok?"

"No, more alcohol, just straight juice this time please. I've had enough for right now." She said looking to her empty glass, not even feeling slightly buzzed.
 
Randin cast a wary glance at the stranger as he let his glamour drop. It was a strange thing, watching horns and feathers sprout out of a man like crop out of the soil, but it was far from the most bizarre thing he'd witnessed since he'd begun working at Penance.

"Can't be too complicated," Randin replied with an easy smile, "all due respect sai, if Jegun didn't want you in his bar, I'm not sure that you'd have made it through the front door."

He looked back to Girania. "I'll be right with ya, miss. Gimme a moment to fix something."
The bartender hurried to the store room where Gabby had gone. He entered just as she finished speaking to herself.

"Breaking mirrors and robbing banks," he whistled, "Gabby, you're a regular criminal tonight." He reached into a cupboard and removed a first aid kit.

"Lemme see that hand," he walked over to her, "did you get all the glass out?"

((Yo, REALLY sorry about how late this is. Didn't even realize it was my post.))
 
Gabrielle didn’t even look up when Randin entered the room, managing at least for the moment to ignore his comments. She wasn’t a criminal and knew he was just kidding, but if he understood what she was going through maybe he wouldn’t kid so much. Truly, she expected to be kicked out any moment and maybe should just save them the trouble. Then again, she did owe him and Jegun a lot, hence needing to rob a bank.

“The mirror was an accident, Randin and as for robbing a bank, well... it’s not like they’re being guarded much since Westeria went to shittown.” Gabby glanced up at him, shrugging a little. “I have to pay you and Jegun back somehow.” She peered back down at her hand, shrugging yet again before holding it out towards him.

“I don’t know, maybe? The large shards most definitely.”
 
Alie walked in, looking as if she had been without the simple pleasures for a while. A set of gooseberry green eyes scanned the Penance. It had been a few years since the last time she entered these doors and had simply slid out without even a word. She preferred not to get close or have ties, it made the Merc life easier, nothing to use against you in the event shit hit the fan. Thankfully, as rough as some of her missions had gotten the worst had been a major scrape between some werewolves that had tried to make her employer dinner for their disrespect. She hated the body guard role, but it paid well. She was relieved to see this place though as she was in need of rest, to cleanup, hot food and a damn good drink.

Her last mission had been playing body guard to a spoiled snot nosed Lord's son as he ventured, the little bastard had even laid a hand upon her ass. She had to restrain her reaction to not remove his hand for his audacity, but had given him an ear full he would never forget. Damn kid was only 13 and already vulgar. On the way back from their trip to the lord's manor, a rival had jumped the caravan. She defended the kid successfully, but not without the caravan losing several good women and men. The kid wanted to leave their bodies to rot, she put a stop to that, the good people deserved to be brought back to their loved ones or buried properly. As they were still several days trek out, bringing them without having every predator hot for their caravan would be foolish. So, they took the remainder of the day to bury the dead and tend to the injured. The rest of the trip went without problem and she was paid and sent on her way without an offer to clean up the dried dirt and blood from her body and gear. She probably stunk, no, she was sure of it.

She smirked softly, walking up to the bar counter "Hey Mok, can a girl get a means to clean up before she orders a damn good brew and food for her gullet after a tiring journey?" Her voice was soft, playful.

A single spectral hand appears behind the counter, pointing behind her to her right. Her green eyes followed the gesture to a door that was not there a few moments ago when she walked in. She nodded her appreciation, placing payment on the counter before heading for the door, silently wondering about this place. It was strange, but had its only story about the one who owned it and his band of merry men and women. She walked into the room and ran a hot bath, laying her only pair of clean clothes on the bed before emptying the dirty contents out to be washed later tonight. She stripped down and slid into the bath, savoring the heat on her sore body. Bruises decorated her side and back from the bandit fight only days prior. She was just relived to not have any broken bones.

Some time later, she woke as the water began to get cool on her skin. She had dozed in the tub; her stomach complained at resting in the tub before being filled. She dried, then dressed herself before tending to her laundry. Then walking out the room to get drink and food. She sat down at the bar, looking for the familiar spectral hands of the wraith. A tankard was placed in front of her from the shelf.

"Ah, there you are. Dragonfruit Rum and a stew with cornbread if you got it Mok?"

The hand reached for a tall clear bottle with a white and silver with hints of pinkish red on the label, pouring it into her glass after a few ice cubes clattered into the tankard. She nodded in appreciation, then drifted into her own thoughts as she waited for the fresh stew to be served. Her thoughts retreated to boot camp, the drill sergeant screaming in her ear that she was a pansy little girl that needed to tap out and pack her shit and leave. How the men were so offended by her and a few other women being there in their ranks. Fast forwarding to her adoption into the pirate ranks, how brutal the lessons were, her body still holding onto these ghostly memories with scars that would never fade like her memories could.
 
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