Engine's Bar for the Undead

[Legendary Sauce]

Engine's Bar for the Undead or Otherwise Noted Characters of Sordid Intention.

So then.

There was a man from a far away land. This world was ruled by the undead, and those that had died joined the legions untold where masters laid in wait to snatch stray corpses up for their own nefarious schemes and plots. Most families kept their undead in locked chambers known as Gregoriums to keep stray masters from summoning their relatives or otherwise. The chambers of some Gregoriums were known to stretch miles below the surface, thousands of writhing flocks of undead stockpiled amongst one another for safe keeping, teaching, and warfare against foreign invaders. Alongside these tombs, it was the duty of the eldest member and most learned of the necrotic arts to teach those youngest to control and manipulate the undead with a dangerous and brutal cunning. From generation to generation and family to family, control and manipulation of the undead varied and molded into many separate styles, or 'Arts' as they were called among the sects of those that ruled the highest number of undead, and wars among these families for land and undead wealth broke out like wildfire in the early years of this horrific, arcana fueled world. Those who cast control of endless droves ruled the blasted lands with iron fists, and the integral lives of the living and their undying relatives became an even tighter noose where demon summoning and mutation of the flesh took place at a near constant. Different schools of necromantic Arts opened leading into pathways of untold darkness where the simple binding of the flesh and twisting of the spirit were but paltry sums in comparison to what awaited in the Beyond of the Beyond. Those who dwelled as mortals had two choices placed before them. Be slaughtered and turned into mindless puppets for another master's use, or bind the wills that tied them to the world, and sacrifice one's very soul for power beyond power, the impossible strength of the necromancer given by the Dark God Ool. Those who prayed to his well of souls gained the unique skill of raising and turning the undead, and those that denied him were destined to either live out as Slayers of Darkness, a dwindling sect of mortals who battled against the undying hordes in hopes of one day finding a cure, or as cannon fodder for a master of the darkest arts.

Foulmancy, Corpse Weaving, Skag Raising, Necromancy, Dark Summoning of Daemon or Otherwise...

A world so rich in death and pain. A place so full of life hidden under walls of living corpses, of demon and zombie giants, of arcane sorcery and impossible evil...

Engine had to escape. And so he did...

But he brought a little bit of home back with him.

----

Engine is a walker of Planes. Gaining the ethereal ability to go wherever he desired given considerable months of concentration was a chanced upon skill, and he was lucky to have gained it given his world was in the process of being overrun by abominations of a newly summoned God known simply as Cadmazan. The force of Ool were forced to stop bickering amongst one another and turn to thwarting that which threatened to consume all...

The forces of Ool failing in most all respects, Engine turned to ancient tome and text for clue into escape from his doomed world, noting the realistic inevitability of total annihilation by this most daunting of foes. Gathering his strength, he broke arcane law and sold a sliver of his own mortal soul to an entity Beyond the Beyond in order to escape the purgatory that was his home world. His soul fractured yet his new power secured, he confidently cracked a void bolt across the air where a portal to the unknown sizzled into existence, the sound of the coming abominations thrumming in his ears like pelting rain.

As he escaped through the void slashed before him, he felt the pull of Ool nearly twist from his being, a weakened tether following him through the unknown into what he would come to call his new home, the dimension of Gaia, planet Gaia Primus.

---

Engine owns a bar. It's a two story flat where the bottom level is decorated in antique oak furniture all around with booths and bar seats and all that good stuff. Even the floor is some form of polished oak, the walls red brick and lightly decorated with macabre pictures of funerals and deserted church grounds. A bar-top sits on the far wall right when one walks in from a shanty porch that is host to a two person chair swing and several rocking chairs for easy swaying in the breeze.

There's a massive Gregorium behind the building, along with a mile long graveyard with most of the graves dug up say for a few hundred..

It smells of death and sweet cinnamon when one enters..

Do you dare?

[Legendary Sauce]

Rules

No God Modding

Follow Gaia ToS

Keep it relatively mild with sexuality, but cursing and violence are not prohibited. Just don't get me in trouble aye?

Be a good sport and message someone before you intimately or violently interact with them. I don't have an OOC. You know why? Because ******** drama.

[Legendary Sauce]

OPEN

Engine stood before his newly opened bar. He wiped at his sweating brow with the back of his hand, black smudging across his forehead from ashes he had been fooling around with earlier. He leaned forward on his Scragging shovel, an enormous spade tipped shovel with a handle taller than himself, and spit onto the front porch.

"That's a good'n." He snorted and spit again, this time right on one of his chained up zombies nearest the front. He kept a couple up front to lure in the customers. Everyone loved zombies right? One snapped it's jaws within a half inch of his nose, and Engine barely flinched before socking it square in the teeth. It fumbled three steps back and moaned in a long broken wail, three of it's rotted teeth tumbling from it's shattered jaw as it shambled back a few more steps from it's master. They were a little bit more bite happy then normal it seemed. Not too bad, he thought with a sneaky grin. Lighting a rolled cigarette the Corpse Weaver took a long drag before tapping it's ashes into the brain pan of the nearest Revenant. Smoke poured from his nostrils in great lethargic streams that trailed around his whipped back hair like a smoldering halo, his teeth clacking together awkwardly as he took another prolonged drag. He tasted the smoke, kept it deep in himself longer then it needed to be. He wanted to be closer to death, to hold it's hands and kiss deep it's gaping maw regardless of it's rot and cinder. He whistled at the disobedient zomble, and the creature shuffled over slowly as if it knew it was about to be scolded.

"I tell ya boy. Why you gone and tryin' to gnaw on ya' daddy 'den?" He cocked one of his ghoulish eyes, his colorless pupils expanding as he gave power to his simple words so that the rudimentary zombie could understand and promptly obey. The process of scolding one's undead was completely unnecessary, if not a complete waste of time. Engine just liked to have fun...

Plus, he was very, very lonely.

"You want ah' spankin'?" He raised a finger to the 6'4 zombie giant, poking it in the meaty chest a few good times. It cowered before him, and promptly gurgled, "No 'pankie, No 'pankie!" Raising it's arms in defense it visibly shook before Engine, it's master and fated Ender, like a wet puppy being scolded for shitting the bed. "Oh now quit shakin'. Big ol' baby. How the hell you manage to eat so many ruffians yet you a'scared of 'pankie?" He tapped his ashes on the giant's head, and lightly tapped it's forehead with the wooden end of his Scragging shovel. "You try to bite me again and it's Old Greg for you."

At this, the undead stopped whimpering, and immediately took it's place back beside the entry way nearest the front porch's step.

"That's what I thought."

[Legendary Sauce]

The Murgler of Engine's Gregorium shambled up to it's master on spindly yet able legs. It had four expertly stitched female legs locked below it's bulky torso, and it's feet were host to fat demonic claws the looked capable of rending flesh from bone with ease. It's back along with it's upper neck and forearms were lined in metal spikes and soldered armor plating, and if one looked close enough they would note several distinct runic markings along it's chest and lower half. It's three arms, one on the right and two on the left respectively, fell forward in an erratic pattern as it drew near, it's huge fists thumping the ground like an ancient gorilla as it ambled nimbly across the front yard, eager to speak to it's beloved master. It seethed, it's rows of serrated teeth flashing out like some kind of land borne shark, and it lowered it's mutilated snout for Engine to scratch, an interaction the Murgler was quite fond of as it drooled black gruel at his booted feet. The Skin Weaver rubbed his creation like a welcome dog upon its greyish scalp, and the creature growled in hallowed pleasure until it's gigantic mouth stood ajar, slime freely flowing from it's gaping maw. After a moment's affection Engine patted the Murgler and nodded for it to speak. It blinked seven of it's twelve eyes and spoke the language of the dead, Mor'Dool'Norn, recanting the numbers of undead and the number of successful experiments to Engine in exact, pain staking detail. The Skin Weaver listened intently to the Murgler's sharp whispers until he felt satisfied with the detailed report, at which he cut the Murgler off with a sharp hiss. The creature stopped abruptly, mouth hanging open expectantly.

"Return to your work. I shall be down when the night comes to review your results. Bag'ran, that is enough, be gone!"

It screeched in approval and sprinted away, leaving Engine to continue nursing his cigarette in front of the shanty porch...It was a nice day, and he wanted to spend as much time outside as he could. Tonight, there would be much work to be done.

[Legendary Sauce]

Breaking a hoe against the tilled earth, Engine raked across the rich soil until a deep trench was left in it's wake. All around similar trenches had been dug, and here the Skin Weaver whistled for several of his 'task keepers' to come forward. From the surrounding fields Revenants lingered forth, empty eyed corpses with stitched mouths and subtle farming attire strewn among their numerous ranks so as to make them appear decent. No one wanted to see a naked farming zombie, and Engine grumbled at the thought as his team of undead circled around to await further commands.

"Leroy, get dah ashes and start tillin' dem into dah trenches. The rest of you get tah' work on seedin' behind him."

[BrokenDollEyes]

She was lost, no lost was four hours an fifty-two minutes ago. When she had stupidly taken the wrong turn at the fork in tbe road and proceeded to wander around the area. Hazel orbs flickered across rhe plain with disinterest, red scarf securely wrapped around the front of her face, blocking the scent of decay that lay in the air. It was an amazing smell if you where into that sort of thing. The decomposing flesh and tissue that mingled with the parasites that broke down the organs. Yummy!

The vomit was slowly forcing its way up the esophagus but Ember pushed it down with a hard swallow. Slowly a shiver worked up and down the spine, but while that was happening the chick spotted a bar...thing...a few feet from her. It was a building it had to be better then out in the open. Making quick work of the distance the female pushed further into the bar. Wait it was a bar right?

[Legendary Sauce]

BrokenDollEyes

A deformed beast of binded flesh and copper wire struggled up from behind the bar-top. It was shackled to the far wall by chains etched in arcane runes that glimmered hues of limestone green, and when it moved to stand the bar light's activated automatically from above. Rolling it's black lips back it revealed blood soaked fangs and a forked tongue like an undead serpent, it's many eyes rolling as it assessed the woman who had entered. Was she a threat or was she a friendly face? It did not matter to the mutated Revenant, for his only purpose was to serve without question.

"Mortal!" It squawked, flapping it's stitched wings so that it could hover momentarily, it's chains clinking and clanking as it pointed at the girl from afar. "Come forth. If you desire food or drink, I shall provide." Tt landed in a miserly crouch, it's immense wings folding back so that the girl could view the expansive selection of drinks upon the far wall.

[BrokenDollEyes]

Legendary Sauce

Hazel eyes landed upon the creature and almost bolted back out the door. It struck a cord deep within the woman, it wasn't fear...no fear would leave that coppery taste in the back of the mouth. A grip of thr heart in cold hands as well as that slight sheen of cold sweat! That wasn't what Ember was feeling, yet it was close enough. Moving forward towards the creature hands fiddled with the red scarf till it fell down. Allowing all to see the beautiful face. Marred beauty only by the Glasgow grin stretching from ear to ear. One side a perfect line while the other was jagged and hesitant. Sloppy indeed, looks like someone had balls enough to fight back.

Something strong, please.

Always one for some kind of manners this one was. Plopping her a** upon a stool the girl watched with careful eyes. The scent of the air had become neutral to her, must be getting use to it!

[Legendary Sauce]

BrokenDollEyes

Legendary Sauce

Hazel eyes landed upon the creature and almost bolted back out the door. It struck a cord deep within the woman, it wasn't fear...no fear would leave that coppery taste in the back of the mouth. A grip of thr heart in cold hands as well as that slight sheen of cold sweat! That wasn't what Ember was feeling, yet it was close enough. Moving forward towards the creature hands fiddled with the red scarf till it fell down. Allowing all to see the beautiful face. Marred beauty only by the Glasgow grin stretching from ear to ear. One side a perfect line while the other was jagged and hesitant. Sloppy indeed, looks like someone had balls enough to fight back.

Something strong, please.

Always one for some kind of manners this one was. Plopping her a** upon a stool the girl watched with careful eyes. The scent of the air had become neutral to her, must be getting use to it!

Growling in acknowledgement the foul Revenant tapped at it's deformed forehead, it's nasty little teeth clacking together in confusion. It was an undead monstrosity, not an actual bartender, so giving it a vague answer wasn't necessarily the best mode of communication. It grunted and went over to several bottles, poking at them questionably. What was something strong?

"Uhh.." It drooled, eyes screwing up in obvious frustration.

A cracking sound like wood being split came from a darkened hall towards the back of the room, and a moment later Engine pressed his way inside, cursing about how the door needed to be oiled or something. He scolded one of his following Revenants, slapping it on the hand as it reached up to inspect the door. "Not now, damn, Eugene. We got guests." He pointed to the woman and smiled apologetically, his white eyes slitting towards his half rotted familiar. "Lookin damn, scrappy. Miller, Thompson. Go on and stitch Eugene some new skin grafts. Needs refittin'." He watched to see his ghouls go off in the right direction, then closed the back door noisily, locking it back up as if out of forced habit. Turning back, his tired eyes fell upon Ember. Engine was very pale, a skinny man who didn't look like he ate much but there was an unsung strength in the way he held himself, as if he had an ace up his sleeve no one was aware of. Knocking the dirt from his boots nearest a floor mat at the back, he lit a cigarette and found his way over to the bar, slipping behind it wordlessly. He patted his mutant Revenant on the back and dismissed it with a sharp click of his tongue, turning his attention back to Ember after a moments hesitation.

"Sorry 'bout that. Got fields to till and don't get much folks 'round my parts, didn't mean to inconvenience ya." He pulled his work gloves off and laid them to the side, beginning to wash his hands in the sink as he smoked and talked shop with his newest customer. "Yep not many folk like hangin' round due to my ways but, like I like to say to those who criticize the strange."

He set up two shots of spiced rum, setting one in front of the girl for her to join him in cheers.

[******** 'em."

He would bang the shot on the bar and slug it back, snuffing slightly as he set up yet another round of shots immediately after...

[BrokenDollEyes]

Legendary Sauce

The bang actually caused a jump to spring in the chicks bones. Unsettling her just a tad bit more, but then there was a gruff male voice that broke the air. Watching with mild fascination about what was going on. The dead weren't her thing, never one to actually have the skill to raise, let alone talk to them. But when bumping across people whom could, or had a few laying around the girl tended to pay close attention. Corpse raising and zombie armies where becoming the new it thing. Thats why she wanted a Viking funeral, set that b***h on fire and let her sail away!

Mildly lost in thought she took quick notice of the male moving behind the bar. Washing his hands and setting up a shot. "Cheers to that" she spoke softlt before following suite with the ritual of hitting the glass upon the counter and taking the shot like a pro. Setting the glass back down she let a small twitch of the nose be thr only indocator that there was a sting in the throat.

"Your bar?"

[Legendary Sauce]

BrokenDollEyes

Engine held his second shot up to the light and swiveled it around in his grip, watching the amber liquid inside slosh around like a tiny whirlpool. He set it back down and turned to the mirrored back wall, moving around several things in his mini cooler before turning back with two frosted beers in his hands. He cracked one open next to his full shot and sat down at the stool behind the bar directly across from his only customer. Holding the beer absentmindedly against his forehead the Skin Weaver once settled and looking comfortable nodded at her, his void like eyes turning to her finally.

"Name's Engine. And course this is mah' bar. You think any old ******** could be runnin' dem zomble so smoothly? Reckon' you get Old Joe Smo' up here an' watch his a** get eatin', promptly I might add." He waggled a finger at her and cracked a light grin. "Not many people know much 'bout the Arts. Shame really." He shrugged and took a noisy sip from his beer, pointing to her own to partake of.

"Get it while it's still cold. Mind 'ya, it's on the house seein' as yer' my only customer for the day. Though I reckon' I ain't in it for profit. Jus', some company really. Got all the things I need, money ain't no factor. Just some, damn, faces sometimes would be nice. Other than these zombles all the time." He looked down and sighed heavily.

"It's good to be among the livin'. So what you in this here part of town for? Ain't seen ya before?"

He looked up and his smile returned. Engine didn't like to dwell too strongly on his own depression..

[BrokenDollEyes]

Legendary Sauce

Ember lifted up the beer once he had motioned for her own. Cracking a smile when he talked about some poor idiot wandering around and getting himself eaten by the living dead. It was an odd term if one actually pondered it for a moment, the living but you're dead. Brushing the subject away the chick took a sip of the beer. After all beer that went from hot to cold to hot again tasted like a**.

"Got lost, took the wrong turn and bam" for emphasis her bottle clanked against the top. "Here i am, drinking with ya. Call me Ember"

A smile spread across her mouth, pullin the scar tissue slightly making her cheeks look tight. Other then the Glasgow grin her other beauty marks where hidden beneath the form fitting shirt and jeans. "So Engine, rasing the dead your only speciality " there was a teasing tone there a bit flirty but nothing harmful.

[Legendary Sauce]

BrokenDollEyes

"Ayuh, that's how most folks do it." He raised his beer from his forehead and took a long chug. He crushed the empty beer and tossed it behind his back lazily, missing the trash can completely as it clanked against the back wall and ended up tumbling under one of the many tables strewn around the dusty bar. He didn't look back, and reaching into his cooler began rummaging around at length, muttering to himself all the while. "Damn, Murglers have been drinkin' my craft beer.." He finally turned back around with a chilled glass bottle of something, but it didn't look like beer. He sipped from the green bottle and took his seat once more, pondering her inquiry. He scratched at his head, taking another sip and a long drag from his cigarette.

"Ayuh, I got lots of specialties. You lookin' fer somethin in particular?" He stroked his chin, wondering at her peaked curiosity. Not many people cared to learn about Engine. When someone took an interest in anything related to his Art it was either about how to raise family members from the dead or how to raise an army of technically invincible multi-limbed abominations, neither of which he performed for any price, physical or otherwise. This girl named Ember, she just wanted to know about him. Curious...

[BrokenDollEyes]

Legendary Sauce

Polishing off her own beer in a few gulps the female didn't bash it against her own skull. That might of actually caused her to pass the hell out. Well technically knock her a** out. Her being by nature was curious like a cat, got her in to deep trouble most of the time, but the female never seemed to learn.

"Well not many people can raise the dead, and fewer who can actually control them. Most of the time, well from personal view, i have watched morons raise someone they love and then get eaten. Gruesome sight to see when you're trying to eat lunch."

Ember didn't want to raise anyone from the ground, let the dead lie! No she was just wondering about the profession. Never know when some kind of advice will come in handy. Shifting slightly on the stool her a** began to tingle with the sign of falling asleep. "Been traveling for a while, met all kinds but your speciality is rare indeed."

[Legendary Sauce]

BrokenDollEyes

Engine picked at his teeth with a steel filed toothpick, listening all the while as the girl basically repeated what he had said. She was essentially praising him for what he just, did naturally. This was his way of life. He had been among the dead since he was a child, and raising, controlling, and manipulating the dead was as natural as every day breathing to the soft spoken Planeswalker. Taught the Arts by a true Lich Lord, a man who had melded his living soul with an undead vessel, Engine had been obsessed with the knowledge of the forbidden flesh ever since he had witnessed his first battle. At a young age he had yearned to learn the mythical talent of Skin Weaving, the ability to usher in hellish beings that could protect him and his family from all would be enemies. For years he weaved nightmarish creatures that were monsters in every aspect, but they were his monsters, his friends that protected those he cherished and loved, and most of all, comforted him when he was alone and feeling low. Who needed friends when you could weave them together. One friend, two friends....Hundreds of new, beautiful friends. Empty of pain, empty of malcontent and jealousy, empty of soul and malicious intent. He could count on his crafted brethren for anything. They would live for him, kill for him, die for him more than once if they had to. He couldn't count on the living...

The living were evil.

"It's just somethin' I grew up doin'. Nothin' more nothin' less. Listen," He ashed his cigarette out, whistling for one of his Revenants to shamble over so that he could task it with taking the trash out. "You can drink here. Eat iff'n you're hungry, I'll make ya foods n' such... But unless you got some real interest other than butterin' my biscuits about raising zombles I'd rather not talk about it." He wore a glazed expression, one that said he wasn't having any of Embers spiel. Being nice was one thing, but Engine wasn't a sucker. He knew people came around trying to exploit his talents for shallow gain, whether it be for profit or petty revenge, and he grew tired of those that complimented and talked of nothing endlessly. Such speech was for politicians and the one track minded, not for a bar...

"Got any talents yer own?"