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The Alibi
"Now you have one."
The Alibi is two stories worth of ugly, composed of worn looking brick and cement, and wooden shutters with paint that has long since peeled off. It is somewhat off the beaten path of the city whose borders it infringes upon, in that unspoken no-mans land that exists between cities and the woods that circle them.
At its surface, it is simply a run down dive bare eking out a meager existence on the outskirts of civilization. Like its patrons, however, the Alibi is much more than it seems.
It is a Safehouse for the supernatural, existing in careful balance between two worlds and belonging entirely to neither.
The Alibi is known for doing as its name suggests. For the proper fee, the bartender can be persuaded to forget - or remember - you face as circumstances call for. Here, you can escape angry wives, overzealous husbands, parents and lovers. Here, you can also escape the prying eyes of local authorities, and hunters.
They are also known for...other things.
Money flowing unchecked through various accounts, drugs laced with magic and fever dreams, and bodies given to the wild woods.
Here, we welcome all kinds.
Rich and Poor, Weak and Strong, Mundane or Other - everyone needs an alibi.
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Description and Layout
Standing two stories tall but somehow managing to give the impression that it is squatting, the Alibi is arranged in a fairly standard Tavern and Inn way.
A dirt road branches off of the nearby highway, taking a mile or more to reach the buildings parkinglot - which is also dirt. It is likely that the building was once a house, several decades ago, cannibalized and re-purposed to fit its new role in life. There is a small, weather worn wooden porch framing the front of the building, the awning of which supports an equally battered looking wooden sign sporting two crossed pistols and the words 'The Alibi' in hand painted lettering. Scraggly bushes hug the edges of the porch in what might have been a garden, once upon a time. Its gone wild now, with plants growing in a careless and oddly...savage...tangle. Just inside the shadow of the bushes, there is a scattered collection of small bowls and chipped, porcelain teacups, all of them spotlessly clean and serving no apparent purpose. The particularly observent or the particularly unlucky might, on occasion, notice the bushes rustle and stir in a way that seems to directly contradict what the wind should be doing to them. You'll never see anything inside, no matter how hard you look, but if you listen carefully you might hear a pattern to the rustling leave that sounds oddly like whispered voices just beyond your range of hearing, and you might catch out of the corner of your eye, just the barest impression of large, glittering eyes and sharp needle like teeth.
The owner does not recommend getting too close to the bushes.
A bell is hung just above the door, and rings any time it is opened or closed, though whether this noise is acknowledged or not tends to vary.
Directly in front of the door, against the back wall of the building, stands a scarred bar counter. Behind that hangs several shelves of liquor, and two doorless cabinets of glasses. Booths line the left side wall while the right side wall houses a fireplace, with a battered but comfortable and spotlessly clean little sofa standing in front of it. Where there would normally be a coffee table, there is just a collection of animal furs and thick plush rugs and cushions to provide a comfortable seating area on the floor around the hearth.
Double swinging doors to the left of the bar counter lead into the kitchen, and a hallway to the right of the bar leads to both the stairs and the public bathrooms.
Upstairs is a long hallway with a handful of doors on either side. Two of these rooms are 'suites', containing slightly better quality decor as well as private bathrooms. The other three rooms are smaller, and share a bathroom at the end of the hall - but they are significantly cheaper.
The bar has the over all impression of being old, well weathered and worn - but very clean. The wooden surfaces may be scratched and scarred, but they are all well washed, oiled and polished. The bathrooms have cracked tile, in places, but the chrome and porcelain gleams, and there isnt a hint of mold or mildew anywhere.
The place gives off the odd sensation of being...slightly removed from time. There are modern features and amenities, but they almost manage to look like anachronisms when coupled with the animal skin rugs. Most of the food served here is meat, and of that meat almost all of it comes from what he owner and her people bring in on their hunts. There are some vegetables present, but no more than could be grown in the small garden out back.
The decor is rustic, but comfortable in a old world kind of way. Built to last, and occasionally heavily repaired. It looks as if time could flow right around this place without ever truly touching it.
Not helping this impression, is the overall presence of magic seeping slowly into the very ground.
It is a crisp, wild scent, like lightning striking in winter, and the scent of the forest floor after a gentle rain.
Its mild, and most will not recognize it for what it is - the scent of the Wylde, and of Faerie.
The only notable feature of the land is that the property extends far beyond the clearing of the backyard, well into the tree line. Only the bartender seems to know where the property ends and the forest begins.
There is a small vegetable garden newly tilled into the soil back against the tree line, and a few small fruit trees that dont appear to have much regard for what season they should actually be bearing their fruit. There is a fire pit in the center of the cleared out section that serves as the back yard, and a tree branch reaching out into the clearing with a rope dangling from it, and a long scarred board balanced over two stumps. A hunting knife sticks almost permanently out of the board, and the rope has blood stains on it - but its not as sinister as it seems. The owner just prefers to gut and clean her kills closer to home.
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