[. The Black Spot .] [. Open.]

[rlley]

A gust of wind, a chill in the air, the smell of burnt tobacco. The door creaked open, a man stepped in, his face covered by a black and gray shemagh, wrapped around his face, concealing all but his dark red eyes. Strands of midnight black hair poked their way out from beneath, falling across his pierced right eyebrow, a scar leading down from the left. He wore a black leather duster, the bottom reaching all the way to the ankles of his black combat boots, a spike protruding from the heel of each. Tracing upward along his legs he wore dark blue jeans, holding tight to his legs. At the waist, a holster on his right and a scabbard on his left, hanging from a black studded belt, cracked and worn. The holster holding an original colt 1911, silver, with black pearl handle inlays, and in the scabbard, a wakizashi, the hilt made of ebony, although it appeared to be damaged and ancient.

A clawed hand reached up to the shemagh, pulling it away from the mysterious man's face, his hair billowed down past the shoulders of the six-foot-four stranger. His skin was dark, no doubt from his years of traveling. A long, scraggly beard covered his face. Streaks of red and blonde randomly zig zagging through the dark tangle. His ears were visible from beneath the mass of darkened silk upon his head, the pointed tips poking out vividly. From his nose, which appeared to have been broken several times, hung a septum ring, black. Snake bite piercings poked out from lips, the rings cradling his grin, canine like fangs gleaming from within. He was ruggedly attractive, the scar that started at his left eyebrow going all the way down past his lip, his most defining feature.

He stepped forward, heavy boots thudding on the floor as he walked, the door slamming behind him of its own accord. He looked wild, feral. The duster billowed behind him as he walked, his weapons clinking slightly against his waist, and whatever was inside of his pockets. In the blink of an eye, his duster was removed, twirling behind him as he threw it across his shoulder. Beneath it was a black Kevlar vest, pouches full of ammo strewn across it. Below, a black t-shirt, the sleeves cut off. Ancient symbols were tattooed all over both of his arms, forming sleeves, all inked with his own black blood. Quickly, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a hair band and tied his hair back into a ponytail, pulling it away from his ears. A two inch tunnel at the bottom of each, with various piercings climbing to nearly the top of both. A few more steps and he had reached the main bar, a sigh escaping his lips.

[Daevaofthenight]

[minor edit]

Miki looked over towards the man that sat a few seats down from her. He appeared bored. Mind numbingly bored. She watched him for a few minutes while he sorted a deck of cards over and over again, while sort of wondering if there was some significance to it, or if he was just doing it for something to do.

She dragged her eyes away from him after a few minutes, looking for a bartender or some one who she could order a drink from. However, no one appeared to be behind the bar. A quick thought that maybe that man not far from her may have been him, but she wasn't sure if she should ask seeing as how he was on the opposite side of the bar, and, to be honest, she didn't want to look like an idiot if she was wrong.

So, instead, she rested her arms on the bar and she glanced to her side, continuing to watch the man shuffle his cards. That is, until the door behind them opened and she glanced back. She looked over the newcomer briefly and watched him as he walked up to the bar, a few seats down from her.

[Tzagnos Zorba]

He stepped in, a middle aged man, his build and form showing that he was no stranger to work. His skin, hair and eyes showing the darkness of his ancestry combined with time outdoors. He smelled of leather and to those with a keen sense of smell, horses and iron. He wore black leather breeches and a simple but finely crafted linen shirt and a black leather vest, remnants of his old trade. He stopped just inside the door to look about the place - it seemed lively but not overly so and strode across the room to an empty bar stool to take a seat. He pulled a gold coin from the pouch at his belt and laid it on the counter to wait for the tender. As he waited he pulled a stubby and somewhat twisted pipe from his pocket and fiddled with it's half smoked contents debating if it needed to be refreshed or not. He made no eye contact with the other patrons.

[Tzagnos Zorba]

After thumbing the contents of the pipe he placed the stem between his teeth and sucked a bit of air through it before turning to look at the girl down the bar from him "Do you mind?" he asked simply lifting the pipe in his hand. The place was actually much quieter than he'd expected it to be, which wasnt necessariliy a bad thing, but one could never be sure what would blow through the door. He folded one knee over the other to make himself comfortable as he waited for a response.

[Tzagnos Zorba]

Tired of waiting he lit his pipe, took a few puffs as he looked around what now appeared to be an empty bar, picked up his coin and repocketted it before walking to the door. Perhaps someone would be there another time, perhaps not but there were plenty of establishments to try out, and it was time to head farther on down the road.

[ursi tonitru]

A black hoodie shirt, dark blue jeans, black sneakers, and short, choppy black hair that was pulled back into a stubby ponytail. She would've been any other normal person in the crowd if it weren't for the intricate staff she carried on her person.

The mage was always basked, to the trained eye, in a pale blue aura. She was a master of her craft, arcane sorcery spanning from simple healing spells to damaging ones. So much so, that the mana she'd learned to control so well had forever stained her eyes blue, sharply contrasting with her dark skin.

Even she had her simplicity.

The Black Spot

It seemed mundane, but at the same time it stood out among the tacky neon lights and ear-raping music of other bars and raves. It wasn't overly-dramatic, a trait so many glorified.

The corners of her lips curved into a pleasant smile as she stepped in. She noted the faded, dried muddy footprint that was splattered in the middle of the door, but was pleased when she couldn't find any signs of chaos inside. In fact, inside the pub seemed almost deserted. Oh well. The door was open, so sooner or later something would happen.

She made her way over to the bar and sat down on a stool. Her elegant staff rested against her shoulder, so that the blue, blossom-like orb at the end was just behind her right ear.

((And now we play the waiting game...

))

[ursi tonitru]

Tp tp tp tp...

Half-lidded eyes scanned the room as she tapped a single finger on the bar top. She was half-expecting a bartender, the owner, somebody to randomly appear out of thin air. It was a bit unrealistic, but hey! This was Gaia. Crazy s**t happened all the time.

Not today though.

"Can't even find anyone to talk to", she groaned.

Weary of the long staff resting on her shoulder, she started to shift it around at the base.

"It's like trying to find a parking spot on Black Friday."

She suppressed a shudder. Never again.

[Julian Varys]

"The ******** is Black Friday?"

[. Came the sound of his voice as he ascended the stairs leading from the cellar. While he'd been absent taking inventory of the bottles broken by the tigress, it seemed as though he'd missed a patron or two. Oh well. With no real rush to his gait, Julian moved to stand behind the bar just opposite the woman who'd sat down and with palm resting atop the counter, he took lean. .]

"Can I get'cha som'n to drink, lil' sister?"

[ursi tonitru]

"!"

Her gaze snapped up as she heard the man's voice. As he stepped behind the bar, she leaned forward with her elbows planted atop its smooth surface. A broad smirk crossed her face.

"'Bout time", she mused, crossing her fingers. "You don't happen to have Old Toad Gin here, do ya? If not, I'll just have some white wine-- brand doesn't matter to me."

Thin black eyebrows raised slightly as she recalled his first question. "Now, you've never heard of Black Friday? ...Probably wouldn't like it anyway." She looked thoughtful for a moment, scratching the back of her neck as she tried to think up a good explanation.

"It's...a day where people gather at large shopping centers and trample each other for cheap goods mere hours after being thankful for what they already have." A shrug.

[Julian Varys]

"Don't sound like no place I'd ever be. "

[. Reaching beneath the counter, Julian pulled a glass and set it atop a napkin in front of the woman before he turned, plucking a bottle from the shelf. A smile found his face as he opened the bottle of gin and poured it into her glass, head shaking a bit. ]

"But then, there ain't many places I'd be to begin with."

[ursi tonitru]

She huffed and wrapped her dark fingers around the glass. "Mind you, a friend convinced me to go. That was the first and last time I've ever tried it."

She hadn't even bought anything. Her main goal that day had been to think up ways to avoid getting slugged in the face. The whole thing might have actually been somewhat amusing to watch from a safe vantage point though.

"I take it you don't get out much?"

Raising the glass to her lips, she took a slow sip of the gin.

[BaconBunch]

He talks about you {( in his sleep )}

There's [[ nothing ]] i can do to keep

From <{[ crying ]}> when he calls your name, Jolene.

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene!


There is, or should be, always a point in a young woman's life when she wakes up, rolls out of bed, and decides to walk out the door. Leave home. The amount of time they spend is completely up to their own will -- A day shows that the woman has a weak will and is unable to survive in the outside world all by herself, without mommy's cooking or daddy's credit card. Some leave their homes and families, and then they never come back. It could be interpreted as a good or bad thing, depending on your perspective, but that was just about the sort of thing Jo was searching for. She wanted to last. She wanted to be without her parents for as long as possible, just to see how long she could survive without a crack. She was only eighteen, but she felt like most of her life had already been past lived. She wanted to break free of her sheltered life and learn life lessons from people who had already learned it the hard way. She was decently attractive, she was mature and smart possibly even beyond human comprehension, and, most of all, she was skilled. "Living a sheltered life" for Jo was a different meaning than most. She was an assassin. She had a license to kill... Literally. She wanted to put her abilities to use, and take the time while doing it to study some of the other supernaturals. She had never been allowed around others with powers like her. It was a new experience, and one she was willing to suffer the consequences for. The power of learning. An eternal student, she was.

Although Jo wasn't the most attractive of people, she definitely had a unique appearance. She was of Indian and then Euro-Canadian descent, so her skin was a sort of olive-y honey brown what's identification seemed near impossible to place. Her hair was pitch-black and silky smooth, self-styling to her every order, which made it a damn shame to most that she kept it cut short, like that of a boy, with a single long section of hair let out to one side of her face in an edgy swooped bang like most teenagers would dream of, and she took great pride of her hair, often treating it like a sort of child or close pet. Her eyes were an extremely bright and light brown, almost seeming gold, especially when hit by a spot of sunlight her eyes would seem to glow like crystals. However, if you look closely you will see flecks of yellow and green dancing around in the color, and they become to seem more interesting than the eye would first notice. She was a tall and extremely skinny girl with almost no curves except for the fact that her waist was small enough that her hips became to look wide, and her legs were long and shapely, something that, along with her facial fairness, caused her to constantly be bothered by both sexes, although she didn't much care for anything past casual. On a similar note, her face was exotic and mixed together quite well, save for the presence of dark circles under her eyes, the effect of recovering anorexia and lack of sleep over a long amount of time.

Nevertheless, she was often complimented for her looks. She looked very young for her age, and kept slim no matter how much she ate. She was an aspiring model, and thought herself that she played the part well. Currently, she was wearing a monotone piece she had put together herself -- A black and white beach-tee with a tribal pattern imprinted on the fabric along with a pair of short white cut-off shorts to show off her long legs, which had a slim black belt wrapped around the waist. Clipped to the belt was a pair of black suspenders that matched with her intentionally geeky-looking rimmed glasses and studded black cap. She also adorned her feet in black platform booties and let her makeup be simple and monotone as her outfit was - Just a brush of powder to even the skin tone, and liquid black eyeliner in a small wing, with white under the waterline to enlarge her eyes and rimmed with a black pencil outwards, a technique she had perfected over the years and wore the same way every day. As she stepped her cute little bootie through the door frame, her legs most likely catching everyone in close radius' attention immediately and letting her odd style follow shortly behind, she captured an ominous feel from the area. Something about this place was different. Not wrong or particularly right in any way, just... Different. Like something had locked her in. Told her that she needed to study. Find the secrets of this place, crack open the can of mysteries and solve them one at a time. Hot damn, I'm good at my job, she said to herself, chuckling lightly in her mind. Naw, she didn't have a job. But this was close enough. Just call her a full-time adventurer! There was only one thing she needed out of life, and this. This was the place! She had found it!

Fun.

I'm begging on you please, don't take my man!

Location :: ...The Black Spot?
Company :: Not a soul.
Thoughts :: This place is new. I wonder if I could write a book about it...
O u t f i t

And I can <{[ easily understand ]}>

How you could easily [[ take my man ]]

But you don't know {( what he means to me, )} Jolene.

[[ Hello.~
I hope I'm not coming at a bad time. I'm not really certain on what's currently occuring IC, but I'll just introduce my character and let it flow. c: ]]

[Julian Varys]

"Eh."


[. Shoulders lifted and fell in the form of a shrug, one higher than the other for the latter had been damaged recently and still proved tender in motion. Julian took hold of his own glass, half filled, and brought it to his lips for a drink before setting it back down.]

"I get around well enough, when the situation calls for it, but I'd rather keep holed up. "

[Meridian Isenguard]

The sound of people talking softly filled the main room of the bar as he walked in. He was glad that this place didn't have some kind of crazy theme to it. It was just a normal bar, something that he needed. He walked over to the bar and sat in one of the stools there. He sat maybe a few seats down from everyone else, at the corner of the bar. His eyes scanned the room for a pool table or a jukebox, then to the selection of drafts the establishment had to offer.

[ursi tonitru]

Her head would turn slightly to note the two newcomers before switching back to the bartender.

The mage nodded and pursed her lips, running a finger along the rim of her glass. Her gaze moved downward, a hand coming up to cup her chin in thought.

"I can understand that."

No matter how little the guy got out, he seemed to be able to accommodate for his customers well. It was a fairly nice establishment, and they even had her favorite gin. Sign of the business savvy.

Her eyes met his as a playful smirk crossed her face. "Does the name have any significance in that sense? 'The Black Hole'?" She sat back as she sipped at her gin, ready to be silent for a moment so that he could attend to his new customers.