The Skylit Canvas [Fightclub; OPEN AND HIRING!]

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[Zukarin Oleander]

[The details on the introductory and directory are updated each Friday if need be.]

INTRODUCTION

Trekking up a hill that covers the star strung sky to the east, you can set eyes upon a large platform. Upon this platform is a warehouse. It looks abandoned. Covered in the haze of the altitude, its no big surprise that its true silhouette is a mystery. You continue to pace yourself up and around the basin, like a winding staircase. The air is typically dry, a feeble breeze rolling over the mesa cleans up the lingering tension and stale air. You take hold of the door handle. It feels.. sandy? The rust must have coated the handle over the years of harsher days, climatically.

The door swings open..

A bar to the left, engulfed in a barrage of colorful flora. To the right, a piano. A 'very' large grand piano. Possibly the grandest. Extravagantly laced with a piny trim, the piano sung to the visitors. Even the combatants, as they vigorously swung fists, and planted blows. Like serenading soldiers before sending them off to battle, the contestants next to fight sat silently, swaying to the melodic rifts of the grandest piano.


The floorboards were a cherry-stained red and creaked like a rusted door hinge. The walls were decorated with the exact same set of planks, but with a beige offset. Also, as one can set eyes upon the wall, they can easily notice that its been embroidered with a dark metal, possibly some type of rock. It glimmered slightly when introduced to light. Step back from the wall to the west and you can read 'The Skylit Tavern'. The larger portions of the rock seemed steamed due to the high altitude of the location.


Taking a glimpse at the ceiling.. you see a circular chandelier, and beyond that.. nothing. The rafters above seemed endless as the last bit of light that could reach them reflected off of the screws at the bottom of each plank. There was really no telling was actually lingered up there. The previous owners, The Oleander Seniors were the last to journey above the ground floor since establishing the building in 1943.


And now, as one would usually sit at the bar and have a drink, it seems as if there is whisper to surround the entire vicinity that calls for you, and you only. As if the walls were to speak, saying..

"Please, have a seat.."











.

[Zukarin Oleander]

TABLE OF CONTENTS

[1.] Introduction

[2.] Table of Contents

[3.] Roleplaying, Rules, and, Preferences

[4.] Staff, Applications

[5.] Events

[6.] Registered Contestants

[7.] Sponsors and Advertisements

[Zukarin Oleander]

ROLEPLAYING, RULES, AND PREFERENCES

Roleplaying:

Roleplaying? Well, thats what barton town is, isn't it? Sure is.
I'm here to enjoy the roleplaying, just as you the guest are. Be aware that everyone is here to have fun and communicate in an imaginative way, shape, and form.

Although we personally do not discriminate against any race, color, blah, blah, stereotyping, etc. We do however, have a PREFERENCE as to whom we would like to roleplay with.

Illiteracy is understandable, to an extent. The Skylit Canvas will only tolerate so much illiteracy-

We 'prefer' the literate, and those working to become 'literate'.

General Rules:

-Do not link any type of porn, or other explicit or overly graphic images.

-Please, refrain from cybering.

-Respect the staff, otherwise, the management will have you removed and blacklisted.

-When roleplaying in a battle-like situation, please refer to the Combat Roleplaying Rules



Combat Roleplaying Rules:

-Do not godmod. One warning, then a V.I.P. box in the Blacklisted section.

- Entertain the audience, please. Give us a show, We personally enjoy when theres something to talk about other than the weather you know?

-Before fighting, register with the Owner, Or Co-Owner. We will add you to the registration clipboard and personally schedule you an event.

- Be classy. I understand if your character is a dirtbag, thats fine. Just don't.. blow up my establishment with some overpowered goku-ripped spirit bomb bullshit. Thank you.

[Zukarin Oleander]

STAFF, APPLICATIONS

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Founders

Owner: Zukarin Oleander



Co-Owner: Blayne Oleander


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Management

Manager: The Last Barbarian

Replacment Manager: Zoulecia Alida Izari

Employee Clipboard

Head Bartender: Chocolate_Daddy


Bartender: Fated Wings


Bartender: Xhex Hess

Bartender: OPEN

--Security--

Head Bouncer: OPEN

Bouncer: OPEN

Bouncer: OPEN



'The Beloved Ring Gal Club!'



Lead Gal: Fated Wings


2nd Seat Gal: Zoulecia Alida Izari



3rd Seat Gal:

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APPLICATIONS:



First off, please keep in mind of one of the rules posted in the post beforehand. If you already lack in the literacy department, please do not bother sending my a private message for an application. I won't even open it if you've disappointed me thus far, bahaha.

BUT, if you do have an uncanny ability to use your imagination in a 'literate' manner, please do not hesitate to fill out one of our applications posted below!



RP NAME:

YEARS ON GAIA:

RP AGE:

LAST COMPLETED LANGUAGE ARTS COURSE:

POSITION APPLIED FOR:

PAST EXPERIENCE IN POSITION APPLIED FOR:

OTHER (anything you would like to add to spice up your application.)


--That Pm goes to Zukarin Oleander, to those paying attention. biggrin

[Zukarin Oleander]

EVENTS!!

No events marked as of yet.

[Zukarin Oleander]

COMBATANT CLIPBOARD

Clipboard Empty

[Zukarin Oleander]

ADS

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[Zukarin Oleander]

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[reserved] stare

[Vakus The Malefic]

With a sigh, Joe pressed his way through the clad-wooden doors. He looked about him. The scent of rich wood and scents filled his nose, greeting him immediately. "Hello thread..." He said with a dark tone.

[Zukarin Oleander]

He sat up in his cot, gazing down at his feet.. "Gross." Zukarin proclaimed. He hadn't showered at all yesterday and now, the pheromones were beginning to accumulate. He smelled much like a gym bag that had been dropped inside a cave full of bat s**t and had been discovered months later..

He lifted himself from his makeshift bed and out of the door to his room. Zukarin was groggy. The day before went by entirely too fast for him to pick out any particular events that might have happened and so.. there was nothing to look forward to today. "Hmm.. la-la.. la..." Zukarin hummed to himself as he waded to the pantry set behind the counter of the bar. Not sure why he did, considering he had known there was nothing to eat.


After throwing the last empty box of Poptarts in the tin can, Zukarin dragged a** back to his room for a moment. Soon he returned to the bar with a plastic bag and a pack of zigzags. Yawning, he began to untie the bag..

"Goodmorning no one.." He called out to the warehouse, the rafters creaking at the sound of life. The mornings were always so dull. No fighting, no bitches, no money, and drinking was out of the question when it was going to take a couple of hours to recuperate from today's hangover.