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[This RP will be centered around one place only, the Bloody Art Tavern. All RP in this thread must take place in, or at least near, the tavern.]
Description:
In the center of a rather grassy clearing, was a large red brick building, set with a thatched roof. From a distance, it appeared perfectly normal, and in fact, one would not suspect anything more than a simple farmer's house from the outside. A simple dirt path lead through the tall uncut grass to the entrance, which was a wooden door, seemingly patched and fixed many times. A typical tavern sign hung beside the door, with the carving of a paintbrush burnt into the wood. Once one stepped inside though, their outlook on the place would change quite rapidly.

The main part of the tavern was a large open space in the center, with many tables decorating the landscape. Each table was made of various bones, fused together to create a rather bumpy and random landscape for one to rest a plate on. The center pillar of the tables were generally a thighbone of some large creature, with feet splayed out at the bottom to create a bit of stability. In the center of each table was a small doll, carved out of bone and skin to represent a humanoid creature, and the head of the dolls were topped with black candles, that burned with a cool blue flame, never seeming to leak wax atop the art that supported them. The seating around each of the circular tables were works of art in themselves, crafted to look like bone thrones, though each had their own uniqueness about them, due to the different materials and creatures they were made of.

Along three walls of the tavern, including the one the entrance was on, were booths. They seemed upholstered rather normally, till a closer inspection revealed that the leather of the seating seemed to be grafted from several different creatures to create a rather calico-looking effect on the leather. The tables in the booths were constructed almost the same as the ones in the center of the tavern, except for the fact that they were more rectangular to allow for the booth seating. There was also a large horn set at the top of each booth, with a curtain along the bones length that allowed it to be drawn for privacy. The curtain was made of simple purple felt, stark contrast to the leathers of the seating.

The ceiling of the roof had a raftor design similar to most buildings it resembled, but hanging from the center along a rather thick chain, was a large chandeleir, crafted from the pelvis of a rather large humanoid. The polished white bone had chains imbedded all over its bottom half, and from each chain hung a large carnivorous tooth, point down, with more black candles burning atop the flat part, where they would connect to the skull. The candles reflected light off the pelvis bone, and as slight winds blew in, created a rather dazzling lighting effect with the constant change in reflection.

The fourth wall of the tavern was the bar region. The bar itself seemed to be constructed from the spine of a large serpent, with the ribcage still attached. The ribs had been carved out in certain places to allow for bone stools to be set into the alcoves, allowing for comfortable seating for anyone at the bar. The spine itself had been smoothed out to give a relatively flat surface to eat or drink upon. Above the bar hung the head of a serpent of similar size, mouth open, with glass lenses set in each eye, and seemingly another black candle behind each, which caused rainbows to sometimes be cast across the ceiling when the candles flickered right, otherwise giving the serpents head an undead appearance.

Behind the bar, only truly apparent when you stepped practically up to the bar, were racks upon racks of jars. Inside the jars, almost as if the racks were a display case, were various body parts. Organs, skin, muscles, tissue, occasionally labelled with what species and part they were from, more often only scribed with a symbol that would probably have no meaning to those that did not work at the bar. From the sheer variety of bottled goods on the wall, it was clear this place served a multitude of interests.

Description for Braeden Aska (since he will move around a bit):
Braeden Aska is a tall, athletic humanoid, with long unkempt or uncombed red hair draping down to his shoulderblades. Around his neck was an iron collar, with a bit of small chain draping from the front, though the last link was shattered, leaving it only about four links long. His torso was covered in a simple black shirt, a bit ripped and frayed at the edges, with the occasional oddly colored stain marring the fabric. The back of the shirt was ripped apart to let two large bat-like wings stretch out to their full wingspan if need be, which was close to eight feet from wingtip to wingtip. Usually however, they were folded neatly behind his back, covering it, but allowing him to move about agilely. Up one of his arms was a long length of chain, made of a metal similar to silver in appearance. The chain seemed to loop around his arm several times, before linking down to his belt and around his waist in one long chain. At the end was a hooked blade, with several sharp barbs. Usually, the hook was tucked into the sleeve of the shirt, out of sight except for the occasional glint with the sleeve rolled back. The chain belt held up a pair of brown khakis, faded from years of use, and stained from the same materials that colored the shirt. The khakis ended in shredded bottoms, which dangled around clawlike feet, marring the mans humanoid appearance (more than the wings already did, that is). The claws were the same color as his skin, caucasian toned, except ending in five large reptilian clawed toes, and one dew claw like object in the heel for balance. The man's hands were perfectly normal it seemed, as well as his face, though his cheekbones and facial charecteristics might have led some humans to see him as attractive, or at least decent looking. Marring this a bit, was his eyes, which had vertically slitted pupils like a reptile, colored a smoky red that seemed to reflect glints of light when looked directly into.

And currently, Braeden is seated behind the bar, atop a rather large bone stool, watching the tavern carefully as he occasionally hops down to serve a patron that asks for a meal or drink. The tavern has a small crowd in it, as it usually does, never one to attract too large of a clientele.

Entering coolly within the vestiges of the building, Sephora couldn't help but glance around in vivid curiosity toward her new surroundings. Her heeled feet patted in soft staccatos across the floor, flame-lidded eyes darting to and fro as if she were a nimble young kitten exploring an uncharted facet of the hostile world.

As Sephora walked her skin was almost translucent in the dim lighting of the area, as if she were carved completely out of marble, her scarlet locks falling in flaming pools down her back. Finally, as if there were no nook or cranny left uncovered by the redhead's hungrily curious gaze, she seated herself upon a forlorn bone-crafted table at the center of the room, her violet kimono flowing like liquid silk about her petite features. Its golden threaded patterns seemed to shimmer with their own inner light, casting tiny flecks of shadows
beneath the dim lighting of the bar.

Although it seemed every bone-embedded and frightening object within the building cast darkened shadows that floated like marionettes across the ground, she herself appeared to lack one. Instead, a spectrum of color where the backdrop of a tangible reflection in the light took its place, the shades of the kimono and her scarlet features replacing any thread of shadow that the girl would have reflected.

Appearing only the age of eighteen, she glanced about with a demure spark of amusement in her eyes-the only part of her face that would ever tell any fleeting emotion beyond her stone-set, stoic lips. Her interest settled upon the jars nestled together against the wall, the various body parts appearing tantalizing within the surreal glow of the bar. Immediately her nimble fingertips settled upon a satchel bag against her hip, stroking the cool bronze coins that lay within as if they were infinitely precious.

Sighing softly, the girl mused to herself the nature of this bar's popularity. Her frosted digits immediately left the satchel about her hip and traced another object along the opposite hip, strapped along the kimono's golden sash that held the silken fabric of her outfit together. A porcelain mask, resembling the face of a kitsune, stared with almost a soul of its own towards the high ceiling, its lack of nose making it appear a ghastly creature rather than an animal of lore. As Sephora waited for another to appear, content with the caressing of the mask at her side, the girl wondered just the value of those jars along the front-and what sort of place this truly was.

Following the same path outside the tavern as the second woman had, a strikingly white wolf trotted up, after the woman had gone inside. The wolf's ears, formerly slicked against its head, perked up, the wolf's eyes, which were formerly narrowed, widened slightly, blinking a few times as if in disbelief, a rather odd emotion for a wolf to exhibit.

While the wolf's intentions for the woman he had been stalking were questionable, it was apparent that the wolf obviously did not seek to continue the hunt further, though perhaps it did, though in a different sense and for a different reason.

The wolf padded up the dirt path and nosed the door open, which was loose after the woman had supposedly shut it, trotting in and looking around, sniffing the air. The place reeked of various supernatural races that had either come and gone or come and stayed, and the wolf picked them up with ease.

Though he had no real desire to show these fellow supernatural creatures or simply sadistic human mortals his true form, he decided to assume it before he went too much further, before the barkeep said the phrase 'no animals,' which would have almost certainly annoyed him.

His true form, which was actually a misnomer, being a disguise for his true form, the wolf, and actually a fake form, was that of a tall man, standing at about six feet and four inches, which, while it was a considerable height, he was certainly not the tallest man around. The man bore dark brown eyes that seemed almost black, and he wore a large black coat that went down to his ankles, accompanying his long black hair in the same area. His bangs were spiky and went every-which-way, save for backwards, and they blocked his eyes in some parts, though they didn't disturb him in a fight all that often.

He had a smirk upon his face as he walked up to the bar in a very nonchalant manner, sitting quite comfortably upon one of the stools, looking at the various racks of jars and wondering exactly what they had in them, knowing that they were obviously kinds of meat, including organs.

While some may have considered such options grotesque and strange, this man often recalled that mortals and humans ate such things as chicken livers, the intestines of pigs, and other such things without really thinking. Organs of other creatures weren't too big of a leap away, and so he didn't really think much of it.

While he was certain that other patrons of the tavern sported their own weapons, this man really had few, other than the small, double-bladed knife with an elongated handle in between the two blades, which were curved in different manners. However this blade held a secret, due to its ability to turn into a bladed staff when a special motion was made, a motion that couldn't be made accidentally easily.

However this weapon was beneath his coat, and out of sight and out of mind, and he didn't plan on using it. He only wanted to have a bite or two to eat, something strong to drink, and maybe a good looking woman to put his arm around for the night...

[ Message temporarily off-line ]

(OOC: Just in case any of the people who graced my tavern with their presence decide to post again)

It had been a rather slow day in the tavern, but Braeden knew that his clientele came and went depending on if his customer base was being persecuted in the nearby areas or not. Hence when people actually started to trickle in to the place, Braeden was nowhere to be seen. Only after a long delay did he appear from the back room of the bar, pulling a black shirt on over his torso, having to fold his wings then extend them to slip them through the holes in the back of the shirt. His companion was out of the back room soon after him, and the feiry haired human looking woman blew him a kiss as she headed towards the exit.

Braeden looked over the occupants of his place, and then glanced at the racks of his supplies to make sure noone had stolen any of his supplies while he was relaxing. With a confident nod, he turned around and pulled his stool out from under the bar, and with an acrobatic jump he seated himself on it, both feet up on the bartop "The tavern is open, and will be taking your indulgences." He didn't seem at all thrown off by the interruption in his relaxation, a smug grin on his face, and an idle little tap of his boot on the bartop created a hollow thumping rythm in the relatively quiet tavern.

"Mikhail..."

The cherub-faced young woman repeated the name delicately between her parted lips, as if indulging in an exotic delicacy, savoring every letter as it graced her tongue and resonated hollowly off of the far walls like a melancholy song. Rosy eyes gazed upon his frame in a look of a spectrum of mottled emotions, as if her face were flirting with a masquerade of visual facades, making her true intentions unclear to even the most intelligent of men. While pondering to herself, she rose a thin brow with a look of mute, sanguine reluctance, before bringing herself to full posture-which, as she stood a mere 5'3'' within the looming background of the much larger bar, she appeared more dwarfed and vulnerable than ever-and speaking in the lowest of stoically burlesque voices,

"Not a name you can find in any of the areas nearby-you are a foreigner, I assume?"

Coolly dodging his inquiries for her own name, Sephora shrugged the question mildly off of her thin shoulders for the sole fact that she never revealed more than what needed be to any sort of stranger she could encounter-unless she intended to kill that said person, and for now the eccentric and rather mysterious creature before her seemed to pose no more than a miniscule threat. Thick black lashes lulling across the lids of her eyes like netted butterflies, she gracefully brought a thin, nimble finger to trace his outstretched palm-not accepting his gesture of welcome, but not denying it. If anything, the woman was a tad bit bothered by immediate physical contact; making yourself appear open and wanton to any man, let alone any sort of tangible being on this earth, she had learned long, long ago, was an inexcusable error.

But this man was interesting. Curiously biting her lower lip, she could taste the bitter iron of her blood forming droplets across her throat. Her scarlet locks framed her porcelain face like an ancient doll, and as she cocked her head to further examine this man before her, the folds of her kimono rippled like fluorescent waves beneath the waxen glow of the building.

"Well, whatever you are," The woman murmured, interest suddenly shown in the flickering flame-hued irises of her wide eyes, "I take it you are good company, perhaps even enough for a lady's momentary interest."

A brooding, almost wicked playfulness accentuated itself like a toxin along the edge of her final words, poisonous like a devil's hiss. The ruby-haired child knew what she was implying, flowing so irresistibly from her mouth and pooling into the air like liquid silk to the ears. Her lips pursed upwards, the smile of the Cheshire Cat itself.

Things were getting quite interesting.