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 Posted: Tue Jul 21, 2015 11:01 am
Subsequently named for the large pair of wings stored on the back wall of the tavern believed to be those of a fallen angel, the care taker of the facility is known to taunt the still living wings to entertain the costumers. Though no one can conclude how a pair of wings without a body can still move when jabbed with a hot poker no one argues with the result. Like most taverns of the time The Fallen has a humble yet ominous feel to it as you enter from the main door to the south and before you after seeing the long ivory counter top of the bar on the back wall the pair of black wings bound and mounted in an iron cage. The bar as humble as can be to it's patrons is a comfortable yet strange place to seat and as no expense was spared when furnating the tavern everything from the floor to the ceiling is made of dark mahogany and lined with steel or cored with steel and iron to add support. Once inside a patron can enjoy fine music played and song by a pair of talented ladies who preform daily and if the mood calls nightly. The main room lined with booths on both the south and east walls while the west wall is for the performers.
this is a humble bar in which patrons can take their time relaxing with comfy chairs , tables and even a clean place to eat the bar has many drinks to provide and even a few things on the menu to eat to satisfy every one though now in construction it is still running as modifications are made . the bartender is occasionally unwelcoming at first of new people until they are known or are talkative allowing him to sense motive in people usually listening .
if asked to bring some thing frequently the bartender will remember your order at that point call it your usual .. ( i will give you a different version of my rpc for you guys to react with .. )
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Posted: Tue Jul 28, 2015 10:49 am
 Untill one night when the bar was especially open late as it began to close the care taker poked the wings one last time as a good bye and a red moon rose as both cage and wings began to glow with a red covered aura as the wings spread out and shattered the cage and its bindings leaving a nude Cursed Angel with a demonic marking on its neck due to being caught once by demons and tortured for years and branded looked at the man who's fate was to soon be death as he was slaughtered on the spot and the angel stood in the bar looking around covered in blood and licked it off of his hands the smell driving him mad as the next day he came to his senses and looked at him self ashamed and hurt inside he began to clean up and refurbish the place before the customer s came in and took the care taker's place as he hoped everything would go alright he went to barrow a few of the old bartenders clothes and dressed up in them as he cleaned himself and the bathroom hiding his wings and his sorrowful look as he came out dressed and clean he put a hand thru his raven colored hair and opened the shop and had since opened the fallen bar with a fallen angel as a bartender. The man soon stood at the ivory counter and began cooking delectable meals something the old caretaker didn't ever do himself as the angel hummed a katana knife he found while scrounging around the bar on his lower back and his sleeves were up as he used his ears to listen for people and made a number of sweet s and sandwiches and side dishes all pre made except for meats and anything fried . happy as he was humming music while cooking waiting . soon the man fi ishes making things as customers come in As he begins to bartend giving people drinks and occasionally food to eat business was slow at the moment and he hoped it would get better.
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Posted: Wed Jul 29, 2015 10:34 pm
A lone figure trudged down the silent and empty streets of the oddly nondescript town, a distinct silhouette even in the dim lighting of the late evening hours. The man, his presence preluded by heavy breathing and rhythmic footsteps, found that, despite being quite a cultured individual, he could not identify the country in which he was located, seeing nothing about the architecture that could be traced back to any one part of the world. The fact confused him greatly, but he pressed on nonetheless and eventually found himself standing outside of what appeared to be a bar of some sort. Was it a pub or a beer hall? Again he failed to see anything which could be used to identify it one way or the other.
Regardless, he debated the merits on going inside. It seemed as though he had been wandering for eons, all without finding much in the way of any forces hostile towards the Empire and the thought of sitting, even briefly, was greatly appealing, but a deep, gnawing feeling of duty made him hesitate, insisting that he instead keep searching for enemies and dispatching them accordingly. The Kaiser would sure want him to rest, though, after such dedicated service, would he not? He absent-mindedly reached for a medal pinned to his service jacket which had been awarded to him for exemplary performance in the field.
Eventually he decided that he would enter, turning the knob and pushing the door inward before stepping inside. His uniform showed its wear vividly in the lighting of the building, frayed ends, rust and caked-on mud and blood all screamed for attention. What remained of the hobnails in his boot soles rasped against the flooring as he strode in cautiously, noting possible exits mentally. Once he was satisfied that there were no enemies to be found he finally acknowledged the bartender, greeting him with a silent nod, before making his way to the nearest chair and planting his backside in it. He did not relax, however, and his head remained on a swivel, keeping a keen eye on everything. His rifle was laid across his lap, both hands firmly clutching it.
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Posted: Thu Jul 30, 2015 5:12 am
Generic Infantry A lone figure trudged down the silent and empty streets of the oddly nondescript town, a distinct silhouette even in the dim lighting of the late evening hours. The man, his presence preluded by heavy breathing and rhythmic footsteps, found that, despite being quite a cultured individual, he could not identify the country in which he was located, seeing nothing about the architecture that could be traced back to any one part of the world. The confused him greatly, but he pressed on nevertheless and eventually found himself standing outside of what appeared to be a bar of some sort. Was it a pub or a beer hall? Again he failed to see anything which could be used to identify it one way or the other. Regardless, he debated the merits on going inside. It seemed as though he had been wandering for eons, all without finding much in the way of any forces hostile towards the Empire and the thought of sitting, even briefly, was greatly appealing, but a deep, gnawing feeling of duty made him hesitate, insisting that he instead keep searching for enemies and dispatching them accordingly. The Kaiser would sure want him to rest, though, after such dedicated service, would he not? He absent-mindedly reached for a medal pinned to his service jacket which had been awarded to him for exemplary performance in the field. Eventually he decided that he would enter, turning the knob and pushing the door inward before stepping inside. His uniform showed its wear vividly in the lighting of the building, frayed ends, rust and caked-on mud and blood all screamed for attention. What remained of the hobnails in his boot soles rasped against the flooring as he strode in cautiously, noting possible exits mentally. Once he was satisfied that there were no enemies to be found he finally acknowledged the bartender, greeting him with a silent nod, before making his way to the nearest chair and planting his backside in it. He did not relax, however, and his head remained on a swivel, keeping a keen eye on everything. His rifle was laid across his lap, both hands firmly clutching it. The bartender came on his own accord to the table where the lad was , then smiling he spoke " Hi I'm Zenbon ,I will take your order for today what will you have? We have an array of foods and sweets as well as fine alcoholic drinks and even non alcoholic drinks if you don't feel like drinking just ask and I will see if we have it most assuredly we do though. " Zenbon gave the man a menu and went off to the bar and began servicing others as he waited for the man to be ready to order
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Posted: Thu Jul 30, 2015 7:41 am
The soldier, ever emitting the same sound through his gas mask, stiffened a bit, reflexively, as the bar keep approached him. He gripped his rifle, ready to spring from his seat and fight, but his less savage instincts won the day and he resisted the urge. The man was not here to harm him. This was not a battlefield; it was a - well he still had not quite worked out what it was, but it was not a place to fight. In fact, the only belligerent element in the room seemed to be himself. Immediately a wave of embarrassment washed over him. What would the Kaiser think of him being ready to attack civilians? Surely he would detest it. His internal debate finished, he relaxed a bit.
The strange man reached him and began speaking to him. So it was England. It had to be! Suddenly everything made sense, at least in his mind. He realized, however incorrectly, that the lack of defining architecture could be attributed to the English having no sense of national identity. As the man handed him a menu of sorts his thought process was interrupted. He hadn't heard what the man said beyond his first few words, but he wouldn't have understood even had he been listening. In fact he had only correctly guessed that the man's spoken language was English by chance. Reluctantly, and a bit less gracefully than he had intended, he accepted the ornate booklet, taking an unsure hand off of his rifle to receive it.
As he was left alone to decided on what he would like, he found that the primitive, if elegant, Englishmen had no understanding of how to write, and so, to his eyes, the menu was illegible, as good as scribbling on a napkin with a paintbrush.
He lifted his head from the parchment to look back at the odd gentleman behind the bar.
"Entschuldigen Sie, mein guter Mann , haben Sie alles in der richtigen Sprache geschrieben?" He inquired.
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Posted: Thu Jul 30, 2015 9:14 am
The night was early and weary travelers be seeking refuge in inns, brothels,pubs and hotels if possible ,but one certain weary traveler chose a tavern which piqued his curiousity. It was rumored that the tavern had once displayed a pair of black wings , but said display was gone when the new tavern owner took over, so this certain weary traveler dare check the place if an anomaly happened. Although he wasnt near the tavern yet and was only near the towns entrance ,he could surely feel an odd sensation but was uncertain at first.He was only able to confirm it when the mournful breeze appeared unintentionally and single petal flew inside the taverns direction.
He walks inside and declares an order of bacardi lime cocktail even though he hasnt taken a seat yet.A bit suprised he was when he saw another man inside the tavern ,for what he thought the uninentional appearance of the mournful breeze was caused by the "anomaly" was only cause by a soldier who has befriended and acompanied death. The traveler gives a slight smirk ,for what he thought would be a short investigation seemed to be hinting something ominous.
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Posted: Thu Jul 30, 2015 10:10 am
The young soldier stirred in his seat uneasily as another patron entered the tavern. The man was clearly a regular, or at least familiar with how such places in the area tended to operate, as he ordered with even taking a seat or looking at a menu beforehand, or at least that is what the young Prussian assumed had transpired as he could not understand what was being said. He could not quite grasp why, but something about this new arrival set his nerves on end. It was very likely that he was simply paranoid, but he could convince himself of it and resigned to just keeping an eye on him for the moment. In the meantime he waited for the bar keep to fetch him a menu that he could read.
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