@Mimic@Overlord24@Dark Light

Alex remained standing in the doorway and kept her back turned towards the bed. Not by means of disrespect, but to ease her curiosity. If she were facing him, she would surely be studying him quite intently, and making him uncomfortable was not on the to-do list. She also wanted to keep Alex from barging his way through. His young, naive mind was begging for a fight, or any reason to draw his sword.

Weakly, the man spoke up, "If you have any questions, go ahead. Though, I'd like to talk to whoever is in charge around here." Alex cocked her head just enough to see the outline of her face, shrouded in hair, "Dorian owns the place, talk to him. He should be up 'ere sooner or later. You caused quite the ruckus." She looked around the room for a moment and then turned to face him. "Alright, I don't care where' ya came from, what happened or what ya are, but why are ya 'ere?"

Just then she heard the echo of footsteps from the stairs and she turned her head back to the doorway to see Clay with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning on the doorframe with his jaw tight and his features pulled into almost a scowl. "So who's this guy?" Clay gestures to the man on the bed. "n' I hope someone's paying for this room." Alex holds her posture and almost turns up her nose at him, not enough to be a complete bitch, but enough to let him know that she wants no more of their previous interactions.

"Why dontcha ask 'im yerself. And I'm sure he can take it up with Dorian." Alex turned from him and everyone else in the room and went to stand by the window. She remained indignant and reserved while she felt Clay's eyes bore into her back.

@Dark Light@Alisdragon911
As soon as the question left his mouth, he noticed the elf he passed earlier was now tending the bar. He kicked himself, always ask the bartender first, they know everything. Unsurprisingly the elf, who was a bit fancily dressed for a barmaid, looked at him and replied. “Dorian is at a table in the back, he is the one in the fancy suit drinking fancy wine.”

With a quick smile and a nod doorman started walking towards the back. Almost kicking himself again he turned back towards the bar.

“Oh and could I get a bourbon? Whatever you’ve got is fine.” With a drink finally on the way, and a description in his pocket, he makes his way towards the rear of the bar.

It didn’t take long to find Dorian. By himself with a bottle of wine on ice, and a notebook sitting on the table. This Dorian seemed to carry himself in an almost regal manner, and wore clothing that could only be described as ostentatious. Doorman had dealt with these kinds of people before, but had never been fond of prolonged conversations with them. Doorman assumed he was most likely a corporate investor or possibly the owner, giving the place a quick check-up. It was the odd intensity that exuded from this man that made doorman's uneasiness only grow.

Approaching the table Doorman noticed Dorian was in deep thought. So he gave a quick whistle to try to gain the man's attention.
“Hey, you Dorian? The man who screamed earlier, he’s upstairs and I heard you might know someone who could help.” Doorman was hoping he wouldn’t have to rely on his own contacts, they were rather rude, not to mention expensive. He’d rather only call on them for a more... personal, emergency.

@Alisdragon911@Dark Light
Groaning Tic sat up in a rather unfamiliar room, he had been laid out on what he could only assume was a medical bench. He’d been striped down to his pants and his shirt and jacket were laid out at the other end of the bench. Not questioning it too much me slowly crawled over to his folded clothes and started getting dressed, this placed seemed a little cleaner than most street doc’s he’d been too.

As he flexed his wings to fit them through the back of his shirt the events that had transpired earlier in what he hoped was the same evening came flooding back. Losing twice in one night and one to a freaking mage, yep no one's going to be hearing about this missadventure if he could help it.

However with the bad came some good, his wings looked to be in pristine condition. Lazily he ran his hand through the ethereal feathers that made up the span, he’d figured it was going to be weeks before he’d be in the air again. Looking over his effects his wallet was noticeably lighter now, presumably the doc had taken his payment and left him to sort himself out.

Extending his wings to their full span he gently glided across the room quietly latching his hand onto the doors handle and giving it a tug. Though he’d only been without it for a few hours Tic relished the feeling of his legs dangling below him not having to worry about balance or silly things like that.

Once in the hall he saw all too familiar figure of Clay, entering a room further down the hall. Good, that meant he could avoid that conversation a little while longer, maybe get a little drunk again too. Carefully making an obvious arc around the door clay had entered Tic made his way down into the main tavern.

Approaching the bar Tic gestured to the specials board and landed heavily on a bar stool.“Yo, ‘tender, a glass of whatever ‘The Dwarf Toss’ is!”

@Continuum

Dorian was going through the wine at an uncharacteristically fast pace when he heard his name called.

"Is he awake?"
"Is he breathing?"
He coldly replies never looking up from his glass, the last remaining splash of his expensive wine swirled around the edges of its confinement leaving a red shadow in its wake.

Dorian looks slightly disappointed as he brings the glass to his lips and tips his head back finishing the last of his drink. He takes a moment to savour the fleeting taste before turning to the man talking to him. Before saying anything he looks him over, his eyes intently examining his outfit.

"So, why do you need me exactly?"

@timelord1101@Dark Light

The air of the room changed as the man in the doorway folded his arms aggressively, no sign of restraint as his face burned with a riotous passion. He looked strong and on the edge of his feet, ready for something, anything, to jump from the shadows or grab him from behind. There was a hint of something more though, something more primal than human. Before Zyrid could look any deeper a strange fey creature, visible shaken up and beaten around, walked shyly past the door-blocker in avoidance.

This place was truly diverse tonight. Zyrid took another moment to glance at the slight bulge on the back of this creature, indicating wings or perhaps an elongated spinal column. Never the less Zyrid could not help but return his attention to the one who leaned in the door way, who growled a query and whose heartbeat Zyrid heard from where he sat. Sliding his hands down his thighs and to his knees, Zyrid pulled himself onto his feet and took one meaningful step towards this man.

A slow calculated inspection followed, the grind of an adventurous life filled Zyrid's grey eyes, the image of action but also reaction. There was more to this one than there seemed, he saw it in the air about him, a florescence in magic - ancient and corrupt. The blood passing through the thick veins, circling the muscular body in powerful pulses, it wasn't pure. Beast and man, not an unheard of monstrosity, but certainly a conflict that haunted individuals to the realm of paranoia and ferocity.

Zyrid knew of the dark magic that created the first bond, though he was yet to educate himself on its spreading and eventually deterioration. Stood before him was a lycan, he could see the pointed eyes beneath the ones that looked through him now, he could visualize the snout and jagged sharp teeth. Zyrid, more than most, could understand that feeling - a lack of identification.

"Z-ry-d. My name is Zyrid, and your name?" His first statement was sent to the female, turning in his place to look at her backward profile by the window, a dim light raining over her wraith hair, summoning tinges of grey and silver. Though he asked the name of the Lycan as he turned back to face him, as he knew the females name already - Alex he believed. It was better to know names now, and plant them in his memory for the times to come.

@Pineappletumble@Dark Light
Dorian’s tone hit Doorman before his words did. It was that distant and almost condescending manner that he hated about corporate men. He had to force himself to keep a relatively neutral expression.

“Yeah he’s breathing, completely out of it last time I saw him though. Figured he could use some medical help, you dont scream that loud then pass out if you’re right as rain.” Shrugging, Doorman started back towards the bar. He’d given it a fair shot, now it was time for his reward.

“Anyway, it’s not like this is my problem.” Doorman he says, still facing away from the suit more in an attempt to remind himself than anything.

As the main room came into focus Doorman's eyes were drawn to a oddly familiar sight. Sitting at the bar, bright blue, was an old colleague.
“Tic, is that you?” There was no denying it, pixies were rare enough in cities, let alone one with that distinctive blue tone. “It’s been years! What are you doing in Seattle big guy?” He tried to keep the tone as sincere as possible, he knew Tic had a thing about his height. Taking the seat next to the pixie doorman gave him a big slap on the back, a wide grin stretched across his face.

@Continuum
The bar tonight had been anything but normal for Tic, stranger people seemed to frequent this bar… well stranger then what Tic had come to expect from the Melbourne crowd. He check his Com again to see if his crew was ok, no signal, so what else is new. For all its fancy liquor this bar had terrible reception.

Just as he was considering slamming the drink when it arrived so he could leave before clay returned, a voice cut into his thoughts. “Tic, is that you?”

On the one hand Tic was relieved to see a familiar face on the other, it was just as likely to lead even more trouble straight to him. Doorman looked a whole lot scruffier than when he last saw him, and he could see the years had not been as kind as the cowboy would have liked. “It’s been years! What are you doing in Seattle big guy?”

“Doorman! It's been too long, I missed ya ugly mug” he turned in his seat to better face the large man. “Last I heard you were in...” then something Doorman has said stuck in the violent sprites mind.

“Seattle, you sure you haven't been messing with Zen again?” he raised an eyebrow at his compatriot “Always thought Lady Liquor was your only mistress”

@Pineappletumble
Doorman laughed off Tic's comment. The little guy had always been a bit silly, and he figured this was just a joke he didn't get.

"Surprised to see you in a bar, rather then on the street outside, slowly bleeding out." Doorman laughed at his own joke, and looked the pixie over.
"You're looking good, well except for the clothes. You really need a new jacket, half a dozen holes is quite enough." He smirked, his own jacket was
in much poorer shape then Tic's, but that's the way he liked it.

"You keeping busy? Still running with Walker?" Doorman was genuinely curious, it'd been a while since he had checked in on the Melbourne scene.
A lot can change in only a few years.

@Continuum
"Walker went dark about the time you bailed, hasn’t really been any news of him since then” he got his arm up on the counter and rested against it speaking in a slightly hushed tone.

“Fixers are always looking for new talent though, Nisso picked me up a year or so ago, all he ever gives me are snatch and grabs” he shrugged “It’s boring, but it helps pay the bills”

“Now, what are you doing in Melbourne I didn't think you’d be coming back after that last stunt you pulled”

@Continuum@Pineappletumble

Ayeka puts a glass of bourbon in front of the cowboy, she place another glass in front of the pixie. She just gave him a free drink out of good will and how bad the pixie look at the moment. She guess the two know each other as they were getting along as friends. She had no clue what they were talking about but the information can come in handy at some point in time.

@Pineappletumble@Alisdragon911
A puzzled look came across Doorman's face. There wasn’t a hint of mockery in Tic’s voice, if he didn’t know better he’d assume the young pixie was honestly believed they were in Melbourne.

A glass appears next to Doorman, he picks it up and gives a thanking nod towards the Elf who served him. Pulling out his commlink Doorman checked his location, just a precaution.
“No Signal Found” Read the phone. This was odd. Unless this place was a giant faraday cage he should be getting at least some signal, he was in the heart of Seattle after all. But why was Tic here then? He had shown no interest in moving, and he seems to damn sure of himself. Thoughts begun shooting through Doorman's mind, chief among them being. Magic.

He turned to the girl tending the bar.
“Hey, this may seem stupid but, where are we?”

@Mimic@Dark Light

[Upstairs]

Alex was just thinking about the changing scenery outside. It seemed like they were in Seattle about an hour ago, and Alex was sure that they might now be somewhere far from Earth. Then again, the Tavern wasn't really anywhere. In the midst of her thoughts, a voice cut in. "Z-ry-d. My name is Zyrid, and your name?" She turned to find this man, Zyrid, looking at her. "My name is Alex." She turned her body to face him and pulled her eyes to the floor. She shuffled her feet nervously as the tension in the room was so think you could cut it with a butter knife. She looked up at Clay who still seemed to have the countenance of someone who really needed a punching bag. She turned back to her original place back at the window and considered going downstairs for a smoke.

@Continuum

"The answer may come from looking out the window or my own idea about the tavern." Ayeka says as she looks out the window as the scenery is already changing to another scenery. "I am guessing that was your home village that just change to another place in any time, to any dimension that the Tavern chooses." She says as she looks back at the cowboy and the pixie.

@Pineappletumble@Alisdragon911
Since Doorman had found Tic, there had been an uncharacteristically big grin plastered on his face. Upon hearing the words “-any time… any dimension that the Tavern chooses.” the happy expression he spouted begun to fade. Doorman wasn’t the best at reading people but he had a knack for liars, and the Bartender's face was sincere. Looking around again, Doorman took in the scenery, properly this time, patrons clothing ranged from medieval outfits, clothing that was at least 60 years out of date, and fabric that he had never seen before. The wood furnishings looked hand carved, immaculately so, but still clearly not printed. Taking one last look at his phone and it’s lack of connection, he stood up, turned, and quickly walked towards the door. He’d sort this out, one way or another. Swinging the door open with unnecessary force he was met by a chilling sight.

Doorman stared at a coastline of mingled mud and ooze, and weedy Cyclopean masonry. Vast loathsome shapes seeped down from the dark stars, congealing into slimy green vaults below the water's surface. From the waters emerged a single mountain-top, the hideous monolith-crowned citadel whereon only the most abominable must sit. The cosmic majesty of this dripping babylon of elder daemons must have been without guidance of any sane being. He was in awe at the unbelievable size of the greenish stone blocks, at the dizzying height of the great carven monolith, and at the stupefying identity of the colossal statues of some eldritch being. The geometry of the dream-like place he saw was abnormal, non-Euclidean, and loathsomely redolent of spheres and dimensions apart from our own.

Quickly closing the door Doorman pushes his weight against it and turns to the room, eyes wide and panting slightly.He took a few moments to collect his thoughts before asking the most prevalent question in his mind.

“What is this place!?”

@timelord1101@Mimic

Clay didn't like this, the way this man stared at him, the way he spoke, the way he moved, and it wasn't just his slight jealousy that had him on edge. It unnerved something instinctual in him.
Clay lived in a life where every interaction was a struggle for power, one way or another. Be it intimidation, leverage, hidden cards or whatever, everyone was part of the pecking order and had their place in the food chain wether they liked it or not.
The art was knowing where.
Clay was an intimidating rough man, but this Zyrid man, this man stood neutral, unfazed, not intimidated by Clay at all. Nor did he try to exert his position.

Clay stood up tall, puffing out his chest letting his casual visage fall away behind Alex's back. His eyes briefly caught on her form before focusing back on Zyrid and narrowing to match the serious intent and tone of his following words.
"Zyrid hey, so let me ask you straight and get this out the way before we play introductions.
You come here to cause trouble?"

@Dark Light@timelord1101

Zyrid smiled an understanding smile. It wasn't all together friendly, nor was it the least bit threatening. You see, he simply understood completely now. He had met many men like this one, minus of course the moon curse, on previous incursions into the material plane. It wasn't often that they instigated violence, despite their violent nature, as Zyrid always found himself to be a good mediator between aggression and survival. This one had not yet learned that Zyrid was not someone he could drag down or pipe up, neither was Zyrid a floor for him to stamp his heavy boots upon.

No, Zyrid was a great wall, endless in every directional sense. Many forces, both meager and mighty, had attempted to sway him before now, it was exceedingly rare that they accomplished this idiotic goal. A handful of such powers have found their way past his intricate stonework, but only those he found worthy. Others have battered at his side for so long and with such merciless vigor that he has had no choice but to crush them, but it seemed that this one before him would be none of those.

Status - a strange thing that these mortal societies craved. A hunger so drawn out and insubstantial that even those who see through it can stumble blindly into its adhesive hold. This Lycan sought only to stand above, to look down from a higher pedestal. There was something else though, a fondness perhaps, or at least a hint of one, twisted into an anger that few can resist - jealousy had infected this mans mind. It was small now, but infections can grow.

The man had asked Zyrid a question and so he answered, as plainly as he had asked before.

"I did not force myself through the eternal black, enduring a worlds worth of pain, to cause trouble here, no." Zyrid had a hint of confusion on his face as he responded, coupled with an eager smile, one that invited speculation of sarcasm or perhaps mockery. However, Zyrid meant nothing of the sort, he simply found the mortal mind a complex but amusing thing at times.

After a brief pause, long enough for the Lycan to compute his words but not so long that he had time to conceive an appropriate response, Zyrid took a short step forward with his right foot, following with his left, both planted beneath his shoulders. He reached into the air suddenly, a spectral aura of purple and orange flames writhing across his right hand, smoke trails falling from his fingers into the air. Zyrid brought his thumb and index finger together to pinch the breeze, an extreme tension vibrating through his muscles and tendons.

In that moment a Crystal ring, decorated with a bright golden gem at its tip, disappeared from the mantel downstairs in a small puff of smoke, and reanimated in Zyrid's grip. Still looking at the Lycan, Zyrid placed the ring upon his splayed left hand delicately, his middle finger to be specific, then gave the arm a hefty shake. Screwing his shoulders back and stretching slightly, Zyrid felt the boost in power as the ring flushed its energy upon him. Giving a small glance back to the woman, Zyrid smiled like a boy does when he thinks himself impressive, his eyes flashing blue for a moment as the ring finished its transaction, then returned his gaze to the Lycan.

"Now," He said, rolling his right fingers between his left, cupping them behind his muscular back. Zyrid looked intensely into the Lycan's eyes, piercing their facade until he was staring into the exceptional eyes of the wolf "Shall we play introductions?".

@Continuum@Pineappletumble

"Sir, how do I calm your cowboy friend down?" Ayeka as the cowboy is having a melt down at the moment. She walks over to the cowboy handed him his glass of bourbon. "Calm down, take a sip or two from your glass. I can find out which dimension we are in now but just enjoy your drink for now." Ayeka walks away to study the book case as she finds a book on dimensions. She walks over to Dorian to see if he needs another drink or another bottle of wine.@Dark Light

@Alisdragon911@Continuum
Tic had been watching Doorman's little episode with interest and amusement, he hadn't seen him look like that since he'd been told he was getting cut off from the bar before last call all those years ago.

"Sir, how do I calm your cowboy friend down?" the worried voice of the bar tender pulled Tic's attention away from the rattled runner, Tic shifted uncomfortably in his chair; he actually never had to calm Doorman down before.

"Ummm not quite sure, but you didn't look too far off the mark with the drink" Tic lightly took off from his chair and placed it in the other hand of the panicked dead-eye.

"Calm down, take a sip or two from your glass. I can find out which dimension we are in now but just enjoy your drink for now." the way she said dimension that time gave Tic the impression that she seriously believed they were hurling through dimensions. Tic slowly descended towards the floor as he processed what he had just been told, by the look of door man she must have mentioned it earlier. Now shaking a little himself he looked longingly back up to the drink he had relinquished to Doorman and now wished he hadn't.

Taking a deep breath Tic tried to make it back over to the bar to order another drink fast, however he only made it halfway when it all hit him. The excess of powerful mages, the pig man, the chest, and the door that seeming repaired itself when he wasn't looking. Unlike Doorman he didn't fall into a fit of panic he just stood there dumbfounded.

@Pineappletumble
Thoughts blurred through Doorman's head, where am I, can I get back, does it always look that bad, god I hate magic. All of this was thoroughly out of his comfort zone. He needed a drink, bad, and suddenly found himself with two. Knocking back both drinks, he starts slowing walking. Nowhere in particular, just walking. Passing his blue friend, who seemed intent on standing in the middle of the room, he picked him up by the scruff of his jacket, and placed him on a bar stool. Then he turned towards the hallways, and continued his walk. He’d figure out what he was looking for later. Right now, it just seemed like the right thing to do.

@Mimic@timelord1101

Clay grumbles to himself as he turns his back to the room and leaves without a word.