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Texan Janus here

WELCOME TO THE WEIRDNESS

Request for my existence to be acknowledged.

Gives acknowledgment

TNT - The Nameless Tavern. (Always Open)

Ophelia Cayde

@Lithfangel and @Dark Cloud

The tension fled from the strangers body, the weird wild energy suddenly slack and sullen. With only the erratic movements of his dancing eyes to reveal any sign of life. Uhhh, Ophelia could feel her mind desperately grasping at straws with adrenaline laden fingers. This definitely wasn’t the reaction she was prepared for. The swelling silence grating her nervous system and leaving them raw.

With an almost disjointed fervor the stranger snapped back. His body looming, demanding, and thick with arrogance while leaning towards her new acquaintance. At least that’s how she read it. ” Why my apologies fine sir, I must have mistaken this for a different sort of establishment. Free of charge simply won't do, I will make sure when I'm done imbibing to tip you most handsomely. Thank you very much~" He had turned completely from her, focused on the barkeep before her.

Why you— Her thoughts were snapped into sudden silence as the hulking man lurched in her direction. Those dark eyes boring into her with a steady confidence. Ophelia quietly squashed the pooling anxiety that was beading in the pit of her stomach. Her body wanted desperately to lower her gaze and break away from the stranger’s intruding energy. But past experiences held her together like sutures. To look away would be to admit weakness. Something that could be proved fatal if showed unwisely. Instead she drew in a slow, deep breath through her nostrils and lifted her chin a touch while keeping her gaze steady with his own.

”Likewise you’ve my apologies, I only assumed a smith at their station creates swords and a bartender at his bar serves drink. It was not my intention to slight you nor your business.” His eyes never wavered with each syllable spoke. Not a twitch, blink, or falter. Ophelia could feel the fine hairs on the nape of her neck rise with a chill. Everything about the stranger read as off. “I can fetch you a coin for your inconvenience once I have my bearings about me. What say you, fine lady? Would you forgive my rudeness?”

There would be no hiding her emotions, not from that unyielding gaze at least. She felt as if he was stripping the skin from the muscle beneath and the idea prickled at the forefront of her consciousness. Her shoulders drooped dramatically, letting out a sound like could be taken as a sigh of disappointment. Just another entitled spoiled brat, her thoughts wrote him off while the adrenaline began to wane. He was still dangerous as much as any other stranger in a dark tavern. Impatient. Crass. Arrogant. And all the other words that scrambled through her brain that colored him the same as the others. Though the thought of coin for free was tempting it was equally dangerous.

Without realizing it she had closed her eyes, breaking free from his maddening stare down. Before she reopened them Opehlia let her body go lax, turning back to the old man. ”Keep your coin. Instead, I’ll take a favor should I ever need it in the future.” Debts. She doubted they would cross paths again. But a debt was a debt, and that sometimes was more priceless than gold. ”As for a sword for sword and barkeep for drinks. Have you never been in a tavern before,” she asked while her left hand deftly plucked the strings from her bag. ”Things are never quite what they seem.” She could feel her tone shift while she spoke. Her words smoother, softer while her hand pulled something out.

In her hands was a rectangular box, covered in a mossy green fabric. Her face reflected the swirling warmth that she felt in her core. Ophelia’s eyes now encompassed by the object in her hand. She softly set the box on the bar; folding back the fabric to reveal the tarnished box within. It was dull and worn in places. With hinges that showed signs of rust. An impish grip broke out as she flipped open the lid, looking up briefly at the old man. ”Now, back to business.” Of course there was no business discussion prior to the stranger’s meddling. But she wanted something to do with her hands. Plus, having her cards in hand brought on a certain sense of calm that very little else offered.

Ophelia pulled out equally worn looking cards. The once golden edges now darkened by time and oily fingers. It’s rich purple back swirled with dark designs that was worn in several places. She knew each card by heart. Every line, color, and word printed on them. Reading fortunes was often a parlor trick but it was something she was aptly attuned too. Though she would often fluff the readings to her clients. After all, no one wanted to pay to hear bad news. Her hands shuffled the cards with pure ease before dropping the stack in front of the old man. ”Tell me what you want to know, old man.” Her smile had widened, a toothy grin that in her head rivaled the arrogant man beside her.

Attack on Titan: Somnium

Tosses Kuro into the void

Anyone want to run and/or play Pathfinder 1e?

squints

TNT - The Nameless Tavern. (Always Open)

Ophelia Cayde

@Lithfangel@Dark Cloud

”Shit, is an acquired taste kid,” The old man wheezed after miraculously downing the putrid excuse of a drink.

Ophelia scrunched her nose in response, trying to brush off the flare of indignation that flushed through her veins. The cautious mix of the strong booze and the soft wine was beginning to sink in. Her body felt flushed with a comfortable heat and chased away any memories of the cool night air she had escaped minutes prior. She braced herself against the bar, hooking one foot around the other ankle while nursing the bottle between her palms.

”Anyone ever told ya that your nose twitches when ya lie kid? Real cute, but you definitely would be fucked if I was a law abidin’ schmuck.”

”What, are you telling me that you’re not a law abiding citizen now,” she gasped, one hand abandoning her bottle to press against her chest in faux shock. ”And here I was hoping that I was going to be set right by a rusty ol’ tavern drunkard.” Ophelia’s eyes narrowed into little slits of pure amusement. Should she be so openly bantering with someone who had spotted her so easily? Probably not. But when in Rome, or however the saying went. She’d never say it out loud but it felt nice to have a quick little banter with a stranger. No con. No game. Just some okay booze and good humor.

”Ya got a name kid?”

Ophelia had opened her mouth to respond but the first syllable died quickly and was buried under the loud crashing had collided into the space beside her ]What the fu- Her body had shifted instinctively, tense while fingers twitched towards the closest dagger snuggled into the band at her waist. Beside her loomed a man, if you could call him that. The way he held himself was almost comical. He seemed to buzz with energy much grander than his already large frame. Ophelia’s brows stayed arched as she tried to piece together the character that had so boldly interrupted them.

”WELL if it isn't the lord himself. Strong stuff 'en! A bottle of good whisky. A tasty brandy. Something to get me started. Top shelf. And a dessert, I'm thinking truffle cake with fresh raspberries in a diamond formation. And, and! You needn't worry about your little "break." Your secret's safe with me and you'll be tipped damned well”

Is this man for real? Ophelia had lost all control of her facial expression, feeling her head wobble in slight disbelief before casting a confused look back at the ‘bar’ man. ”Excuse me, sir,” she reached over to lightly tap the man. There was a moment of hesitation as his weapons came into glinting view. A soured feeling filled her limbs with lead. He was much too large for her to offend easily. But she followed through with her choice anyway and pressed her index finger into the side of his arm. ”A bit rude, don’t ya think? Coming in and intruding upon a business proposition like ya did.”

Ophelia had forgone her bottle of wine. And folded her arms across her chest, hands tucked into the sides where two more daggers laid in their sheaths. Her face had smoothened back from its shock and settled into a neutral albeit sharp appearance of subtle annoyance. Was she actually annoyed with him? No. But this felt like a good opportunity to show off her acting skills after having them slighted. ”I dare say I think you owe our dearest barkeep more than just a decent tip, sir. As for me, I think I can let you off with an apology.” she could feel the corner of her mouth pull up and curl into a soft smirk. Her body felt like electricity was dancing beneath her skin. The rush of adrenaline lapping intoxicatingly at her consciousness.

TNT - The Nameless Tavern. (Always Open)

Ophelia Cayde

@Dark Cloud

”Bourbon and whisky too much for you lady,” he had questioned her, leaving Ophelia no time to retort before scrambling across the bar. For an old man he was surprisingly nimble, a just a few hairs short of being graceful she would wager. Ophelia’s brows had shot up in surprise and felt the whisper of amusement thread through her while the man's sword clanged loudly against the grain. This was already a welcome change from her previous set of disappointments. She waited politely while he rummaged briefly beneath the bar before emerging with a cloth apron and a bottle of something. She squinted at the faded design but ultimately couldn’t recognize the label that was peeling around the dark green glass.

Still has to be a step up from whatever, this, is. She set the mug down on the counter, tapping it’s cold base with an idle finger.

“You know kid, in my time wandering the world I’ve gotten pretty good at spotting a shifty character. Not that I care where your gold is from, I’ve done my fair share of heists back in my day.” His voice was level, tinged with what Ophelia had hoped was amusement. Still, the alarm bells were ringing in the back of her skull; skin flush with adrenaline and liquor. Was she that obvious? She didn’t feel like she was being careless, after all she had only just gotten here. Was her string of bad luck already deepening?

She sucked in a calming breath, keeping her features neutral and composed. Whomever this man was he didn’t seem threatening. Ophelia let her light eyes roam freely over his weathered face. Her shoulders drooped once her nervous system decided it was placed enough. If he was going to turn her in he would have signaled a guard by now. With a draw of her brows she let her eyes widen, doe-like and pulled her arms into her lap—giving the illusion of being smaller than she already was. ”Sir, I surely don’t know what you mean? She rose her voice an octave. ”Do I look like someone capable of such things?” She fluttered her eyes at him for good measure. But try as she might, Ophelia could feel her face twinge, her nose itching as she attempted to hold the façade. But try as she might her lips twitched into a toothy smile before long.

A burst of laughter tore from her, a bright sound that shook her entire frame. ”I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Ophelia waved her hands in the air between them while she gulped down fresh air. ”I don’t know how some people pull off the pout. I’m just—” she paused to let out a lingering giggle, ”It’s just not me. But let me level with ya, old man. Coin has no mortality. No owner. Just an item used in terms of trade and often misplaced. Wouldn’t you agree?” she prompted while he leaned his sword against the wood.

“I don’t even work here kid, seems though that maybe this old warrior is destined to be a barkeep though. And whose to fight destiny eh?” he continued. She should have known. The more closer she looked the more and more obvious it was. With a steady hand she glided the mug of foul liquid towards him before moving to open the wine bottle.

”That became evident enough after you hopped over, old man. Though I wager you should try that swill before assessing my tastes.” She paused to scrunch her nose in distaste. The cheap ale still lingering on the back of her tongue. ”Cheers, though, to a drink shared betwixt the moral planes of society.” Ophelia popped the cork before taking a swing straight from the bottle. It was smoother that was for sure but also weaker. She had given up potency for taste. A damn shame. She sighed into the rim.

TNT - The Nameless Tavern. (Always Open)

Ophelia Cayde

Fingers grasped up and into the night air above her while she let an exasperated sigh. The heat from her lips billowing and battering the chill that hung heavy and damp. Just above the stars swirled, bright and cold, and her fingertips seemed to just barely miss them. A wistful thought that dragged a shutter from her core while she toed along the well-beaten road. Finally, her mind mused as a warm glow pierced through the starry sky in an inviting halo. It had been a long trek but finally, there was a sign of civilization and warmth. As she drew nearer the muted songs of drunken cheer seeped out and filled her drowsy body with renewed vigor. Ophelia dropped her hand and touched it against the worn satchel that bopped against her hip. She was lower in coin than she liked, but she still had more than enough to enable a few bad habits for the night. And maybe liberate some from a couple of fools. Her lips pulled in a devilish grin.

Ophelia skirted past a few bodies hanging alongside of the tavern, flashing her bright eyes at them in pure excitement. Long gone was the feeling of lead that had poured through her limbs. Now she was ablaze, renewed, and eager as she pried open the tavern’s lavish doors just enough for her to squeeze her body through. The less attention she drew the better, at least for now. She was greeted with a revelry of mirth and delectable smells. Her stomach twisted and groaned in protest while her throat shrank and burned in thirst. ”Hmm,” she wet her lips, letting the heat soak deep into her cold bones. ”Drinks first then. She spun on her heel and edged past a drunken duo squabbling in a shadowed corner. It was definitely busy. Music and conversations all swirled around her in a new array of life.

Everywhere she looked, there was someone and something to do. Her heart fluttered beneath her ribs already feeling the intoxication of the rich décor and atmosphere. The air in here felt timeless. It was like the outside world all together had begun to bleed away from thought and memory. And all the better for it if you asked her. Ophelia finally bumped into what she assumed to be a waiter, shuffling around with several drinks perched upon a dark platter. ”Excuse me.” she tapped lightly upon their shoulde4, nearly startling the youth. ”The bar,” she asked with an arch of her brows. After settling the quivering drinks the man shot her a heavy-handed look of disgruntlement and defeat before pointing his chin off to the side.

”Back o’va there,” He said before turning to drop off drinks at a nearby table.

Ophelia laid her palm gently on his shoulder, leaning slightly in with a warm smile plastered across her face. ”Thank you so much,” her words oozed with a faux warmth while her free hand dipped into the soft opening of the waiters apron pockets. Nothing? Seriously? Her fingertips were met with nothing but the fabrics scratchy material and left her feeling a little less buzzed with excitement. She pulled away and marched over toward the bar, a little more than ready to drown out the first failure of the night. The bar was as cozy as the rest of the place, rich woods and polished brass. With a tilt of her hand Ophelia summoned a nearby bar tender. ”Whatever you got that’s cheap and strong, please.” The bar tender nodded and dashed off before returning shortly with a rounded mug of some sort of amber colored ale.

She dipped her head in thanks, pulling the mug up to her lips and drank it greedily. A mistake. Ophelia sputtered back into her drink, wincing as the liquor burned down her throat and lungs. Fuck. She was battling to keep her composure, shoulders twitching while holding back a series of coughs from her aching lungs. That’s what she gets for getting the cheap stuff. She sucked down some calming breathes before looking around misty eyed. Had anyone noticed? She prayed not. What an embarrassing way to introduce herself.

She smoothed down some wrinkles in her dark brown pants, taking another sip from her mug. It still grated as it went down but at least it went down correctly this time. Ophelia’s eyes danced over the patrons, making note of both the guards and any particular nasty looking guests. She could hold her own in a few different ways. But it was much easier and less effort to just avoid the drama in the first place. She went in for another drink. Maybe it would get better over time. An acquired taste. Her brows furrowed in disgust after sucking down another mouthful. Nope, still ass. She didn’t think she could take much more of it and turned to find the bar keep again.

”You, you, sir.” she waved at what she assumed to be another tender, a bottle of rum in his hand. ”Do you have something, I don’t know, less offensive in store?”

@Dark Cloud

TNT - The Nameless Tavern. (Always Open)

Blep. I'll work on a post later~

TNT - The Nameless Tavern. (Always Open)

Ophelia Cayde

"You let your inside thoughts out, again."

A brush just above five foot five if you ignore the subtle thick heels at the bottom of her boots. Long, thick, auburn locks are usually thrown back in a half-up pony tail, with a soft fridge falling to frame her sharp face. While her skin is fair, it carries a tinge of sunburn dusted across her cheeks and nose; leaving little splotches of freckles along the way. Despite carrying a small vile of cream in the tawny bag thrown across her shoulder, her lips seem to be permanently wind burned and chapped. She can often be seen chewing and peeling the skin off when focused. Her eyes are the same color of ash; a pale gray with plumes of rich brown that spread from her iris. She tends to stick to earthy, neutral tones no matter what she wears. And is never seen without a black corded necklace with a silver locket at its base.

Age:
Thirty

Gender:
Female

Occupation:
Fortune teller/Con artist

Skills:
Slight of hand: Ophelia is a ‘master’ of deception, leading the eyes elsewhere while those hand pilfer places they shouldn’t.
Body language: Reading people’s faces and posture is an art, one that leads to people handing over their cash.
Stealth: Gotta be able to slip away from those pesky guards.

Personality:

A mini burnt out the day Ophelia was born. With more energy and pluck than a penny on a sunny day; she is always somewhere, doing something. With a cheerful disposition and a scathing wit the crowd is either annoyed or enthralled by her.

Biography:

Ophelia's family name and home is a mystery she likes to keep to herself. No one has heard of the surname Cayde and often suspect that she picked it up herself along her travels. Rumors have spread throughout some outlying towns that her true identity lies within the silver locket kept tucked beneath her blouse. But rumors are as fickle as the stories she likes to spin.
Ever on the move she’s not one to stick around for long.

Likes:
A strong drink
Easy marks
Dancing and music
Moonlight
Warmth

Dislikes:

Guards
Busy-bodies
Serious people

Theme Song:
"Borderline" by Nico Collins