The Drunk Fey Inn and Pub

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Zelkova

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( https://www.iwakuroleplay.com/threads/the-drunk-fey-pub-and-inn.47594/
Here is the plot/ooc thread.)

In a realm where both robots, dragons elves and tech knights all exist in one world the streets of LA has faced the worst possible outcome. Anything from vampires to new aliens species have made themselves known. LA had faced the apocolypse and most of the streets are cracked, torn asunder and various alien plants and vegatation has grown up out of the ground.

The Drunk Fey-

The drunk fey is a recently built establishment meant for any and all species. Operated by a very....odd robotic owner or at times a Seraphim sergal owner depending which is on duty.

Either way, there is a female on duty to serve any male's or female's needs.

The pub and Inn is reminiscent of that good old irish inn and pub. Serving up various drinks from mead to anything else one may wish to drink as well as food for anyone to eat.


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Zelkova came downstairs and begans cleaning the bar for the day ahead. Here large tv head bobbed back and forth as she contemplated things that would be of necessity for the day. Her tv head turned and looked to the door for a moment, a glimmer or moment of hope in her mind that someone would enter.
 
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Klo walked confidently through the doors of her favorite pub. "Sup, telly head!" The were-cat flashed a toothy grin at the bartender and seated herself at one of the tall bar stools. "How's life for my favorite non-organic life form?"
 
The being sort of ran behind the bar, well as fast as it could balancing it's head. A smile would of been on her face, had she ever had one in the first place. The tv head turned to face the were cat, the obvious feeling of non-organic optics upon her. Neither beady, nor unblinking, but feeling somewhat warm in disposition as the being felt that the creature was familiar. "Guten tag."

It stood for good day, her mind on many many things. "What would your like? This one would surely get it for you." She spoke in third person, in her kind of odd voice. It was that of a mechanical singer's. She also spoke in third person, which to her was a way of making her humble and servant like. However to other's she might seem arrogant and pompous.
 
"Ah," she chuckled, used to the robot's speech patern. "Down to business as always." Flipping her mane of sandy hair behind her, the were-cat stretched and yawned, displaying a maw of sharp teeth. Gold eyes glanced at the shelves of liquor behind the counter before she held up two clawed fingers. "I'll take a double brandy and..hmm what's on the menu today? I feel like a steak."
 
Noticing the creature's fangs she smirked and tilted her head, one would see one upon her monitor. She got out her thing of brandy and counted with mechanical precision. "One-thousand-one, one thousand-two, one thousand-three, one thousand-four." 2 ounces of brandy, supposedly that was a double, least in American standards. The being slides the shot over towards the were creature, the robot wasn't a great conversationalist but she attempted to be. She was much much better at contemplation and thinking to herself. "How bout' that weather?" She asked stereotypical then she added. "Did any plants attempt to ear you on the way here? I need to trim them leviathans, they get pretty nasty in the summer."
 
Lenora walked into the pub and looked around. She pulled the black hood from her head and let her long blonde hair fall around her shoulders. Her bright blue eyes scanned the pub, trying to spot anyone she knew. When no one stood out she walked to the bar and sat down, letting her robe hang around her. Her dark riding pants had spots of horse hair all over them.
She was a human but worked with just about any type of thing there was out there. She didn't invite in her 'horse' because he was much more than a horse. With a few drinks in him he could be... reckless. She looked over at the two talking and tucked some hair behind her ear. She grabbed the small hand written menu and looked it over. Half of the things she didn't even know what they were. She decided on the only thing she could say.
She turned and looked at the barista, wondering why she hadn't been here before. It seemed quite interesting. Her arm began to burn and she grabbed it without noticing. She needed to get back to her house but she was too tired. She would probably have to spend the night, which she dreaded. Too many things were running through her head. Too many questions. Too much information.
 
Devon dove into the bar like his fuzzy dark brown feline tail was on fire, knocking over a glass or two as he tried to find someplace to look inconspicuous. Outside there were voices, angry voices, shouting for him to 'get his cheating arse back here'. Other. more intimidating ones, were more creatively claiming that they were going to do horrible nasty things to his large human sized Siamese cat carcass and use more unmentionable body parts as trophies. There was also a mixture of languages he couldn't quite make out even if he hadn't ben half deaf at the moment with his heart beat pounding in his chocolate colored ears. As his blue eyes caught the first sight of his pursuers coming into view he ducked into a corner, still oblivious to the folks around him but instead focused solely on those that wished him ill. He pulled his tattered and fringed coat tighter and higher around him in an attempt to blend in to the wall or anything else that might conceal him. At this point it really didn't matter if he needed to climb in to some obese lady's cleavage to get away from this murderous lot as he would have done it in a second. Unfortunately there was no such buxom wench to hide in right now so he settled for a far table in a corner, keeping his face and anything else that could be recognized from being seen from the street. A few moments later a gang of obviously perturbed persons rambled passed, looking here and there but thankfully for Devon not in the pub. After a few more breath holding minutes they continued on, still cursing and threatening as they went. Confident that he had escaped the situation for now with his 8 (he had lost one life awhile back, long story that involved pickled herring and a one legged harpist with a bad over bite) lives intact he padded over to the bar.
 
"My, dare I ask what you did to piss so many people off?" Lenora muttered, turning to the cat hybrid. She gave him a look, trying to figure out what he could have mustered in order to create such chaos. She leaned across the bar, snatching two shots and some vodka. She poured herself a glass and poured one for him as well. She pushed it over to him, taking hers in a large swig and slamming the glass back down on the table.
She eyeballed the barista, waiting for them to snap at her for reaching over the counter. She had enough to pay for the two drinks so it did not really matter. What she needed to find out if there were any available rooms in this place. There was no way she would be making it back to her house tonight, especially with Raoul acting up like he did. She ran her hand through her hair and looked at the cat again, admiring his coat. She always wished that Raoul was a cat instead of a loud, stinky, clunky horse. Perhaps if he had been in another life somewhat more graceful, she would like him better.
"So, tough life being a cat I see. At least you don't have to deal with stupid humans on a daily basis..." She trailed off. "Or is that who was bugging you?" She smirked, a wicked glimmer in her eyes.
 
He eyed the lass suspiciously, after all one could never be too sure in his line of 'work'. Well work was a loose term really as he preferred to think of himself as a jack of all trades but a master of none. Then again there was the terms that others used for him too such as con artist, cheat, thief, and well the list could go on. His eyes glanced down the other end of the bar and then around the area just to make sure there was no surprises awaiting him if he let his guard down for even the slightest of moments. Confident that his early warning system such as the hackles on the back of his neck and his keen hearing would alert him to any true danger he allowed himself a moment of relaxation.

"Lass my story is a complicated one to say the least. Humans, vampires, three toed sloths, and even the draconic race of Delta 5 along with countless others all want a piece of this humble and peace loving beast before you." He took a large gulp from the glass the lady offered him and almost fell flat on his fuzzy butt. His eyes seem to cross, almost to the point he thought they might stay that way permanently as his head seemed to spin for a brief time, but he quickly shook his head to clear everything back into focus. His sandpaper like tongue licked at his lips as he seemed to ponder the liquid, even staring into the glass, then he downed the rest in one gulp. His entire body shivered as the vodka made it's way through his system. Devon smacked his lips and then continued his conversation as if nothing happened.

"I guess most folks just don't like being separated from their funds, even if its only a few financial bits that fall into these paws. After all I am simply an enterprising young creature who gets by best as he can." he shrugged his shoulders, not totally giving her his life story but not being shy about who and what he was if one simply read between the lines. "But what about you lass, what brings you here? Are you here to drown your sorrows, celebrate a victory, or just get away from the hum drum of every day life." The feline tilted his head as he spoke, genuinely curious. Then again there was that old saying about curiousity and cats.
 
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Lenora raised her eyebrows at the cat's talking. She wasn't expecting him to give her a speech. Should she tell him about her life? Should she even bother or just get the barista and get a room before she fell asleep on this bar. She needed to stay away, to run away from these expectations. I mean, marriage so soon? Before she even knew the guy? No. No. She ran a hand through her hair, brushing it behind her shoulder.

"I am here for a few reasons." She poured herself another glass of vodka and took it in one swig. "My centaur is being annoying. He gets in these ruts and he just acts like a jerk. He gets all angry and just doesn't listen to me. He doesn't realize that he is my pet. He always wants to be bathed and fed and he wants me to give him water. He can get it his-damn-self." She grumbled and looked down at her outfit, brushing off horse hair. "Beyond that I have way too many family issues. Being an heir brings about quite a bit of stress."

"I need a place to stay and hoped that I could stay here but apparently it is busy. I just need somewhere to stay for the night." She leaned back in the chair. Her coat fell down beside her letting her outfit show. The black tank top was tight against her, showing off the thick, black tattoos that spiraled up her arms and across her chest. "So, sounds like we both have problems." She turned to look at him and smiled, still wondering what type of race he was. She shrugged it off and looked at the alcohol spiraling across the back of the bar.
 
Klo grinned and turned to the two new visitors. "Well, you came to the right place, hun. I'm sure telly-head can find you a place," she said, swinging her glass from her clawed fingers easily. "And may I ask, what are you heir to? Sounds important." The were-cat kept her toothy smile in place as she leaned her head on her fist. "I mean, you have a centaur. You've got to be part of some of the higher standing families. 'Specially since your human." At her last observation, she leaned forward, eyes searching. To be honest, she viewed humans as an interesting, if slightly inferior, race. The fact that some of them could be quite resourceful while others' intelligence could be compared to rocks intrigued her.
 
"I'm not just a human." She smiled at the cat. "I am heir to a factory sort of thing. My father runs mines." She rolled her eyes and looked back down at her empty cup. "A boring job in my respects. I keep telling him to get out of it. The kingdom has enough natural goods to salvage. I don't know why he only wants to mine." She met eyes with Klo. "Mining for love, I s'pose. Since my Ma left he has been crazy." She yawned slightly, covering her mouth as she listened to Klo talk.

"The centaur was a gift. A gift I wish I hadn't received. A gift from an admirer. Can you believe that?" She scoffed and leaned back in her chair, running a hand through her hair once more. "Might I ask why you are here?" She raised an eyebrow and looked at the cat.
 
Brian Stumbles through the door his trench coat drenched from the rain he shuts the door behind him and makes beeline for the bar.
 
"Oh, so your one of them, hm." The were cat knew there were a few prominent human families that ran factories and the like. They usually took advantage of species that were stronger and more durable than humans. No one particularly liked those companies but they were to deeply rooted in society to simply get rid of them now.

She snorted when she heard the centaur was a gift. That has to be a record for 'worst gift ideas ever' The cat thought idly. Most pet centaurs were bad-tempered. They preferred lush woodlands and open plains to the dark concrete alleys of the old cities. "Eh, I'm a regular here. I'm good friends with the barristers and such. Come here after the night shift to relax and unwind." She waved her free hand dismissively.
 
Brian walks up to the bar and says "One Whisky on the rocks please" and pushes on to the bar $20 .
 
Devon watched the ladies for a bit, keeping his thoughts to himself as he listened intently. As the two ladies chatted he thought it best not to interrupt since one can learn a great deal just by keeping one's big fat muzzles shut. So his drinking companion was well off, an heiress to good ol' daddy's money. If he had been an honest sort of bloke he might have tried to worm his way into a job, maybe work his way up the corporate ladder (if such a thing existed in the mining industry - of that he was unsure) and maybe make a real name for himself. He could picture himself in business attire, whatever that might be for such a position, and shaking hands with the social elite. The thought of having to do an honest day work made him almost physically sick to his stomach. Plus he had already done the whole rich and well to do scene when he was younger. His parents had both been social snobs, a lawyer and a politician, and he had seen the way that half lived. It made his fur stand on end and the skin underneath began to crawl. No Devon felt most at home on the streets and had since he dropped out of that prep school full of narcissistic brats. He couldn't help but know where the lass was coming from or at least have somewhat of a kindred feeling towards her. Of course that didnt mean he wouldnt try to life a few bucks from her before they parted ways but he would at least not go so deep into her pockets.

He was mentally chiding himself as he thought of this, feeling he might be going soft, when suddenly his ear twitched alerting him to another creature entering the pub. He warily cast his blue eyes towards the door as he took another sip of the alcohol, choking it down more than drinking it. In the fleeting moment the door was open he could still hear the angered shouting of those he had felt it necessary to lighten financially. Out of reflex he stood up while pulling the collar of his coat up as an, admittedly horrible, attempt at disguising his appearance. He could see a few folks dart past and they never even looked inside the pub. So for now he was still safe so he sat back down to continue listening to the two gals.
 
"Worst gift ever, right?" She laughed and heard her stomach grumble. "God, I could go for some cheesy fries right about now." She stretched, feeling her back muscles pull and snap.

"A regular? I wish to be a regular sometime to a place like this. I wish I could be normal." She took a sip of the drink in front of her and frowned slightly. "Do you suppose I should check on my centaur?" She asked quietly before getting up. "I shall be back." With that she disappeared. She went outside and found her centaur, chatting it up with some people.

"Raoul!" She called and he turned around. He smiled a look to the ladies and walked over to her. "We will be staying here for the night. Do you want me to find you a room or are you set?" She questioned, pointing to the women. Raoul shook his head and took back off to the women. She shook her head and went back inside, her cheeks flushed. She sat back down and kept quiet, a scowl appearing on her face.
 
Figuring the Bartender was busy Brian goes to an empty table and sits down and keeps a watchful eye on the fellow who had made a crude attempt to Disguise him self."Its Probably just some guy acting up to look like a replicant to gain a quick buck from a compensation claim against The LAPD" Brian thinks to him self.
 
A man opened the door to the pub, many just stood there and stared at him, why? he was of a different time. He was in 18th century clothing, to be a bit more specific he was wearing the typical (or what was typical back then) military gear, he was and still is a blue coat, one who was trying to fight for his freedom and now he is stuck in this more advanced time period. How he got to this time was beyond him. He was known as Alfred back in his time, but now he is under the name of Zeke. Zeke saw Devon and Lenora in wonder and yet he didn't say a word to them. The young man was thinking about some other things that was on his mind anyway. He sits at the bar, lifting his tricorne out of his eyes and he notices a few people mumbling, possibly about him but he didn't jump to conclusions, you'd think they would get used to all these... weird things happening here and there. his mind kind a drifts from one subject to another until he finally pushed it all aside. What matters now is the future not the past is what he figured. Zeke couldn't shake the fact that he didn't belong here off his mind though. Every time he does so, it appears a few minutes afterwards. "Oh come on!" he thought to himself, he clutches his teeth but after a few minutes it disappears and he seems relaxed for now anyway.
 
A young looking girl walked in slowly. She had black scene hair, two large daggers that she clutched in her hands, and white pale skin. Her dark blue eyes narrowed as she looked at everyone. All the wanted was a drink or two, maybe a kill or ten. She took a seat alone and watched everyone's move intently.
 
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