Forums » General Roleplay » The IC Chat. Come One, Come All!

Baby Doll entered not long after TMIN

*Baby Doll entered not long after TMIG, settling into a new spot, different from the one she had before. She tossed her hair back and forth, rainwater scattering as she did so. She yawned quietly, stretching. She looked like she may have just gotten up.

Elder still snored, starting to drool.

He took in his surroundings with a dismissive grunt and stood up slowly, his arthritis and his armor prevented him from straightening his knees with ease and he had to use the table as support. After a bit, he was standing again and he proceeded to walk over to the bar. He stared at the bartender until he was approached.

"You know what to get me," he growled in a low, gravelly voice.

A single drink was placed on the counter a moment later, and he carried it back to his table. Again, there was a struggle to sit down, but eventually he had his drink in front of him and stared into it.

While Elder slept, a toy car rolled onto the counter. It seemed burned a bit, but otherwise it was a casual toy car that babies would often play with. Though it had no means of being able to move on it's own, being the car that required the little ones to push it.

The hour was dawning upon six in the evening, and the weather a starting to change from hot and humid to crisp and cool. The sun started to sink behind the tree line as the moon and stars started to poke through the color changing sky. Glarise, the snow goddess, hated this time of year; it was so hot out. She herself was always cool to the touch, her natural body temperature almost stone cold. The only warmth of her body appeared to be her eyes, which were of a golden color; only the left one has no pupil. The Tavern lay only a few yards in front of her, as she walked toward it, her icy blue hair blew a bit in the breeze as her sweet lavender lips curled into a soft grin. Taking her final steps toward the establishment’s entry, she raised her hand and placed it upon the knob, turning her and stepping inside. The warmth of the tavern greeted her and she smiled at how popular it seemed to be.


Her blue nails scraped softly and silently off the door as she stepped in completely and the door came to shut. Exhaling contently, she walked toward the bar of the establishment, ready for a nice drink to cool her off. Her apparel was simple, a silky white ice colored robe that was wrapped tightly around her body and held against her waist due to the sash that pulled it all together. The robe dragged a bit on the ground as she stepped up to a bar stool and sat down, smiling at her surroundings.


Currently, even though she is a fallen angel, her wings reside within’ her skin upon her back; the reason this was, is because she wished not to gather too much attention from an area she was a stranger to. As the bartender came up to her she smiled and brushed her hand over her face, moving her bangs out of views way, then spoke her order in a soft cooling voice that was almost angelic. “I would like to order a tall cold glass of chocolate milk please, and then one large strawberry sundae.” Smiling, knowing her order was a tad weird for someone of her looks, and age for that matter, but the look on the bartender’s face was priceless, as always.


As Glarise waited for her order, she looked around at the others accompanying the space of the Tavern. There were many unique people in here; she could tell that she might be among friends. She knew better then to be too social with people, after all, she was a goddess, a fallen angel, and one of true vanity; she already brought a lot of attention to herself due to her appearance. “Hmmm…” Turning back to face the bartender as her chocolate milk arrived she smiled and thanked the bartender and began the drink the delicious sweet silky nectar that was called chocolate milk. The look on her face was pure enjoyment. Once she had her fill, leaving the glass almost empty, she sat and waited for her sundae, keeping to herself for the time being.

The Man in Gold took his eyes off of the drink and watched the woman enter the bar and place her order. The bartender's look caused him to wonder what the woman had ordered, although his interest was stifled by his desire to have his drink. He placed a hand to his helmet and toyed with the locking clamp around it, while his mind mulled over the possibility of taking a moment to enjoy the drink. As he did this, the woman drank her beverage and sat down at the table. He stared at her for a moment and moved his drink around on the table slowly; he was intrigued by this new arrival, but he didn't particularly want to have to go through the pain of rising from the chair and the effort to speak with her.

Glarise relaxed in the so far peaceful setting she was in. Her nails tapped on the bar counter softly as she waited for her sundae still. Looking around something had caught her eye, a jukebox! A smile spread softly on her lips as she wanted to get up and find a decent song, one she could ‘shake it’ to. She was about to get up when the bartender came back and set down her tall glass that was packed with vanilla ice-cream, strawberry syrup, and topped with cool whip and fresh cut strawberries. “Excellent!” She said happily as she picked up the long spoon that came with it and dipped the spoon into the glass, scooping the ice-cream and one strawberry onto its surface and then placing the sweet desert into her mouth. Closing her eyes she slowly pulled the spoon out, the utensil now clean. Her shoulders dropped to a relaxed start as she couldn’t help but let out an “Mmmnn…” with how delicious the sundae was. After enjoying and savoring the flavor of the first bite, Glarise opened her eyes again and continued to eat the sundae – not too quickly though, she wanted to enjoy it as long as she could. After all, when time came to pay, she had to figure something out…

The Man in Gold had been alive for over 13,000 years, and never had he seen someone enjoy ice cream so much as the woman near him. He'd never seen the appeal in the confection, himself, but from the way the woman was savoring the treat, he was beginning to wonder if there was something to ice cream after all. He continued to nurse his untouched drink and then decided that perhaps he would take a chance and speak with the woman. He rose slowly and painfully and then took his drink over to the woman's table. He gingerly set the drink down at the chair opposite her, not out of respect or politeness but because his arthritis made it impossible to grip things for a long time, and he sat down in the chair.

"What about that ice cream is so enjoyable?"

Looking up from her desert she smiled at the old man. “What wouldn’t make it enjoyable? It’s a nice night out, something as sweet as strawberries and ice-cream would make any night, let alone day a treat to behold.” Taking another bite she smiled before pulling the spoon out of her mouth. “That and it is one of my most favorite dishes, been enjoying it for many years now.” Placing the spoon in the half empty desert cup, she looked across the old man, who seemed to be ancient. “Have you ever had?” She asked, flipping her hair a bit with her hand as she smiled softly at the fellow.

She wondered how old the man really was, how many scars he might possibly have, and the stories they could tell, let alone him! Her eyes glanced to his drink, which seemed to be untouched, she wondered why we wouldn’t drink, why purchase a drink if he was not going to enjoy it? Her attention was pulled away as the bartender came back and placed the receipt next to her and then left again. She looked at the paper, knowing the price was face down against the table top. She didn’t really care for it at this moment in time, taking more heed toward the old man who had sat at her table.

Without so much as a turn of his head, the Man in Gold took his coinpurse from his belt and dropped it on the table, where it made a heavy thud; he pulled out a few gold coins and dropped them on the table before replacing the coinpurse on his belt. He then pushed his drink to the side and dipped his little finger in the ice cream. His other hand began to work on the clamps for his helmet, and soon the metallic facade had come off. In its place, there was his wrinkled, war-torn visage; his featureless red eyes were pointed at the woman, but without irises or pupils, none could really say as to where the eyes were looking. A large, disfiguring scar snaked its way through his left eye and the left side of his mouth, leaving the eye dull and lifeless and his mouth on that side in a permanent sneer. He brought the ice cream up to his mouth and gingerly tasted it with his tongue. He grimaced.

"Not my cup of tea."

He then grabbed his drink and drained it in a single swig, using his armor-encased hand to dry his withered lips.

Glarise watched him, intrigued… “Well I’m sorry to hear that. Might I ask who you are?” she pulled the spoon back out and began to eat some of the sundae again. She looked over the man, finding his features to match what his age could possibly be, what could it possibly be?! Who was this man, where was he from, what wars was he in, and above all – the stories he could tell..

Glarise loved to know what was going on, so loved stories and tall tales, unraveling things and taking things apart, putting them back together. She looked down at the coins and wondered..

“You do not have to pay for this, I can handle it myself.”

Of course she was lying, she had absolutely no cash on her what so ever, she just planned on dining an dashing, not the wisest of things, but she had never been caught for doing it.

He didn't move his head in the direction of the coin, so it was safe to assume that he took no notice of their presence on the table. Instead, he continued to face her.

"It's not just for you. I've a tab here that I have to pay off anyway, but I don't carry anything other than gold on my person. Consider the bill paid," he grumbled.

He gestured for another drink and then leaned in close, his bad eye catching a ray of light from the outside and almost matching its counterpart across his nose.

"People have asked me that for a long time. I never bother to tell them, it'd take too long."

“I have nothing but time...” She replied, turning her head away from him as she picked up her glass and started to make a lot of noise by clanking the spoon around inside it; she wanted to scrape the entire sweet flavor of the ice-cream and strawberries out and into her mouth. After she had, she set the glass down and licked her lips and then turned to face him again.

“Let me start, my name is Rosiel Merlin, but I prefer Glarise or Rose.” She smiled as she let her arms come to rest on the table in front of her, her eyes meting his as she wondered what glories they have seen.

She then reached over and took hold of her chocolate milk which still had at least half of it content inside of it and took a long swig of it, leaving only a mouth full left in it as she set it down in front of her.

He received his second drink and the server took away the bill and money. The Man in Gold drank this one more slowly and gave a short, satisfied sigh afterwards. He pursed his lips and grunted as he mulled over what the woman had said.

"My name is unimportant; the last time anyone said it was 10,035 years, three months, and twelve days ago, and she was perhaps the last woman I could describe myself as almost loving. Call me whatever you want, I don't care; I'll call you Rose."

The years he had on him showed, and she couldn’t help but wonder how this man was still alive, let alone how he kept count of his age. Glarise had been dead for a many of years, revived, and lived longer than expected. She never ages, but she has never kept count of her age either. She’s watch wars and eras go by, but her age itself… Was a mystery to her. “Hmm... I man like you must have some interesting tales to tell…” She thought out loud as she let her chin come to rest upon her hand as she propped her elbow upon the table.

“What is it that I am to call you than, if you wish not to speak your name? I wouldn’t feel to right calling you ‘old man’ all the time, seems rude to me if I would.” Finishing off the last mouthful of chocolate milk in her glass, she looked around for the time, and then toward the jukebox again, she was in a good mood; a sugar rush coming over her in a way, made her a tad, hyper.

He snorted, which was about as close to expressing humor as he got. His head drifted towards the jukebox, if only because Rose had been looking at it; however, he didn't seem to react to the jukebox's presence.

"Like I said, call me whatever you want. The worst thing you could call me would be my own name; too many memories attached to it, most of them bad. And yes, I have some tales I could tell, but I don't feel nearly drunk enough to go delving into the past like that."

On that note, he finished his second drink and grabbed hold of a passing server; he growled at him for a refill and then let go of the man.

“Hmph… Someone woke up on the wrong side of the century.” She mumbled under her breath as she stood up and stretched a bit, her hair, which was previously covering the large tattoo that covered her right side of her face, was now completely visible under the low lighting of the Tavern. If anyone was a major in rituals or tribal tattoos, they would know exactly where this tattoo’s origin came from, other than that, it just appeared to be like branches of ice cracking.

Smiling she walked past the old man, letting her finger nails run across the top of the table near his arm as she walked over to the jukebox and began to flip through the songs, wondering if they had one she wanted to play and dance to. So far it appeared as if it didn’t. Sighing softly, she kicked it with her bare foot softly before turning around and walking back to the table and slumping down into her chair across from the old man.

The Man in Gold wondered why the woman was tolerating him; normally his rudeness and introverted nature scared off people more than his size and his sword did. But, really, did it matter? He hadn't had a real conversation in centuries, and he was grudgingly thankful for the opportunity to talk to anyone at this point; although he was certainly unhappy about having to converse at all. He extended his giant hand to the woman when she returned.

"I'm told that it's custom for people to shake hands when they first meet each other. Sounds like a waste of time to me, but whatever makes you happy. And, before you ask, I won't break your hand, although I could if I really wanted the mess and the trouble," he grumbled.

The third drink was here, and not a moment too soon. He'd been dry for nearly a decade now, and he was overdue for a good smashing.

Looking at his hand she smiled and laughed softly. “No need to shake hands, I see no point in it either, as for breaking my hand – if you were to break it, it would simply heal within’ an hour or so.” Smiling softly she lifted her hand and shook his anyway. Not keeping hold of it for longer than ten seconds and no less than three. Removing her hand away as the server set the drink down onto the table. Smiling up at the server she asked for another Chocolate Milk.

“I hope you don’t mind.” She spoke out to the old man. Her mind then began to wonder, what would she call him? Old Man was still rude in her eyes. “Hmm…” Closing her eyes she rested her head in her hand as she smiled as she began to think about it.