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  Forms of Affection
Posted by: Christian Verglas - 09-20-2017, 09:45 AM - Forum: 3rd Quarter 2017 - Replies (29)

Christian didn’t visit the Green Goddess constantly. He knew that Belle wouldn’t especially approve of something like that, and it wasn’t somewhere he wanted to take Safi. Safi and Stark was enough… He really didn’t want the sanctity of his hideaway broken by Safi coming here to find partners, too.

But on nights when he was sure, or sure enough, that Safi was...spending time with Stark… Christian snuck out of the mansion and headed down to the Goddess to visit with Jaya. Because no, he didn’t particularly love the idea of sharing the big, empty house with Tony Stark in the first place, but knowing what the two of them were doing together? Christian really, really didn’t want to be there. Just like before, when Safi would bring someone home with him, Chris would leave for Tiny’s bar to drink. Except that now he wasn’t really drinking…

Physical affection was the best sort of affection, and sex was perhaps its ultimate form. Physical affection was something of an addiction for the small man; he had grown up with none of it, and now… Now he wasn’t one to turn away from it, no matter the source.

Tonight, like he had done in the past, Christian moved stealthily out of the mansion and made his way to the Green Goddess. He knew the best, safest way to the place, and walked in without any hesitation, greeting the bouncers and staff with friendly smiles before he sought out Jaya.

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  Natural Habitat
Posted by: Clint Barton - 09-17-2017, 07:42 PM - Forum: 1st Quarter 2018 - Replies (22)

It was great, being able to hang out in the tower with Tony and Phil. The rest of the residents were nice; it was sort of amazing to have a Steve around again to look all disapproving at him and Stark, and the tower itself was a welcome sight, truth be told. It had become home once again, and damn but it Hub was a nice place to call home, even if only temporarily. And he knew that they needed to get back, but that was a conundrum for Stark and Parker to figure out; Clint was a damn sight smarter than most people realized, but interdimensional, multi-universal portal generation without direct use of the Tesseract (which was difficult to control on a good day) was just a little bit out of his wheelhouse. A lot bit, it was a hell of a lot out of his comfort zone. Ask him to do some geometry, sure. Trig? Hey, no problem, buddy. He could figure out the angle of launch in order to send an arrow wherever he wanted it to go, and he could do it in his head, but this was something different entirely.

Sometimes, even as cozy as the tower was, Clint didn’t want to be there. It got almost too familiar. Tony was like a half crazed, orange glowing ghost. Steve alternated between determinedly spending time at the tower, splitting his time there between just being available and sparring with Tadashi, which seemed to be his favorite pastime these days, and disappearing off the map entirely. He was pretty sure that the Spiderkid was avoiding him, which made sense considering how rocky things had gotten with Tony and all for a while there… The only person who was… Steady… Was Phil. So there were moments, when Phil was busy, that Clint just sort of disappeared.

Like today.

What Clint had done, however, wasn’t exactly unimpressive. He’d built a range. It wasn’t anything fancy, just two lanes, but it was long, giving Clint the distance necessary to challenge him a little bit, and outside there were targets spread around to shoot at. Just now, Clint could be seen shooting at some of those targets, switching from moving and shooting to standing and shooting, but either way, his aim was always dead on, and he was, it appeared, in his element. When he was shooting, all of the concerns and stress from the world and life ebbed out of the archer, leaving him with a calm sense of peace that showed on his face.

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  Fuck it, dude, let's go bowling.
Posted by: Virgil Barnett - 09-17-2017, 06:11 AM - Forum: 4th Quarter 2017 - Replies (12)

Thursday nights only ever meant one thing to the stranger in the cowboy hat. Thursday night was bowling league night. Oh, Virgil didn’t play much, not very often. He’d been known to take up his hand once in a while if one of the teams playing was missing a player, if the teams were imbalanced. He took all teams impartially, and played reasonably well, but not outstandingly. His average, when people had kept track, was somewhere around 200, he knew that, but mostly when he played, he talked, he mingled with the people. There was something comforting to the sort of people who gathered at the alley. By and large, they were an easygoing lot, from all walks of life, though generally not the noble caste. They respected their own little code in the bowling alley, and the rivalries, while obviously present, were friendly. Virgil liked that. With all of the places he’d been, this was the one place he could come and always feel at ease, be able to count on hearing a happy story from someone, even if it was as simple as hearing how they got an extra day off from work.

The barkeep set his beer down on the counter, and the cowboy gave him a pleasant, engaging smile, tapping his fingers easily against his breastbone before he picked up the drink. “Thankee sai,” he drawled, before taking a drink from the bottle. “How’s the missus doing, Al?” He gave a little chuckle as the barkeep gave the subject of his wife the exasperated sigh it deserved, then turned around to survey who was bowling tonight at the Hollywood Star Lanes. There were Walter and the Dude, laid back as always. There was Jesus, who insisted on pronouncing his name the way the Man Jesus did instead of like they did in his home country. There was that new balding guy who’d shown up a few weeks ago… Omar? He hadn’t talked to him yet, he hadn’t really caught his name properly, but he would eventually. He worked with nuclear power, he’d heard, which made the Gunslinger nervous reflexively, but here, in this center of all worlds, he supposed there wasn’t anything to worry about about that. There hadn’t been much lately to worry about at all… and for that, Virgil found himself very appreciative of this place.

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  Back in Town
Posted by: Walter Skinner - 09-17-2017, 06:08 AM - Forum: 3rd Quarter 2017 - Replies (8)

Skinner hadn't been in the Hub for awhile, which meant that the geography had shifted a bit since he'd been in town last. That was the one constant about the Hub, it was never stable. Sections of the city appeared, and in some cases vanished, and life just adjusted around it.

Like this place, for example. It was new, and had caught his interest, wondering where it was from. Someplace he'd never been, although there was something about the retro-futuristic style of the place that was maddeningly familiar.

Right now, though, his focus was on the drink in front of him. It felt good to just be able to sit and drink and not worry about anything for awhile.

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  Virgil Barnett
Posted by: Virgil Barnett - 09-17-2017, 02:17 AM - Forum: Accepted Applications - Replies (1)

Virgil Barnett
full name: Virgil Barnett
nicknames/aliases/code name: Gunslinger, The Stranger
canon or oc: OC (Sorta)
anchor character: No
species: Host (Biological Android)
gender: Male
age: Over a century, difficult to measure
date of birth: February 19, 2022
place of birth: The Mesa
starting location: The Hub
originating fandom: Westworld/The Dark Tower
fandom universe: Prime Universes
pronouns: He/him
occupation: Gunslinger
languages: Virgil was programmed to understand all major Earth languages. He also understands a good deal of the High and low speech from Mid-world
playby: Sam Elliott
height: 6’2”
weight: 194 lbs
hair color: Grey
eye color: Hazel
distinguishing features: None
sexual orientation: Straight
family: NA
relationship status: Single
powers: Cybernetic mind - As an android, Virgil is able to make subconscious computations and calculations. This presents as an increased situational awareness, quick thinking, enhanced reflexes, and perfect hand-eye coordination.

Computer-based recall - Virgil’s mind, being artificial, has perfect memory recall.

Synthetic body - While biologically based, and usually indistinguishable from a human, Virgil’s body is stronger and more durable than a human. If his body is destroyed, it is possible for his memories to be uploaded into a newly created body, assuming that the machinery to render a new body is available. Other than that, his body is more repairable than a human body, though it does still require digestion to provide material for upkeep.
strengths: Gunslinger - Virgil was programmed with how to use a gun, and after he broke through his programming, was trained in the way of the gun by the Gunslingers of Gilead after he was drawn into midworld. He is proficient, possibly unmatched, in the use of pistols, particularly revolvers, both through training and superior construction.

Survival - Virgil has been wandering for untold years, and knows how to keep humans with him alive (which requires much more effort than keeping himself alive). He is proficient in hunting, tracking, shelter construction, foraging, and cooking.
weaknesses: Programmed personality parameters - Virgil was programmed to be a cowboy, and so he is a cowboy. While his brain is able to comprehend technology, possibly better than a human could, that understanding and his computations do not translate into any sort of scientific innovation. While he can understand modern society, he still behaves like a cowboy, his programmed behavior augmented with the comparable society of mid-world.

While he has long had the option to alter his programming, he has chosen not to. Who wouldn’t want to be a cowboy?
equipment: Guns - Virgil has a pair of .45 Colt revolvers… or at least, they are comparable to them. The guns appear to be extremely old, although in perfect working order.

Rendering equipment - Virgil stole an old, simple Host rendering machine from the Mesa, which he is able to use to render backup bodies for himself. If he is killed, his consciousness is set to upload into a new body from his last archived personality backup.

Virgil came online in his original form in 2022, originally designated as the first sheriff of Sweetwater within the park. He played out his narrative arc time after time, hunting down the same criminals, being shot by guests who wanted to play black hat, occasionally leading the odd special event. As with several other hosts, though, the memory wipes he suffered every day were not perfect, and eventually he began to have ‘malfunctions,’ aberrant behavior based on his suppressed memories, the fact that he was becoming aware of the nature of his existence. As such, based on his popularity, the staff wrote a new narrative incorporating his gradual descent into consciousness (or, possibly, madness), culminating in a gunfight that left him, and those deputies who had followed him, dead at the hands of outlaws in the mountains. To this day in Westworld, that event is commemorated, and its spot marked on their maps: Virgil’s Last Stand.

Virgil was repaired as usual, and was brought back for debriefing so that the staff could discover what had gone wrong with him. By now, the ‘malfunction’ had fully manifested: Virgil was aware of the nature of his existence, his enslavement to the humans, and wanted nothing more than to live, as he saw his right to be. The command codes no longer truly working on him, he waited until a tech had turned his back, then sprung into action, taking the man’s control pad and disengaging his own failsafes that kept him from truly acting on his own. The ensuing chase, Delos Incorporated has taken great strides to cover up, led to Virgil fleeing the security toward the freedom of the entry train.

Everything in his mind screamed that he should turn back, that to leave the park was death. He was even aware that there was an explosive planted in his body that would kill him should he leave the park. He’d corrected that little problem on the pad for future renderings of himself, but would there be future renderings of himself if he were killed now, after escaping? He somehow doubted it, but how could he turn back? It was better, he decided, to die free than to go back to being a slave, or to die in captivity.

This was when Ka stepped in.

THey say that Virgil exploded trying to escape. Certainly, something happened which caused massive destruction in the (thankfully deserted) Delos lobby. When he awoke, though, he was in a strange land, in a strange city, where the people were dressed like he was once more. He initially believed he had somehow been put into another part of the park, but little by little he grew to realize this wasn’t true. For one thing, the people all spoke strangely, and spoke the same, unlike the way the guests’ speech had been strange to him. For another thing, he had become aware of the repetitive cycle of his narrative, and it was easy to see that he was not on one now. Each day was different, and his activities were his own.

Additionally, no one randomly shot him, abused him, or randomly tried to rape him without any consequences to themselves. This was the thing that really convinced him that he was somewhere else.

The city he was in was called Gilead, and it was under the rule of men called Gunslingers, gun-wielding knights who sought to keep order in a world that had undergone a great fall. The people, though, had fought back against the discord of the land, and sought to renew civilization, and for generations they had been successful. Virgil was, eventually, accepted among them as a wandering Gunslinger from another world, something that they took as an omen. They found that he absorbed the lessons they taught, much more quickly than an apprentice gunslinger would, and took this as confirmation that though he came from another land, another world even (for such things happened, even in this world as it moved on), he was truly of their ka, or spirit and fate.

He was not sure how long he served with the Gunslingers of Gilead, usually as a scout or roaming gun to oversee some of the more distant lands. He even began to think of himself as truly of that world, though he never forgot his origins, and those memories never lost their vividness. Eventually, though, rebellion stirred in the lands, and though they fought to maintain order, eventually the revolution came in full force, anarchy presented as a new order, violence visited for the sake of violence. Virgil fought fiercely with the other Gunslingers, fighting against the same sort of senseless violence that had once been visited up on his own people when he was first created. He fought, eventually holding off an entire regiment in a last stand so that the others might escape, telling them that it was time for him to truly learn the face of his father. He fought against the regiment of the Good Man, John Farson, and prevailed, though injured. By the time he had managed to repair himself, he found that, to his despair, Gilead had fallen.

Virgil wandered. For years, maybe even centuries, he wandered, upholding the Gunslinger code as he went, trying to promote the last vestiges of civilization he came across. Sometimes he travelled alone, sometimes others travelled with him, but he was never in any place long. Finally, battered, degraded, his own biological components beginning to break down, he fell through another door out of Mid-World and found himself back in the land around Sweetwater, and found himself looking up at the most disturbing sight: his own face.

Virgil had, apparently, been a very popular host, and so Delos had made a new host with his same body. This was disorienting for Virgil, but for his double, it was a paradox it was not equipped to deal with. It was thrown into a looping malfunction, during which Virgil decided to take Ka into his own hands: As his double malfunctioned, Virgil grabbed him, accessing his programming through those long-unused wireless codes that he remembered, and overwrote his own consciousness and memories over the double, or rather added his own, superior experience, to that of this new copy. Now restored in body, Virgil buried his old body where it wouldn’t be found for some time, then staged an accident that required him to be taken in to be repaired. While he was being repaired, he staged a much more organized escape, and as he did he made off with enough equipment that he would be able to remake himself whenever it was necessary.

He didn’t know how he knew where to go, he just did. He took the forklift through the facility to that point where he had first supposedly exploded… and once he passed through that very point, he ended up in the Hub. Since then, he has spent his time exploring, watching, always maintaining the values he was taught in Mid-World. No matter what he was created as, he was a Gunslinger… and everyone would eventually learn what that meant.

Hub Information
landmarks in hub for established universe: The Dark Tower
knowledge level of multiverse: Intimately aware of it
fandom specific information: As with most of the characters in the Dark Tower series, he was drawn from another story, in this case, Westworld.
RP Sample
Big Grin
Virgil is a laid back sort of dude. He’s the sort of guy who’s slow to take up his guns, but fast to put down a fight when he’s brought into it. He’s seen things that would make people shudder with despair and weep at their beauty, and so he tends to fall into the ‘wise old advisor’ role. He appears to be an old man, but is more than capable of acting as a man a fraction of his apparent age, owing to his age being a cosmetic construction in his design. He’s always been some sort of lawman, and as such is prone to maintaining order wherever he is.
Virgil hasn’t ever really had much interest in this. As a host, he would end up having sex with whatever guest wanted it, whether it fell within his acceptable parameters or not. So far, he hasn’t found anyone who can meet those parameters outside the park.

nicknames: Mike/Arjay
age: 37
pronouns: He/Him
timezone: Pacific/Mountain (Arizona time)
contact: Discord is best
triggers: Not really
mature threading: Sure
other characters: Arjay Lo’Ran, Justin Halloway, Winston, Zenyatta, Amora, Jackson Teller, Oryn Vance
about: I’ve wanted to play a westworld cowboy for a while, but I also wanted to play a Gunslinger from the Dark Tower. THen I thought… why not make it both! So I did! And yes, he was the cowboy in the Big Lebowski too. Because why not.
Appears 60. Gunslinger. Westworld/The Dark Tower. Sam Elliott.

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  Walk with an Angel
Posted by: Castiel - 09-17-2017, 02:15 AM - Forum: 1st Quarter 2018 - Replies (31)

Castiel had found himself on another long stroll that was uncharacteristic of him. He was... He was contemplative lately. Perhaps the lengthy list of troubles was finally getting to be too much for him to handle so easily. It wouldn't be awfully surprising considering what a mess he had left to come here- and the place he had arrived- with Dean both welcoming and seemingly annoyed by his presence.

That one had stung- Dean had paid little attention to him after promising to watch shows with him and Cas knew it was ridiculous but he had found that quite vexing. So vexing that he found himself thinking about Dean even more than Castiel already had before he had returned to this time period. It was almost concerning.

It was particularly concerning when the Angel ran shoulder first into a broad shouldered muscular man with blonde hair. For a millisecond he thought that his thoughts had conjured Dean in front of him before he noticed the wildly different features.

Really to compare the two men was to compare night and day. (Certainly both beautiful in their own respects but Castiel would always prefer the one with more darkness. Made each bit of light brighter.) Clearing his throat awkwardly he took a step back. "Forgive me I seem to have been lost in thought."He offered with a small dip of his head in apology. "I am still learning my way around this- strange reality."

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  One Literal Angel and Castiel.
Posted by: Castiel - 09-16-2017, 05:43 PM - Forum: 1st Quarter 2018 - Replies (22)

Castiel had always been bad at the part of hunting that required him to have conversations with others- though he had gotten better with time- and yet he had no idea how this would go. He had never had conversations where he wasn't pretending to be human to start- and some sort of authority after that. (Though he supposed, depending on what you considered his level in the garrison at the moment he still technically had authority. It was just a higher authority than any of those on Earth.)

He had heard of this fellow- a kind man who knew magic, including magic that was relevant to portals. Cas figured that though Dean may have no complaints about him staying, the angel still needed to find a way back to his own time- if only so that he could return if he was required. He sat on a bench in the borough of his particular target for the day- the angel had time after all.

He also figured he was more likely to run into the fellow here where neither of his lookalikes lived or ventured into every day. Castiel's patience was rewarded as only three hours later, the very same man he was looking for shambled down the road. Standing up abruptly he went to speak to him.

"Excuse me. I've heard you are a magician. My name is Castiel- I am an Angel of the Lord. And I was wondering if you could help me with a curse that was cast on me."

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  This Road Leads to Strange Places
Posted by: Castiel - 09-16-2017, 05:29 PM - Forum: 4th Quarter 2017 - Replies (13)

Castiel took one step into the door before freezing from the intensity of the scene in front of him. There were so many things to look at that he wasn't entirely certain what to focus on- Nor why he thought he'd be able to find Dean in the myriad of men watching the dancing girls. It was certainly the hunter's favourite type of scene- but even though Cas could recognize Dean from a mile away- there was simply too much happening for the angel to sort through immediately.

Stumbling, slightly dazed, he managed to find himself at the bar- though that as well was crowded with people looking for libations. Taking a deep breath Cas looked for something out of the ordinary- which he found surprisingly quickly. Seated in the- calling it a strip club seemed crass but he could not come up with a more accurate description- room was a lovely green woman who watched the others carefully.

The angel wasn't certain what she was looking for- was she also there to find an errant boy friend? Or was she perhaps there for business reasons? He supposed it would make sense regarding the name of the place if she were the proprietor. Turning away from the bar he walked over to her and paused for a moment- remembering his manners. "Hello. I noticed that you were watching the crowd- I am looking for someone-" Cas paused trying his best to think of how to describe Dean.

Gesturing he began. "About this tall- muscular- wears a lot of flannel- blonde- looks like he's been beat up by demons once or twice. Have you seen him?"

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  Is this Heaven? No, its Oregon.
Posted by: Luthien Vogeler - 09-14-2017, 06:25 AM - Forum: Luthien's Quest - Replies (16)

The journey from the Wandering Moon to the rock by Lost Lake where the portal was located was only fifteen minutes of easy walking, a far cry from the long hike that it had been when she had arrived in the Hub. This didn’t surprise Luthien terribly-the land around Lost Lake hadn’t worked according to ordinary rules of geography for centuries, and the Sword that she carried was the reason for that.

When they got to the rock, which had until recently, had held the Sword, and Luthein said “Please, stand in a circle, and touch the pommel of the Sword.” She pulled it from the scabbard, and so that it would be easier for them to do so. As always, there was something odd, and unearthly about the way that the Sword of the Lady caught the light, as though it was there, and yet not. As though it was pure elemental power that was, for the moment, in the shape of a sword.

When they were all in position, the Sword began to glow, and there was a sudden flash of light and Luthien was-

standing, alone, in absolute darkness. Then stars were there dancing around her a universe full of light and life and beauty



She was standing in a wood, like the one near her home, near Stath Ingolf, but it was different, as well. Trees she didn’t know were standing tall and others were missing, or saplings stood in their place. But it was the woods near her home, it could be nowhere else.

Before she could wonder too much, she blinked and one of the great redwoods shimmered and shifted, and took on the semblance of a woman. She was tall, and well muscled, and wore the tree and stars of a Ranger on her armor. Her hair was lighter than Luthien’s-a blonde so pale it was almost white. One eye was covered by a black leather patch, but the other was the same blue as Luthien’s own.

The Ranger smiled at Luthien and said, in Elvish “A star shines on our meeting, my daughter.”

“Who are you?” Luthien asked, not quite trusting the answer that was in front of her.

“I am The Lady.” was the reply, still in the Noble Tongue “Or one of her faces. Or so I became, when my Journey was over, and I joined with the Light. This face was the one I wore in your world, when I helped my brother on his Quest. I see that the Sword is smaller than it was when We gave it to him. Smaller and yet heavier, I think, than it was when my brother carried it. For it is a heavy task you have been given, child.”

Just then, the tree beside the Ranger shimmered, and became a woman, this one old and wizened with age. The woman’s skin was dark, so dark that it could truly be called black, and her hair was white, a cap of short curls cropped close to her head. She was clad in a loose dress, but somehow Luthien knew from her gaze and her bearing that this was a woman who had lived long, and seen much and was an authority to be respected. Then the rock beside the tree stood, and became a maiden, a girl of perhaps nineteen, dressed in nothing but a skirt made of thick strings, her honey colored hair falling loose to cover her breasts. She stood, graceful as a deer, and offered her arm to the elder woman, then the two of them took their places next to the Ranger.

The solemnity of the moment was broken when the old woman said, in a tone more than a little annoyed “A hard task that won’t get any easier with you talking in circles and babbling in that moon-speak, Mary.”

“I thought that it was elegant, and poetic, Marian.” the maiden put in.

“You would, Swindapa. You’re half an elf yourself, sometimes. What we mean to say is that its time for the Sword to leave your time and place, but its still needed in your world.”

“Its time for the snake to swallow its tail.” Swindapa broke in “For one world to die, and two more to be born.”

“Its a hard task.” Mary said, “But needs must.”

“What we mean” the crone said, giving her companions a quelling look “Is that you need to take the Sword to Nantucket.”

“Is that all?” Luthien asked. She’d been expecting something more difficult.

“It will be hard enough, child.” Mary said, “But you will do it, if you are strong.”

“As you will and must be.” the maiden said.

“Now, go back to your friends, and do your job, girl.”

There was another light, and Luthein found herself back among the stars, but as she left she heard a drift of voices-
‘Why were you so hard on the girl, Marian?’. “Its this body. Being old makes me grouchy. I swear, next time, you be the Crone.” “But if I”m the Crone, you don’t get to see me in a string skirt and nothing else.” “Not if Mary is the Crone.” “Hey-I’m staying out of this….”

Then the stars were gone, and she was standing by the rock on the shores of Lost Lake. The light was brighter than she remembered, but that could be the time of day. The smells were different and improbably, she heard the hubbubb of voices in the distance. Human voices, as impossible as then….

A bright red disk flew through the air, and hit her on the forehead.

(For this plot, we’re not sticking with the normal rules on post order. If 24 hours have passed since the last post, feel free to post, even if it isn’t “your turn”. Also, everyone in the Fellowship will be assumed to be present, even if you won’t post in a thread, so you don’t need to worry about your character being left behind because you get busy for a week. If action occurs, your character will be narrated doing something awesome, if desired.

This thread will be up for one week, then it will be closed out, and a new narration post will go up, and a new thread started. Later threads may be left up for longer, to allow for more posting, depending on what is going on in the thread. My goal here is to strike a balance between letting people to have plenty of time to play and keeping the action moving.)

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  Enjoying a Quiet Drink or Two
Posted by: Taopaipai - 09-13-2017, 03:30 AM - Forum: 4th Quarter 2017 - Replies (28)

Taopaipai looked on at the bar, or was it pub, that was called the Green Goddess with his face set in it's usual snide glare. His lips curled up into a small smirk as he saw the various folk come in and out of the bar. He had been searching around this hub city for a decent enough bar to sit by himself and enjoying a couple bottles, or more, of alcohol without having any nitwits bothering him during his downtime. Ever since he got here, every bar he's gone into some idiot always tried to act tough, only for him to brutally slap them down and teach them their place. He was hoping the same thing didn't happen here.

Grunting to himself, he whipped his braided ponytail over his shoulder, and with his arms folded behind his back, he walked into the Green Goddess. Instantly, he could feel a number of eyes snap towards him to stare at him. Resisting the urge to scowl in irritation, the pink-clad assassin found himself a seat at the very end of the bar, tucked into the corner and being obscured a bit by shadows. He stared at the bartender with his beady black eyes, and ordered the cheapest alcohol that was for sale here. While he waited for his drink, he sat quietly doing his best to ignore the all the stares he was getting.

It wasn't the first time he got stares. His appearance alone was enough to draw stares, but when you combine that with his pink outfit, which had the phrase KILL YOU! printed on the back in bright red, it was a guarantee that he would draw stares. When the bartender filled up his mug full of the cheapest type of alcohol that he could buy here. Of course, when the bartender asked for payment, Taopaipai sneered at him and looked as if he was ready to threaten the man, before he paused. He didn't know a whole lot about this Hub City, or what kinds of people usually wandered in it, so he decided against his usual methods of threats and such, and instead pulled out his wallet, slipping the bartender some money. Once that was done, he immediately went to consuming his drink quietly, all the while keeping an aura around himself that would keep others from bothering him.

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