nestle down a bit [OPEN]

[siriusly]

WHO: any/all
WHAT: open mingle log - an open, neutral zone for people to find new cr or mingle with current buds!
WHEN: December
WHERE: the Roost

Content Warnings: please tag in comments as needed c: for now, none in the setup flavor!

The days have grown shorter, the nights longer and colder, and the streets darker, save for the scattered blue lanterns over the doors of those who still welcome weary wanderers - the Roost down in Cellar Door being one of them. As the sun goes down, the lanterns go up, and Manabu Yuuki ensures there's someone, if not himself, around to make sure there are drinks (warm and cold alike!) and a few things to eat (or more, depending on who's on staff) to go around.

The first floor stays warm with a decently-sized hearth at one end, the entire place lit up thanks to the reflections off the many bottles lining the shelves behind the bar. With stone walls and old, wooden floors, conversations can get lost without echo for the right amount of heaviness in the air, so those who crave discretion may find some sanctuary here. The floor plan is also broad enough that more social butterflies may flit about and spy potential conversation partners without too many obstructions besides the shadows naturally falling throughout the place. Upstairs is quieter, chillier, and gloomier for the reclusive, broody types (but the balcony view still means downstairs can peep you up there, you can't escape perception for long nerds!!!).

So whether you meant to be here, or perhaps hazards of the winter required a detour...welcome! Sit down, have a drink, take a load off!

Comments

manabu - coldblood - ota (cws for lockjoint prompt + incoherency/delirium)

[siriusly]

[it's a rough month to be a coldblood. Manabu's not the sort to sideline himself so long as he has stamina, but December's found the thru-line between his thoughts and his words and comprehension pretty broken at times. this makes greeting people who cross the threshold into the Roost a struggle, so most may get just a nod, maybe a grunt, and then might just have to request an order multiple times for him to process it. hell, they may even be invited to just...get it themselves!

actually, most may just have free rein of the bar as the chill really, really gets to his joints. so long as no one takes more than their fair share of drink, no one's ankles will get snapped at by Magnet - his faithful-but-currently-cranky omen who radiates all the discontent Manabu himself won't outwardly.

movement has to be good despite pain, right? so while his knees scream and his fingers shoot dagger-sharp pain through his body, he will diligently work at tasks he can still wrap his head around...and some he can't. reorganizing the stock was never so difficult than now...]

[opheliac]

( if there's one person who can relate to thoughts and words are a task, it would be jinx. not so much with words but having to hear the dead echoing their input on a daily basis in her mind, it's rare her thoughts are just her own. however thanks to being a coldblood, words are now a mess too, and she hates it. although, that doesn't stop her from being a nuisance to trenchies and among other sleepers. because being a pest is all about action, not words.

so here comes jinx entering the roost. upon learning chizuru sometimes works at this establishment, the blue haired girl wanders in from time to time to mostly distract the worker and try to get her bail her duties. it doesn't work of course, but she still attempts. she is greeted with manabu and not chizuru which is fine -- it's been some time since she spoken to the sleeper and she's been meaning to bug him, too.

skipping in, jinx plops herself onto the stool at the counter with a big grin on her face. she wiggles her fingers to him as "wave/hello" and waits for her routine juice. the roost is the one place she never drinks alcohol in. why? because it's the closest to "the last drop" to her she will ever get. )

[siriusly]

Uoh--

[twin tails in shocking blue -- there's only one person in Trench like that, and only one of the sort Manabu knows of. because Hatsune Miku does not exist in his universe.

so when he sees her, there's an initial little startle, because she's apt to big announcements or immediate mischief if Chizuru is on-sight. in her absence, though...]

...

[ah. just...sitting for a spell? that's fine. while Magnet rounds the bar to give Jinx's shoes a tentative sniff, Manabu pushes off the wall he was leaning against and moves to get the juice mix Chizuru has prepped in advance for these kinds of drop-ins.]

Mn. He-here. [one glass of somethingsomething juice.]

[opheliac]

(yes, somethingsomething juice is her favorite! jinx leans over briefly underneath the bar to give magnet a few pets. and when she hears him a stutter "he-here", jinx comes back up and takes the drink; happily sipping away.

unlike him, she doesn't make an attempt to speak but gives him a peace sign of her way of saying "thanks". after a small moment of sipping, the girl cocks her head to the side and then lifts up arm to show her veins to him. this probably isn't going through clearly but she is trying to ask him if he is having the same issue with her with communication. )

[icanhearscreams]

[Jun's been helping around a bit more since Manabu's been stiffening up. He doesn't really mind - all the activity after being stuck in bed is nice. He finishes reorganizing the bottles and cleaning the bar before sitting next to Manabu.]

[He takes the other's hand and very slowly moves the joints, holding them in his warm hands. He doesn't want to hurt Manabu, but whatever's messing with his joints is going to make them stiff - and he knows very well what stiff joints can feel like.]

Still bad, huh? I bet it's going to be a long month...

[siriusly]

Mnh.

[Manabu's hands are ice-cold, and prying his fingers out of their habitual curl takes a little doing. it's doing that needs done, so Manabu makes the effort to try when prompted.]

M'lea--[he stops, grimacing. that's not the sound he wanted to make.] Least. It... Am not sleep.

[icanhearscreams]

[He rubs them carefully, trying to get some heat back into them. They need to be moved, but he doesn't want to cause the other any pain.]

At least you're not asleep? ... Yeah. You're here. That's what matters, right?

[He keeps carefully manipulating the other's fingers so they each get a little stretching and get warmed up a bit.]

I'm feeling kind of full of energy myself. More than usual... maybe that's a blood effect too? You would know better than me, but it seems like one... but it doesn't really matter I suppose. Either way we have to deal with it. But you need to not push yourself too hard - if you're in pain that's not your fault.

[faceblocks]

[vi has the heads up of dealing with the communication issue because jinx, and she's got the whole business of being a horse under her belt, so it's not like she can't figure out a way around this. doesn't mean it's easy, just that it's not a surprise, and not new ground.

so her request when she comes in, takes a seat at the bar, shaking the snow out of her (now glowing with pink and blue streaks) hair, is simple.]

Pour me whatever you want. Doesn't matter.

[and leaning closer, just in case it's as discombobulated going in as it is coming out:]

A drink.

[she watches his movements though - he's ...stiff. she can't be imagining this. oh, no.]

[siriusly]

Ha-hey-- [single syllables are easy to work with, and he looks relieved for both that and to see Vi herself. safe and not...y'know. a wreck like he kind of is.

he's painfully aware of the eyes on him as he moves with such care and effort to try and not make jerky movements - but that effort is a telegraph in of itself, isn't it?

still, he gets the glass out and, turning back to her, does a vague gesture at the shelf. drink of what?]

[faceblocks]

[her effects this month are manageable, though she does keep looking over her shoulder, and out any window she can see just to remind herself that they're there.]

I don't care, you pick.

[she says, but she points at the shelf vaguely before she asks:]

You want me to get it? I can get it.

[now she's just ...inspecting him. is he injured? is that the cause for the stiffness ....or?]

[facultative]

[Anakin doesn't normally drink, but this month he found himself with some excess energy and to burn some of it off he found himself going into places he wouldn't have looked at twice before. Finding Manabu here was just a bonus.]

Hey, I have a message for you.

[He picks up a bottle from the shelf at random and sniffs the contents. He doesn't return it to the spot he took it from.]

[siriusly]

Huh-?

[perplexed, Manabu watches this guy just...stroll on in...and grab stuff willy-nilly.

it's got a dim sting of nostalgia somehow...]

Ye-yah? [his brow pinches. this is tough. he hears you! he just...talks like a stroke victim now.]

[azurestar]

[It's been roughly a week since December started and Lance has been really struggling with trusting people's motives as a paleblood. On top of that, the flight or flight fear from Dorothea is creeping in slowly, and he does not feel at his best. He's used to combatting struggles in his mind, so it's not gripping him completely yet.

In a sudden stroke of odd desperation when he feels his mind start to spiral quicker than he can hold onto, he finds himself outside of the Roost. Since Diluc left along with just about more than half of every other strong bond he'd made here, he's kind of steered clear of this place. Despite the nice atmosphere and the sense of safety he'd found here, he decided that it wouldn't be the same.

But here he is, and there's other places he goes to to try and level his head out too, but none of them felt right. He swallows and steps inside… and blinks when he sees Manabu there. He'd known that the bar had traded hands to someone Diluc knew, but didn't know that someone was him. And on top of that, his empathic ability is picking up on the discomfort he's in.]

Uh, hey. [He can't help the guarded way he steps inside, it's the effects of the month trying to make him suspicious and fighting it is exhausting.] …I like what you've done with the place.

[It's a joke because he's clearly changed nothing, at least not that Lance can tell.]

[siriusly]

Hmh-?

[Manabu lifts his head, his attention having been down on the bartop he was steadily cleaning. Magnet jumps off of a booth seat and trots over to greet Lance, tail wagging only a little; everyone's a little sore in this house.

as for the remark, Manabu blinks, then pulls a faint half-smile.]

Uh, tha-thanks. Yah.

[obeir]

[ Through some stroke of luck, or perhaps owing to what he is, K isn't as affected by the strange delirium overtaking other Coldbloods. It might be harder to call to mind certain words, but that seems to be the extent of it for now. Which leaves him more than capable of picking up any slack on behalf of his fellow Roost workers and ensuring patrons don't get out of hand.

Just how much Manabu seems to be struggling certainly hasn't escaped his notice, and there's only so long he can watch Magnet channeling the discomfort Manabu's doing his best to conceal. The sight makes him sad. He recognises the signs of lockjoint, and it compels him to carefully take Manabu by the shoulders and direct him to the nearest chair. ]

Sit, please. I'll take care of the rest of the stock. But first we're going to do something about that pain.

[ No sense denying it, Manabu. You've been Perceived. ]

[siriusly]

[the Roost really wouldn't be keeping its lights on without K here - not just now, when Manabu's feeling so poorly, but just in general! he's been getting better about it, but Manabu is prone to overloading his plate with things to do between here, the Outpost, and other odd jobs and crises.

right now, at least, he's more amenable to sitting still! sort of. because while he still bristles at the touch, he doesn't dig his heels in and stubbornly keep working, but he does keep the bottle in his hands with him.]

K, uh-- Mnh... [he grunts, wincing a little as he sits.] O-okay, but--

[dohaeris]

[sansa dashes into the roost with lady at her side, brandishing an obsidian dagger and trailing a long snow-dusted woolen cloak. she slams the door behind her and something clatters against it that might be the dead horse of a white walker or an evil spirit in the shape of the mari llywd. sansa is very clearly distressed and out of breath. lady growls gently at the door.]

The White Walkers didn't come apart from the dragonglass dagger! It worked the last time...

[she brushes a small amount of snow from her thick woolen dress, but stops short of shaking it out of her cloak, for fear of making a mess. she frowns thoughtfully, her breathing slowly evening out.]

Their eyes were glowing red, and not blue. I suppose they weren't truly White Walkers, only some other creature or spell using my own memories to scare me. They were chasing me, though. I don't know what I'm supposed to do to get them to leave me alone.

[or disappear. through the windows a few red-eyed white walkers trailing red-eyed wights drift through cellar door, along with a representative of santas, maccabees, elves, yule goats and cats, and the mari lwyd.

sansa squints at manabu, seeming to really take in his appearance for the first time (granted, it's been like......two minutes).]

Oh––are you all right? Do you have lockjoint?

[the obsidian dagger will be a help with that, at least. so long as the crystals haven't started to form...she continues to hold it in front of her.]

[siriusly]

[quite the abrupt arrival gives Manabu a start - it sure as hell doesn't feel great to jolt that way, but when a girl rushes into the place in such a way, it's a negligible pain. Magnet bounds ahead of her, barking loudly and taking up sentry with Lady.]

Sh-sands-?! [with a hand on the bartop for balance, Manabu hobbles over, reaching out with the intent to offer an arm for balance while he shoots a glance out the window. his skin prickles and hair fluffs up, filling with dread as ominous figures drift by.

his teeth click as he closes his jaw tight, grimacing. it does not feel good to just idle while dangers are nearby, especially if--]

Mh? [he double-takes back to Sansa, brow furrowed.] Heard? You, auh...no, are you? Herd. Ogay?

[onerthes]

Manabu, are you alright?

[She was stopping by to check up on him, more than anything because she needed to check up on everyone. It was a side effect of losing someone. She wanted to be sure everyone was alright. And, while she couldn't place it? He looked like hell.

...

Of course, if she caught a whiff of Lockjoint, he was getting a talking to. This wasn't the first time for either of them, was it?]

[siriusly]

[first for him; he got off lucky last year while hew as running around...too fast for joints to freeze, perhaps? moderation, the real body-killer here.

Magnet's the first to greet her, given he's still a nimble little guy. so while the dog bounds over and hops up on two legs to petition for pets, Manabu scoots a bit along the bartop, lingering at a distance and smiling apologetically.]

Hi, hey... Umh. Auh, a...lil'...um. [he grimaces.] Au-off, uh...

For Maul

[obeir]

[ December has not been kind to the Roost's proprietor, Manabu, and consequently K's stepped up his involvement at the tavern to ensure everything continues to run smoothly. It's no hardship. These days the android finds himself easily settling into the familiar routine of a barkeep, a role he'd previously held for several years in Deerington. In Trench it's serving an even more important purpose for him, because he lives alone now and tends to be isolated — and thus at much greater risk for Corruption. The social contact inherent in being a barkeep is a very good thing.

The cold that's descended on Trench hasn't affected the tavern's patronage. Whether seeking a hardy drink and hot meal or simply to warm up by the hearth, the Roost has drawn quite a crowd as the evening wears on. Most occupy the tables nearest the hearth, though a few patrons linger at the bar or lurk upstairs. Despite the more modern cut of his formal attire, K doesn't seem out of place manning the bar — mixing and serving drinks, occasionally engaging in banter, handling the rowdier drunks as needed, and all of it's done with an ease that seems second nature. He's in his element here.

Which is what makes it surprising to feel a sudden flutter of what might be nerves when he catches sight of a certain horned figure in the doorway. He can tell at a glance it isn't Savage's hulking form, which leaves only one other possibility. ]

Maul. You came. [ And K actually sounds pleased by this (he had invited Maul, after all), already moving to clear a spot for him at the bar.

In contrast, a slight but noticeable hush has fallen over the tavern as several patrons cease their conversations to watch Maul, because, as ever, his reputation precedes him. It's a cautious regard, and not necessarily hostile — or at least not hostile enough to warrant K's immediate attention. ]

[survivalthroughhate]

[Maul looks ill at ease when he enters. For all that he interacts with people, most of the time it's done through the network rather than face-to-face. He spent so much of his life as an assassin that even now his mind whirs in a dozen direction at once when he's in such a crowded place, finding all the exits to the place, looking which of clientele would know how to fight, and which position would be most defensible if he got into a serious brawl. He can't help it, the habits that have kept him alive for so long are not easily broken. Given how unpredictalbe Trench can be, that might be a good thing. He can tell the patrons know exactly who he is given how it gets a little quieter as he moves through the bar.

He blinks for a moment in surprise when he sees someone unfamiliar greeting him. It takes him a moment to realize this sharply-dressed man must be K. Several things run through his mind, the first chief among them that this droid is extremely handsome. His brother has good taste in friends. He also didn't expect K to be quite this humanoid even though he'd mentioned it before. That's the bias from his own galaxy and expectations on what a droid usually looks like at work. His face tinges green just a little bit as he flushes, realizing he's still staring at K.

He sits down at the bar, taking off the coat Usagi got him for Christmas last year. He feels something else too, something...strange. It's like he's in the presence of another Force-user, the sensation weak and unfocused, rather like the Force-users he encountered who had fallen through the cracks instead of being taken in by the Jedi or other sects. He's taken back to a moment where he'd encountered one on Coruscant, deliberately killing the man purely for sport. Then he pushes that memory away. No one else from his universe is in the bar, so it can only be coming from the man in front of him. But that was impossible. Droids had a presence in the Force, same as anything else living did, but being able to be Force-sensitive wasn't possible for them.

Or at least it is for the droids from his own universe. Here, in Trench, where the rules are different who is to say a synthetic being couldn't feel the Force on some level? This is interesting. Yes, very interesting indeed. He wonders if Savage has sensed this as well or not, his brother not quite as attuned to something so subtle as Maul can be. He stares hard at K without blinking, quite a number of thoughts running through his head. Finally, he realizes he still hasn't spoken back, and rectifies that.]

Well, you offered and so I accepted.

[He says a little bit gruffly. It's nothing personal, Maul just has no social skills.]

Besides, I have to make sure my brother isn't friends with a complete lunatic.

[obeir]

[ While K isn't entirely sure what to make of the staring, he's an old hand at navigating all manner of awkward or potentially volatile situations, particularly in a public setting. He's got this. Offering an inviting smile in response, he just hopes to make a positive impression. For Savage's sake if not his own. K's been on the periphery of so much Maul-related drama between Deerington and Trench that he hadn't thought he'd ever be making overtures of friendship like this, but here they are. Interesting indeed.

His reply comes easily, meeting Maul's gruffness with a kind of genuine amicability that can't be faked. ] That I did. And I'm glad you accepted. [ Even if it's surprising, but he keeps this to himself, not wanting to inadvertently make Maul feel unwelcome. The lunatic comment just brings wry amusement to his expression. He's a very still waters sort of person, his feathers aren't easily ruffled. ] Lunacy's a high bar to clear in a place where our own blood can induce madness. But I do my best.

[ He's never been thrown into full on Beasthood, so that's saying something. The unusual qualities that Maul can sense from him might likely play a role in his increased resistance to Corruption. ]

What'll you have? [ A drink coaster is set out before he flips a clean glass right-side up in preparation. ] If you're hungry I could make something, too.

[ The menu is relatively simple tavern fare, no frills but hot and filling, and he's adept enough at cooking to ensure it'll actually be a good meal. Plus, everything tends to be so meat-heavy that it should satisfy a Zabrak. ]

Keith | Coldblood | OTA (cw for lockjoint and incoherency)

[tempredmental]

[Keith wasn't quite sure when he'd ended up outside the Roost, but he had. And it was cold. And he was stiff and achy, something he wasn't used to dealing with. And getting inside a warm place and getting a hot drink just sounded really good right about now.

So, he went in.

He'd just pointed to something on the menu that sounded good (it was tea...) and huddled into a corner table with it, resting his pained joints and trying not to talk too much out of fear of people not understanding him...]

Maul - Vileblood - OTA

[survivalthroughhate]

[Maul was not usually one much for company. He felt ill at ease when surrounded by too many strangers. But the Vileblood coursing through his veins this particular month had caused his mood to change on a dime. Whereas he usually hated being surrounded by people, he felt an urge to go out, to seek others that were just as tired of the cold as he was.

He made his way to the second floor after he entered, ordering something hot to be brought up to him. Once he had that in hand, he spent his time with his hood up and coat still on, watching the other patrons of the bar mill about on this level and the one below. He doesn't look like the most approachable sort but he won't bite off anyone's head if they want to sit down and just talk to him.]