The Bar In The Middle of The Multiverse (General In-Persona Chat)

[Lucius Baxter]

Giving a sudden loud snort from the chair which he had fallen asleep in, Lucius Baxter wakes up.
"I do appologise dear citizens, I didn't drool did I? I hate these sleeping spells that happen! Most inconvenient. "

[Alexis Voltaire]

"Yes, hmm..." Morriganus looks closely at Brantley's device, trying to reconcile the readings with what he knows of his own device. Wondering, also, how much more he can reveal safely. A twinge of warning touched the edge of his mind.

---

A dull screech of hinges and a sudden gust of damp, rain and exhaust-filled air announced the arrival of a new visitor. Rain dripped from the narrow brim of his hat as he shut the door hard behind him.

He was a little under medium height, and had a lean, wiry sort of build made of muscle and little else. A worn leather flight jacket hung open from his shoulders, underneath was a dark green buttoned shirt and a rather well concealed M1911 in a shoulder holster. His gray trousers were wet from the ankles down, and just below his right knee was a long thin tear about the width of a .38. A large black leather patch with a wide band covered his left eye, on either side was a reddish scar running diagonally from his cheekbone to just above the bridge of his nose. His hair was short, rather unkempt, and a dirty sand color.

Tired as he was, it took him a few steps to realize that this was not the place he'd expected to find on the other side of the door. He stopped dead, but after a moment to take in the atmosphere he decided that he could do worse, and at least this place served alcohol.

Another few steps brought him to the nearest barstool. He fell onto it more than sat, and propped his elbows on the counter, staring dully at the bar and lost in thought. He ordered a pint of beer when asked what he wanted; the barman looked closely at the coins he paid with, but shrugged and accepted them.

He took several large swallows of beer, and started to feel a little more alive, or at least something close to it. He also noticed who- or rather, what was sitting next to him. His eye widened, and he started just a little at seeing the red fur, ears, and muzzled profile of the creature - ? sitting next to him. But only a little, and to be honest it was the clothing that threw him more than anything. A fox in a three-piece suit he could have accepted, probably. One in medieval getup was a little harder to take.

"Hello, sir." Morriganus said casually, though perhaps not quite as friendly as before, noticing the stranger eyeing him. He smiled politely, revealing his teeth just slightly. "Morriganus Redleaf is my name." He turned slightly to offer a paw.

"Jack Burnston." He replied, shaking Morriganus's offered paw. It was furred and had rough pads, but not too unlike a man's hand with stubby fingers.

---

Morriganus breathed in subtly, testing the man's scent. He wasn't so bad, for a human, a scent of rain and harsh smoke hung about him, something like the furnaces of the human's New Bellwickshire back home. And a hint of gunpowder.

Morriganus frowned inwardly, placing his other paw on the lid of his stardial and closing it softly. This Jack reminded him closely, too closely of the human dimension-walkers back home. This one seemed surprised to see him. Yet not so surprised as to be unfamiliar entirely with those of his kind, and he didn't have that unworldly, otherworldly air of a seasoned dimension traveler like Brantley. Was this man surprised to see him at all, or just surprised to see him here?

But outwardly Morriganus showed little of these thoughts. He had also caught a pleasant scent about the man, one that reminded him of distant and wild starry nights beneath the Red and Icewhite moons. "You are not, perchance, acquainted with a tigress?" Morriganus asked, a spark of interest in his eyes. Perhaps this would also tell him whether the stranger was acquainted with his world.

Jack gave Morriganus a bewildered look, and after a pause and another drink of beer, replied. "You could say that."

[MWBailey]

The blackbox emitted a beeping sound, which persisted for about the space of three heartbeats, and the cigarette case rang with a clear electric bell sound, once, then twice, and then again as Brantley flipped teh 'pages' yet again to reveal a tiny rendition of a wireless transceiver set. he pulled the earpiece and tiny microphone from the surface, and said, "Hello? Brantley here." A pause, and then, OK, so why're you telling me this, Miss Sally's over at the table in the corner, and she has the authority, not me.... Oh? huh." He turned to the table where Sally and Cthuga sat waiting, and said, "Sally m'dear, the Warehouse's calling, they say they can't raise your unit, and they need you to mediate a dispute with the Caligulites over quasitemporal boundary codes."

"Is that so?" she answered, and pulled out her device, a large shell-shaped compact, and flipped a few pages of her own. "Drat," she said, "The antenna's on the fritz again." She pulled out a smaller version of the blackbox; this one had the look of a newer, more compact model. "Back in a bit, my darlings!" she said as her blackbox began to emit glowing green fog and a halo of green fire surrounded her; she finally dematerialized with a WHAM! of inrushing air.

[Alexis Voltaire]

The hell... Jack wondered darkly. How could he have known that...? Could he be one of those Beasts Dougan Feltcher is s'pposed to have hired? He hadn't expected something so obviously matching the name, but he knew all too well that appearances could be changed by powerful enough magic. And with the rumors that followed those assassins...

Do not be silly. A deep, yet smoothly feminine voice said in his mind. He scented you, what do you expect of a being with that nose?

So he did then. Jack thought irritably, wishing he'd thought of that. He studied Morriganus from the corner of his eye, swallowing another mouthful of beer. The fox had turned back to his own drink with a thoughtful look (as near as Jack could tell, being unused to reading animal expressions.) Jack didn't think Morriganus had taken his attention entirely off him either. More than likely the fox was just another oddity like himself, and he certainly wasn't a Bay native with those clothes. Still, feeling him out a little wouldn't hurt.

I would advise against hexing him. Shima spoke, sensing his thoughts before he'd fully formed them.

Jack frowned. Why not? Just enough to-

Beastfolk do not always respond the same way as humans. You've never tried it on one like him.

Jack returned a thought of irritation, his eye sliding back to Morriganus. "Food here any good? or do you know?" He asked.

"No. This place is new to me as well." Morriganus said, tilting his head, a glint in his eye. He was running a thick silver chain between his paws, and a spark of oily blue light seemed to drip from link to link as he moved it. Jack knew hypnosis magic when he saw it, though it had been years since he's been on the receiving end.

"Nice, but does it go with evening wear?" He said, moving his eye from the chain and keeping it fixedly on Morriganus's face. Shima nudged him with a sharp, warning feeling. He hadn't been wrong after all, something was up with this fox. Jack felt a sense of power rise through him, and he didn't try to stop it.

---

Morriganus frowned inwardly, feeling uncomfortable as he met Jack's intense eye. "Just a pretty thing, from my land." He said, twitching his ears and shrugging a little. This human was familiar with his magic, well enough to jest about it. Morriganus started to slip the chain back into a pocket, wondering if he dared to make an escape. He could probably make it home but he'd end up Tathos knew where, if the storm didn't tear him apart during the trip.

His paw stopped halfway to his pocket. He saw Jack's dark brown eye become flecked with streaks of bright gold, the human's gaze suddenly filled with a will stronger than his own. Before he even knew it Morriganus was caught and held fast under the hex. Who he was, his accidental arrival, visions of his homeland. He watched them dimly as they flashed through his mind in a few moments, aware but uncaring. Then the questioning went deeper, where he had come from, what he was after. The trap sprung, Morriganus recoiled and shut his eyes, suddenly himself again. His paw went to the slim handle of his soulstealer, drawing it in a flash and opening his eyes

The human still had his eye shut, a pained and shocked expression on his face. Morriganus grinned a little at his good fortune. That human might have some magic, but he didn't know that the agents of the queen were given special immunity against magical interrogation. Morriganus didn't have to aim his weapon at this range, he simply pointed and fired. A needle of green light shot from the crystal mounted on the oddly styled copper raygun, hitting Jack high in the chest. The human jerked back and slid off the barstool.

Morriganus got up from his own and stood, pointing the raygun harmlessly at the floor. "Only mid-range stun." He said loudly, in case anyone thought he'd killed the human and thought to restrain him. "My apologies, it had to be done."

---

But Jack was far from stunned, at least in the physical sense. Shocked, confused, and with a terrible headache from having Shima's power fed back into itself by Morriganus's mindtrap, but not truly incapacitated. Shima had taken nearly as bad of a hit, he felt sure, but since she didn't have physical sensed to dampen or hurt it only made her very, very angry. He couldn't help but agree.

Her strength and power and anger rippled through him, and with little coherent will of his own he found himself lost in it, aware enough only to know that he was losing control and had no hope of getting it back. He was up on his knees, a flick of motion pulled off the coat and shoulder rig. Everything else was close enough to his skin to change. Visibly, everything about him seemed to blur like a heat shimmer gone mad. He felt something similar, blurring between one body and another, one mind in forefront to another.

One moment a worn-looking man had knelt between two barstools. Now a Bengal tigress stood chest-high to Morriganus and three feet from him, a loud harsh snarl baring yellowed two-inch fangs, unsheathed claws digging grooves into the wood floor as she tensed to spring.

---

Morriganus reflexively aimed the soulstealer at the tigress, his paw jerking the the slide back to maximum power in panic. Partly it was bravery and training that kept him standing there, but mostly it was terror that made him forget how to run. The rational part of his mind knew that turning the soulstealer up that high without letting it cool from the first shot might well make the raygun explode, but by the look in the beast's eye, he and a number of others were going to die if he didn't.

[MWBailey]

Brantley flipped to a different page of the cigarette case, flipped a toggle, twisted a tiny dial, and then opened his watch. all six subsidiary panels swung out, and he touched a stud that caused three holographic panels to appear. suddenly he and Chthuga were engulfed in a rosy-golden light, and Cthuga, taking her cue, allowed her flames to rise suddenly. It looked as if she and Brantley should have been burnt to a cinder within their shield, but instead, the ambient power in the room sloughed and bounced off the light in silvery-blue flashes of electric fire. Brantley's lips moved without apparent sound, and he stabbed a small holographic button with his finger.
 Brantley's voice began to issue from a small iron ashtray by Morriganus' left elbow. "-Beg pardon. From  inside our present shield, phantasmic induction is the only way we can speak to you, other than telepathically, which would likely drive you insane in very short order. I strongly suggest that you and your feline accomplice cease hostilities, sir; you are in the presence of a being who is capable of apocalyptic destruction, and has  levied such on many occasions; a goddess, in fact, one of the Great Old Ones. This shield, in fact, is for your protection and that of the club and those in it, not ours. I cannot generate such power -- however, I can survive it, and anything your feline friend can dish out, and come back fit and fighting. Continue at your own peril."

With that, long suckered and taloned tentacles very similar to Cthuga's (which is to say, almost analogous to those of a colossal Squid, hooked and barbed claws in the suckers and all) shot out from under Brantley's trenchcoat as he assumed a fighting stance. Red lightning sparkled over his form and the distant but increasing howl of the winds of time began to echo as if from just outside the door  similar arcs began to play over the walls of the club as the field surrounding the Chthugans winked out and the clubs containment and stabilization fields began to be stressed.

"Really, beloved, such a thing is a nuisance, it makes my skin feel dirty," Chthuga drawled, completely unconcerned as if discussing a garment that irritated a sensitive part of her anatomy. "If these wish to be devoured, let them say thus, so we may dine. I feel somewhat peckish, in truth." The words slashed across the minds of the patrons of the bar, understandable no matter their origin or species, and many collapsed in fits of temporary insanity. The actual sounds she uttered were gibberish, mostly clicks and chittering ear-scalding screeches.

[Alexis Voltaire]

The tigress gave another long growl, but then her eyes shifted to the other man and the fiery being. She untensed her muscles and sheathed her claws.

Morriganus lowered his soulstealer, with a slight tremble in his paws. He backed toward a barstool, trying to use smooth movements that wouldn't show his trembling. He sat and leaned against the bar, putting the soulstealer away. He gave the tigress an unpleasant look.

The tigress spoke, a smooth feminine voice that couldn't have come from the throat of a real tiger. "Well met, majesty Cthuga."  She dipped her head in a respectful nod. "You speak to Shima, daughter of a God of Four Warrants." She added, a fierce pride in her voice. "Do not think I have little power of my own." Her striped tail flipped in irritation, her eyes moving between Cthuga and Brantley. "But I see no reason to continue fighting."

Jack. She thought inwardly, unsure of herself. Human, or humanoid affairs were something she didn't often concern herself with, beyond the formalities of royal courts. Jack! She thought again, giving him a sharp mental prod.

Yeah, yeah... The response was distant and tired sounding, irritated and a bit ashamed.

Shima's eyes moved to Morriganus, and she tilted her head slightly. "Jack gives his apology, and he says it is your fault."

No, I told you NOT to tell him... Jack thought irritably.

To his own surprise, Morriganus's lips twitched into a smile. "I give my apology as well. I thought you to be a being you are not."

[MWBailey]

Chthuga 's flames abated somewhat; the dimensional rift-barrier that Sally had set up before her departure had held, at least, so that the wallpaper did not start crisping and smoldering again, but waves of heat still flowed from her even as she 'banked' her fires somewhat. "Well met indeed, Shima Tiger-Princess," Chthuga said. "your choice is well-made, for yourself and your companion, and I too shall back down -- this once. I do not discount your power, but be warned, the Old Ones' appetites tend to be stimulated by power and the fields it produces. The aroma of yours is delectable, I must say." Within the mass of tentacles and feelers that approximated a head, there was movement that seemed reminiscent of a tongue licking a pair of lips.  "Beloved," she said to Brantley, "I must to Rl'yeh to feed; I shall be returning forthwith. Please do not make an incident by allowing your self to become ravenous in this one's presence, as her Uncle holds a seat on the Committee. Father Great Chthulhu is powerful, but eating ones detractors does not bode well for ones chair. Oh, for the simple days when we could simply eat the enemy... But no matter. Love to thee, beloved."

"And to thee as well, Sweet Chthuga," Brantley answered as the flames changed to incandescent air in the wake of the Goddess's departure. With a sigh and air almost of regret, he pulled in the tentacles, and shut away the timewinds. Soon, by all appearances, he was just another dapper patron in a trenchcoat and tweeds, thumbing through his cigarette case. "I trust we're through rattling our sabers, then? Come, lets have a drink together! Barman, a round for me and my friends, here..."

[Alexis Voltaire]

Shima, let me back. Jack thought. He was tired enough that he somewhat doubted he could stand up if he shifted back, but staying in Shima's form didn't seem like a good option either. Her form might be more resilient but she was also in control of it, and diplomatic she was not. As if to prove his point, she gave a sniff of distaste upon sensing his thoughts. Besides, Gods knew what sort of effect alcohol would have on her system.

Fine, if you must. She thought at last, yawning lazily. She put both front paws up on the barstool, which groaned warningly under her weight, and released her control, pulling her mind and body into the background. Jack felt himself blur back into solid reality, feeling like his body weighed far more than it ought to.

Behave yourself She teased, but also sent him a soft surge of energy that made him feel a bit more able to stand up straight. Jack rolled his eyes and reached down and picked up his flight jacket and shoulder rig, and his hat where it had fallen to the floor, and laid them on the bar as he sat down again.

Jack looked to Morriganus as he gratefully accepted the drink Brantley had ordered them. "Sorry." He said, figuring he ought to give a proper apology, one that wasn't under threat and coupled with an insult.

"Think nothing of it." Morriganus said, a bit stiffly. After a moment he added. "You- Shima was correct, more or less." Morriganus sipped at his drink, aware that he was being uncharacteristically rude, but he wasn't able to muster much more politeness under the circumstances.

Jack looked to Brantley, feeling that he ought to say something but not really sure what. "Thanks. For breaking that up and... keeping anyone else from getting dragged in." He hesitated, feeling like the metaphorical gears of his thoughts were missing a few teeth. He was sure that just a moment ago Brantley and his companion had been something otherworldly, something too much like the things that had eaten half the patrol squad sent to clean out a gang at the docks last year. The idea that this man could be both an associate of those things, and a human that cared about the welfare of others refused to make any rational sense. After a second or two he gave up trying.

"What... what is this place anyway? The other side of that door says it's the Red Dog, but it can't have remodeled this fast." He asked at last, trying for some topic that might produce a line of conversation he'd be able to follow.

[MWBailey]

"It's the kind of place that tends to occur in places where several hundred lines of causality pass withing close proximity to one another. Put simply, it;s a pocket universe which just happens to also be a very well-run, egalitarian establishment for imbibing, and for consuming foodstuffs, with rooms to let for those who require them. It wouldn't surprise me if it were riddled with hidey-holes, secret passages, and hidden laboratories as well; a cross-time Tavern, or Pub, if you will." Brantley said equably as he nursed his stout. "A place where people, despite being of disparate backgrounds and persuasions and species, can come together mostly peaceably and chew the fat, as it were."

[Professor Cyrus Poe]

Professor Poe entered the bar from its entranced in the city of Arkham, he scanned the room looking for “the monster”.
Yes, their was many nonhuman patrons hear so it would take time to spot his target.

Causally, he walked around the room looking around the tables and at the different beings that sat at them looking for his quarry.

As he walked he activated his cane or the “Ether Static Electro Cane" that kicked to life with an hum of green electric power that began to discharged a few random sparks as he moved around the tables.
Walking around the room he caught many strange looks from the patrons.

Then he walked around one table were one of the patrons seemed to be trying too hard to not notice the Professors scrutiny. That patron, a man in his late forties tried too hard to seem to be absorbed in this card game to notice the Professor looking at him with his "Ocular Ether Spectacles".

Just when Poe passed by him and the man seemed to sigh in relief as Poe whirled around to prod him in the back with a stabbing motion, his cane showering the table with sparks of ethereal energy as the man/creature screamed in agony. The pain made the Doppelganger transform back into its original and true form.

Professor Poe keep the cane activated in till the creature was a charred husk writhing on the floor.
Then sighing with relief he withdrew letting the canes discharge die and the commotion he had caused  with his attack die down with it.

The monster was dead. That mission was at and.
 Professor Poe sank into a chair to catch his breath. He called out for a drink and soon was coming to grips with the success of this first stage of his mission. Yes the monster was dead on the bar room floor , but were their was one doppelganger their was a nest of them .

Soon he would have to face the task of rooting out the entire brood of the unclean fiends from Arkham altogether

[MWBailey]

Well, now, that was interesting. Doesn't look like a Committee operative, Brantley mused in his own head. He'd had his own eye on the doppelganger for his own reasons, but since the thing was not trading directly in interdimensional or cross-tme contraband, he'd had no real reason to try and apprehend the fellow. Whnatever he was doing at the card game seemed to not have been very much of his own business; more of a suspicion on the cthulhid/human hybrid detective's part had piqued his interest, once he'd twigged to the fellow's state of being. A.U.N.T.S.A.L.L.Y.'d not support another of his little preemptive vapings, if true cross-time smuggling couldn't be proven outlright; Miss Sally'd raked him over the coals for the last firefight he'd started. I wonder who Shockboy does work for, though...

He glanced inside the cavernous interior of his leather airshipman's watch coat and noted the Ambient Causality readings on the Brick device in the inside breast pocket. He grimaced and and reached in and resttled the Mauser in it's shoulder rig, also adjusting the sensitivity setting on the Brick's AC guages. No crossing or diverging threads here, he decided, but 'thuga's paps, what a Gross Complication Potential! He shuddered slightly as he pulled in all but one of his tentacles (all had been concealed under the watch coat) so that his various bulges looked as human as the next guy's,  stood up, dropped three coins on the table for the barmaid's tip, and sauntered over to the doppelganger hunter's table with the half-finished stout in his left hand. He considered flashing the Temporal Customs badge, but discarded the idea. Too flashy.

"Mind if I join you?" He asked, "Been watchin' that guy."  He gestured back behind himself with his right thumb. "Friend of yours?"