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Galaxy's Edge Space Bar (archive)

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SubVisser46OTAM:
((Upon the request of an old friend, I joined and started up the Space Bar from an old chat RP that some people were in years ago. Enjoy!  :D ))

A small, nearly forgotten hub sits in a secluded corner somewhere in the galaxy.

As it is approached, the old bar looks rather nondescript. It sits in a small field, a lake to one side, surrounded by woods. But even in such a remote location, it is somehow easy to find.

The worn log building shows years of wear from the elements. Moss clings to the wood, the door hinges are rusty, but somehow by some stroke of luck, the windows are all still intact.

Inside there's many tables and chairs, a couple of them broken, creaky, or a bit off balance. As always, there's a few in dark corners for those who prefer to lurk. There's a bar, fully stocked, and a kitchen in the back with an almost unending variety of food, somehow still good. Up near the ceiling there are rafters for those who like the aerial view. There's a thin layer of dust over nearly everything, and the building has a sad, neglected feel to it.

In its heyday it was a place where people of all species and sides gathered. To argue. To laugh. To make peace, or war. It was a place of love and hate. Battles were once sometimes waged here, evidence of that shown in the burn marks on some of the walls, and some tables and chairs shoved into a corner, beyond repair. But for many, it just offered a respite from the war that waged, a chance to come in, get away from it all, and enjoy a good drink, and possibly some good company.

Yes, the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar sits there, in its own little corner of the universe, waiting for people to one day return...

((Okay, so this is just a generic Animorphs rp setup. Player driven plot, no big storyline to follow. Rules? Play whatever you want! Yeerk, Andalite, Chee, Human, it doesn't matter. Use your imagination, and have fun! The Galaxy's Edge Space Bar is now open!))

GESB Danger Signs

You might be Doing It Wrong if...
1- Your characters interact with each other more than other players
2- You crack more bones than jokes
3- You tell us more about your wicked sweet armor or special space powers than you do about what kind of drinks you like, things you say, things you've done
4- You use video game/anime art to describe your character rather than words
5- u abuze teh 3nglish langwage- bad spelling, text speak, bad grammar, etc.
6- You tell people your attack hits rather than letting them tell you if it hit them

Yarin:
(what about original species lol you said play whatever you want.)

Myitt:
((Yup!  Play anyone you'd think could (or would) show up at a bar in space.  And stay away from the player piano in the back...thanks for starting this thread Sub! ^__^))

The ground beneath the bar trembles faintly.  Not even enough to rattle the dusty bottles of booze behind the bar, of which there are many and of great variety. 

A sound like electric feedback, or static, reverberates behind the bar, and in a flicker of light a man appears behind the counter. 

He's not an old man, nor is he very young--his age is impossible to place.  He is pale, almost Caucasian but a little bit too unhealthily white for even that to be certain.  His black hair is neatly combed, and he brushes his eternally smudged apron.  In his apron chest pocket sits a small yellow lined notepad, the kind you flip the pages over on, and a single black clicky pen.  This man, if he really is a man, is entirely solid and made of apparently real flesh and bone--even though he just appeared out of thin air.  How odd...

His name is the bartender.  Just...the bartender.

The bartender sighs noiselessly, looking around the dusty bar, and picks up a glass tumbler.  He starts drying it with a dirty dishtowel, even though it's already dry.  Yes, business has been pretty slow these days.

((Just a note: anyone can co-play (or "Yeerk", har har) the bartender if you need to get a drink, no need to wait for me to hand one to you, but there are a few odd things to know about him.  First and foremost involves that notepad in his pocket ^^))

Yarin:
Yarin entered the bar, the young Nyac was on leave from his home world. He approached the bartender. "I would like a Nanander." he asked. His telepathy had been acting up and he knew the bright yellow drink would sooth his mind.
(I cant wait for some females to come in lol.)

Myitt:
The bartender nodded, then pulled out the yellow notebook, opening it to a fresh page.  He scribbled two words in the language Yarin had used and showed the page to the traveler.

"Cash or tab?" was the equivalent of what the paper read. 

The bartender turned to the many dusty bottles and ran a finger along each one, walking to the other end of the bar.  He picked up a couple of bottles and poured them together.  The stench was horrible, like really strong vinegar, and the liquid turned bright yellow inside the glass.

He walked back to Yarin and handed him the drink, picking up another tumbler and drying it idly.

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