[Invite Only] The Lounge

[SpaceHelicopters]

Wake up, Tenno...

 

 

 

 

 

Smoke coils and rises in the dimly lit room, making the scene seem dreamy through the light haze. No one in the room is smoking. The air smells faintly of cologne and seat leather. The light from the stage glistens off a pair of tinted lenses as the blind, one armed piano player sings his song. Nimble fingers tickle ivory keys and dulcet notes drift out from between his lips accompanied by the sound of an invisible jazz band. A tip jar- forever empty- glistens in the dim light at the edge of his black-as-night concert Heintzman. As his song ends, a soft applause rings out from the empty crowd, credits tinkling as they hit the bottom of the empty tip jar while a smile worms its way across the pianist’s face.

 

The man behind the bar shines you an endearing smile, his hands idly cleaning a glass whose rim has never met the soft touch of a customer’s lips, its basin never christened by the amber liquid that rested on the glass shelf behind the bartender. The bottles behind him had never been opened, remaining motionless for the duration of time, never collecting dust. Your eyes dart back to the man behind the counter. The bartender was a knowledgeable man; if you had a question, he has an answer.

 

Glowing in the shadows in stark contrast to the two others in the room stands a specter of a Tenno long forgotten, his gilded armor shinning like a beacon of hope in the dark room as he stands guard beside a locked door. The door has a golden handle and lock, the key to which having been lost to time. The Specter stands rigid, arms crossed, eyes forward in silence, waiting for the time that the next job must be carried out. A golden pistol rests on his hip, a full clip within, a bullet giggling with excitement in the chamber as it waits to be freed.

 

The pianist starts up again, a hush washing over the empty room as the invisible band fell in behind him. You somehow end up at the bar, a cocktail slowly sliding into your hand as the bartender leans on the counter with his elbows, eyes staring at the man on stage with a smile before he turns and winks at you.

 

“How’s it shakin’, Baby?” the man behind the counter says with a smile, “Grab yourself a girl, or a guy, I don’t discriminate, and get comfortable. Listen to the songs, have a couple drinks, maybe dance a bit. Frankly, I don’t care. You just make sure that when he,” he jerks a thumb over to the door with the golden door handle and the specter standing guard beside it, “calls your number, you head over, ya dig?”

 

You nod to the man, and with a tilt of your head, the glass in your hand is empty. As the liquid surges through your body and your senses dull, you feel a wave of calm wash over you. As the pianist’s keystrokes ring out in the smoky room, a voice invades your thoughts, saying:

 

 

”Welcome to the Lounge”

 

Stop right there!

 

Upon opening this spoiler tab, you have been bound to an electronic contract enforced by article 16; paragraph 12 under the Space Helicopter Squadron Charter of Law, RP Division (SHSCL-RPD).

 

In opening this tab, you are obligated to read its content to completion, without paraphrasing, skimming, cheating off of a neighbor, enacting a contract with the devil, or bribing the DM. No TL;DR will be given and it will not be an excuse for skipping this crucial information.

 

Should this tab be closed prematurely, Space Helicopter Squadron 7, Discipline Division, will be scrambled to your place of residence, where they are under orders to consume the contents of both your refrigerator and pantry.

 

 

Welcome to the Lounge

Where those who have yet to bleed go to wait.

 

When your OC is approved and in wait to join the IC, this is where they are sent. Here, they are allowed to mingle, drink, dance, and be merry until the time when their number is called.

 

Just a few rules:

 

• Violence is physically impossible inside the Lounge. Any acts of violence directed toward another OC or to a staff member of the lounge will result in the immediate pacification of the aggressor through spontaneous loss of consciousness. The aggressor will awaken later in a random booth or seat inside the Lounge.
  

   

   

• Living OC’s are prohibited from entering the Lounge. If your OC is currently in the IC, they are incapable of entering the Lounge. Only OC’s yet to enter the IC are allowed. Dead OCs are allowed to come here, however once the others are called, they will remain in the Lounge. Unless more accepted OC’s appear, the Longue will remain secondary to the IC and will not be updated for damned OCs.
  

   

   

• What happens inside the Lounge, stays in the Lounge. Any information that your OC learns inside the Longue will not be transferred upon leaving the Lounge and entering the IC.
  

   

Also, note that the second post here is your greeting, and no matter when you’re joining, you will be reacting to it. The post will be adjusted for every wave of incoming OCs, so read both this post and the one after it before writing your own first post.

 

 

 You may now safely close this spoiler and continue into the thread. Your food is safe to be consumed another day. 

 

Edited June 25, 2015 by SpaceHelicopters

[SpaceHelicopters]

You awaken in a dark room with a frameless door before you. You have no idea where you are or how you got here; all you know is your name, your story, and a distinct phrase that, while you aren’t sure what it’s for, know that it’s important. An intricate and beautiful number one is stamped onto the back of your bare, right hand. After attempting to rub it, you find out that it’s more of a tattoo.

 

Darkness extends out endlessly in every direction, the only light seeming to be a mysterious and dim one emanating from just in front of the door. The door isn’t connected to any walls, and you even find that there is nothing behind it either. The golden door handle glistens in the soft light, but other than the small bar on a slide at eye-level, it’s normal.

 

Even though it’s clear that the door leads nowhere, you can still hear the sound of a piano beyond it.

 

Suddenly, the slide moves back with a click, a white, digital eye looking out at you as the sound of the piano grows in volume. You can’t see much past the stranger’s head, but you’re able to make out that the room beyond is smoky and dimly lit. The scene is reminiscent of an Old Earth jazz club.

 

As the mechanical eye takes a moment to look you over, a soft, yet deep voice echoes from within.

 

“What’s the password?”

[Ghost333]

You awaken in a dark room with a frameless door before you. You have no idea where you are or how you got here; all you know is your name, your story, and a distinct phrase that, while you aren’t sure what it’s for, know that it’s important. An intricate and beautiful number one is stamped onto the back of your bare, right hand. After attempting to rub it, you find out that it’s more of a tattoo.

 

Darkness extends out endlessly in every direction, the only light seeming to be a mysterious and dim one emanating from just in front of the door. The door isn’t connected to any walls, and you even find that there is nothing behind it either. The golden door handle glistens in the soft light, but other than the small bar on a slide at eye-level, it’s normal.

 

Even though it’s clear that the door leads nowhere, you can still hear the sound of a piano beyond it.

 

Suddenly, the slide moves back with a click, a white, digital eye looking out at you as the sound of the piano grows in volume. You can’t see much past the stranger’s head, but you’re able to make out that the room beyond is smoky and dimly lit. The scene is reminiscent of an Old Earth jazz club.

 

As the mechanical eye takes a moment to look you over, a soft, yet deep voice echoes from within.

 

“What’s the password?”

The Ash wondered how the hell a tattoo was imprinted onto his suit. He wondered how the hell a tattoo was imprinted on him at all. He wasn't sure if you could tattoo metal. Sure, you could etch into it, but...

...maybe he was reading into this too closely. Best to simply pass over this odd circumstance.

Password...password...what was it? Limosine? Demolition? Crown Four? No, those were entirely different passwords for entirely different situations. Maybe it was Squirrel?

No! Wait it was-

"Shipwreck?" The Ash asked, his voice synthesizer bugging out. It sounded like a Scotsman had a vocal cord transplant with a Turian and somehow survived the procedure. Or maybe just a Scottish Turian.

[XionicoRX]

Unusually looking Bomber looked around and saw this freaky eye in front of him, which asked him the password, he silently said,  "Is it... Shipwreck?"

Edited June 26, 2015 by XionicoRX

[IrishHades1798]

Gaius cleared his throat as he approached the door, scratching at the One on his hand.

When the eye asked for the password, he scrambled around for something. However, he currently only had one word constantly running through his head.

"Shipwrecked" he said.

[SpaceHelicopters]

The eye blinks a few times, squinting as it takes you in through the dim light.

 

Then with a click, the slit slides shut.

 

After awhile, you feel as though you've somehow screwed up. Perhaps the word that had been echoing in your head was for something else? But what could have possibly happened to you to give the word 'Shipwreck' significance?

 

Before you're allowed to ponder that thought thoroughly, you're surprised to hear the door click, the metallic sound of tumblers turning breaking the silence of the endless darkness. The gilded handle turns, the door opens.

 

Nothing, just the other side of the darkness that you had seen before. Perhaps you had imagined the eye? Perhaps you were insane? 

 

Perhaps you were still imagining the sound of the piano? Wait, you could still hear the piano. It must be real, right? That is, unless the insane thing was true. Regardless, the music wasn't coming from the door this time. It seemed just past the threshold of where the door had been.

 

Then again, you knew nothing of this place. Who's to say that beyond that door lies a better reality?

 

Ask yourself: Am I prepared to step over the threshold?

Edited June 26, 2015 by SpaceHelicopters

[IrishHades1798]

Gaius looked around. Things were stilk the same around him aside from the music. He didn't seems to have another option. He stepped lightly over the threshold of the former door, unquestioning of the eye or even the darkness. His mind still was focused simply on the word 'Shipwrecked' and the music.

"I feel like I know that tune..." He said to himself, moving towards the Piano.

[Ghost333]

The Ash blinked behind his helmet. He got it right. No need for murderblades and lockpicking for once.

Besides, this wasn't his first step over insanity and into non-logic.
Straightening an imaginary suit, he stepped over the threshold of where the door had been.

Suddenly, he developed a taste for orange-flavored potatoes.

[SpaceHelicopters]

As your foot crosses over the imaginary line, the darkness pounces on you, pushing you to the floor and smothering you. The dim light and the gilded door fade away as the absence of light consumes you, fighting you with superior strength until you finally succumb to fatigue and lack the ability to struggle further. After that, the darkness takes your consciousness from you, leaving you to drift in the cold void.

 

You awake to the sound of the piano. It takes a moment for your senses to adjust to your environment, your head hurts, but it isn't like any physical pain or migraine you've ever experienced before. It's more of an ache that attacks the core of your being. Suffice to say, it isn't pleasant. 

 

Your senses finally gathered and your pain ebbing, you can now make out the specifics of the pianist's playing. His level of skill and dexterity seemed impossible for a man with only one arm, and yet, as an invisible band played along with him and an absent crowd echoed back in response, it became obvious that this stranger with shades was not bound by logic.

 I apologize for the video, but it's not the important part. I'd just play the video and close the spoiler.

 

Smoke coils and rises in the room around you, creating a hazy, dreamy atmosphere coupled with the dim light emanated from the candles at the center of every table. Oddly enough, the air didn't reek of tobacco. Booths upholstered with red and black leather lined the right wall of the room, matching table sets were set up in rows in front of the pianist's stage with a small incline with a black metal railing behind them. The bartender is set up at the back of the room, opposite from the stage, with a Specter and a gilded door to his left, and the booths and an out of order bathroom to his right.

 

There is one other patron in the lounge aside from you;

 

A woman with wavy, midnight-blue, shoulder length hair and lightly tanned skin sits on a bar stool at the Bartender's counter. She's Tenno, her apparel and the dull glow from her emerald eyes being a dead giveaway. Her clothing was comprised of a semi-transparent Orokin tunic with gilded designs on the sleeves and collar, a pair of tight, black leggings, and a pair of white pumps with black toes and heels. Bits of gold shone through her tunic from the trim on her immortal under-suit, a sign that she was not only Tenno, but a Prime at that. She also wore makeup, however not too much; just enough to really accentuate her eyes and cheek bones. For some reason, you get the feeling that her tan isn't real.

 

She, too has the one tattooed onto the back of her hand. Based on her appearance, she looked as though she was waiting for someone, but for who was a mystery. In contrast to her feminine appearance, she held the handle of a large stein filled with a frothy amber liquid, and based on the level of alcohol that remained, she hadn't been there much longer than you. 

 

Even though she was a total stranger to you, you would be hard pressed to deny her beauty as the focus of the scene. Dim candle-light flickered and illuminated both her face and glass, the reflecting light combined with the haze in the air giving her an otherworldly glow. Her legs were crossed and her feet rested on the stool's step, her elbows supporting her body as they rested on the counter and showing off her feminine curves. She was a petite woman, with a thin waist and a decent chest. Despite the bittersweet smile on her glossy lips, she appeared depressed, her luminescent eyes wet and shining in the dark room. It was as if she were a weeping angel, or perhaps a guilty succubus. Regardless, her appearance was breathtaking to say the least.

Edited June 26, 2015 by SpaceHelicopters

[Ghost333]

It was moments and scenes like this the Ash wished his suit looked more like a classy suit-and-tie combo, rather than...well...you know. A murderous edgy bastard who looks like they'd rip your throat out with their teeth and laugh as you choke on your own blood and spit. That was the main thing that annoyed him, really. He wasn't an edgy bastard: he was an oddball. He didn't like murdering hordes of Corpus or Grineer. Far too unprofessional. Better to eliminate one or two choice targets if killing is unavoidable.

 

Very noir atmosphere, too. Make that a coat and fedora, rather than a suit and tie. Makes you look the hero, rather than the villain/A******.

 

The Ash walked over to the counter. It wasn't a casual walk, or a 'casual' walk. It was the walk you'd see someone who thought they were the only ones there, not being observed. It was the kind that only a British Comedian would do for kicks. It was the kind a complete nutcase would do in public.
It was a walk that graduated with an A+ from the Ministry of Silly Walks university, with high distinction and honors, with professors from Oxford, Cambridge and Hull wanting an audience to teach their own students how it is truly done. It was ridiculous. It was absurd. It would've drawn attention from the naked eye, if that eye were on Pluto and the Ash were on Mercury. Alpha Centauri would probably notice something amiss, too.

 

He took a seat next to the woman and motioned for the Bartender. Seemed like a nice place. Of course, anything that seemed nice probably had something amiss to it.

[SpaceHelicopters]

The Bartender approaches the Ash with a smile. Instead of offering the Tenno a glass, however, he offers him a slate Fedora with a black band. 

 

Shockingly, should the Tenno look down at his appearance, he'd find that somehow the Warframe fused to his body was gone, replaced with the most fitting noir getup he could wish for, including a slate tie with an intricate, golden Lotus pattern and a tie-pin sporting a symbol only he could recognize and appreciate. If he checked his body, he'd find that there were no signs of scaring from his frame or any past battles. He was entirely himself.

 

The woman beside him showed no signs of noticing his sudden and extreme transformation, eyes still staring listlessly into the center of her stein.

 

"Ring a ding, ding, baby," the man behind the counter chimed, giving the Tenno a wink as he complimented, "Looking good there, pal. What can I get ya?"

[Ghost333]

The Bartender approaches the Ash with a smile. Instead of offering the Tenno a glass, however, he offers him a slate Fedora with a black band. 

 

Shockingly, should the Tenno look down at his appearance, he'd find that somehow the Warframe fused to his body was gone, replaced with the most fitting noir getup he could wish for, including a slate tie with an intricate, golden Lotus pattern and a tie-pin sporting a symbol only he could recognize and appreciate. If he checked his body, he'd find that there were no signs of scaring from his frame or any past battles. He was entirely himself.

 

The woman beside him showed no signs of noticing his sudden and extreme transformation, eyes still staring listlessly into the center of her stein.

 

"Ring a ding, ding, baby," the man behind the counter chimed, giving the Tenno a wink as he complimented, "Looking good there, pal. What can I get ya?"

"Scotch on the rocks." The Ash said, taking the fedora. Oddly enough, his helmet hadn't disappeared with his suit. Ah well, at least it looks ridiculous AND intimidating, he thought as he put the hat on top of his insectile head. It didn't fit well, but he didn't care. It completed the look and that's all that really mattered.

 

As the bartender left to get the drink, he noticed he could see his hand. He could actually see his hand. There was no glove or synthetic overlay, just flesh. Screw the trenchcoat and suit, the fact he had skin again was magnificent. He hadn't had flesh and blood since the Orokin Era.

...that may be embellishing it a bit, but still, it'd been awhile since any part of him had been organic.

 

He turned his attention toward the woman sitting next to him. "What's a doll like you doin' in a place like this?" He asked.

He hadn't seen very many noir films. The few he did see probably weren't noir at all. Though why would a Falcon be important? They're just birds.

[Owlrrex]

Souna found herself standing amidst the darkness, facing the door, her lack memory concerning the most recent happenings resembling a dream. She doesn't know how her hair's made, as well - that's one hint that she often uses to seperate dream from reality. Not a normal dream this is, though. She can't just pull a mirror from behind her back, like she can in her own dreams. This rather feels, as if she were visiting someone elses dream. Quite irritating. 

 

At least her clothing is comfortable for her. A firm, somewhat formal jacket, closed from bottom to collar, the sleeves starting rather tight and widening towards the hands. Her trousers, made from same cloth and style, have wide legs from the very start, a rather airy touch to it. The basic cloth is of white color, seams and intricate ornaments glisten in golden and black thread, even more than in reality. It's the same clothing she wears when not in her warframe, and she's thankful at least this has stayed.

What stayed as well, is her stigma. As she notices the brand on her right hand, she notices that as well. It's not like she has a problem with that. It's biologically a part of her, and she's in equilibrium with it as well, so why would it not accompany her on her every step, in whatever world? Fascinating, though, how the number on the back of her hand just seems the absolute same as the surrounding tissue in every matter except for color. She sighs in relief that it is not a simple, blocky number that would blemish her appearance, but an ornament worthy of what she deems her 'elegance', but others have as well titled 'her feeling too special'.

 

Since she herself is... well, just herself, she doesn't spend much time on it. Rather, she starts investigating the door from every side, tapping it's edges with the fingertips, matching the piano-play from 'inside'. She can't keep up well, and not for long. Thinking of herself as at least reasonably musical, she steps in front of the door again, glaring at it in the most dignified way possible to cover her disappointment.

 

At last, Souna meets eye to eye with the eye peeking through the door. From the moment when she notices it's a mechanical one onwards, her pride is no longer forced. To her, technology is an assistant, overstepping its boundaries with anything but humble service. She gets asked for the password, and only one words comes to mind - something, that has saved her once before from darkness, and she somehow is sure it will serve the same purpose here again: 

"Shipwreck. And I hope that this is not foreshadowing what awaits inside." Souna doesn't really expect an answer. Not one of any meaning, at least. 

Edited June 26, 2015 by Drandko

[XionicoRX]

After the door opened, he sighed from relief and stepped through the threshold and walked forward. After a step, he felt being pushed, so he just fell on the floor and with this armor on him, he clearly lost his consciousness.

After a while he woke up on the floor. He stood up and only now he heard this piano playing, so it was the sound he followed.
 

He looked around and saw the bar, he went there, sat on stool and without thinking he asked barman, "What is this place?"

Edited June 26, 2015 by XionicoRX

[IrishHades1798]

Gaius blinked his eyes a few times, almost unbelieving of what he saw around him. It was like one of his dreams. The scenes and people he had studied from old Earth books with his friends. He remembered having a dream in a scene like this. He wasn't in his Ash Warframe, but instead an old U.S. army uniform, sitting with his most trusted clanmates. He danced with the other clan leader, and the rest of the dream was a blur but he always remembered how much he missed it, and wanted it to return once more.

And here it was.

Almost as if he was on autopilot, Gaius moved to the bar. He sat one seat away from the women, who he couldn't help but notice. He motioned for the Bartender with a slight raise of his hand, saying, "Scotch over here when ya can." After his order, he looked towards the women. Her beauty was captivating, with hair you could get lost in for hours with just a simple glance. He turned slightly towards her, but only enough to show he was talking to her.

"What brings a girl like you to a place like this?" He asked softly, with a slight grin.

Edited June 26, 2015 by IrishHades1798

[SpaceHelicopters]

Souna:

 

The eye blinks a few times, squinting as it takes you in through the dim light.

 

Then with a click, the slit slides shut.

 

After awhile, you feel as though you've somehow screwed up. Perhaps the word that had been echoing in your head was for something else? But what could have possibly happened to you to give the word 'Shipwreck' significance?

 

Before you're allowed to ponder that thought thoroughly, you're surprised to hear the door click, the metallic sound of tumblers turning breaking the silence of the endless darkness. The gilded handle turns, the door opens.

 

Nothing, just the other side of the darkness that you had seen before. Perhaps you had imagined the eye? Perhaps you were insane? 

 

Perhaps you were still imagining the sound of the piano? Wait, you could still hear the piano. It must be real, right? That is, unless the insane thing was true. Regardless, the music wasn't coming from the door this time. It seemed just past the threshold of where the door had been.

 

Then again, you knew nothing of this place. Who's to say that beyond that door lies a better reality?

 

Ask yourself: Am I prepared to step over the threshold?

[SpaceHelicopters]

Ashes:

 

The Bartender immediately procured their respective drinks, placing a frosted glass filled with their spirit of choice and crystal clear ice in front of them with a satisfying click as the glass made contact with the wooden counter.

 

"Here you are, gentlemen. And don't worry about coughing up dough; the drinks are on me."

 

With a smile and a nod, the bartender dismisses himself to attend to other patrons.

 

The Tenno woman simply responds with a "Hmm?", her head slightly raising while her luminescent, emerald eyes continued to gaze deep into the amber foam in her stein. Her wavy hair bounced with her slight movement, the midnight waves giving off a gorgeous sheen from the flickering candlelight. 

 

Gaius:

 

You have no idea why it has taken you so long to realize this, but a mental palm meets your forehead once you realize just who this beautiful woman is. She was a rather integral character to the story that was your life, after all. Still, for her to be dressed so... breathtakingly... This was definitely the most feminine you've ever seen the woman, however you do find her skin color odd. After all, she hadn't had a tan in forever. Her skin was usually...

 

Fulgurus:

 

The Bartender approaches with a disarming smile, hands idly cleaning a glass as he leans on the counter to meet him at eye-level.

 

"Don't blow your wig, Baby, you're at the Lounge. Grab a girl, or a guy, I don't discriminate, and get comfortable. Enjoy the music and the atmosphere. Here, let me make you a drink; don't worry, it's on the house."

 

Of course, all of the drinks were on the house. The Bartender knew that these people came without money.

Edited June 28, 2015 by SpaceHelicopters

[Ghost333]

Ashes:

 

The Bartender immediately procured their respective drinks, placing a frosted glass filled with their spirit of choice and crystal clear ice in front of them with a satisfying click as the glass made contact with the wooden counter.

 

"Here you are, gentlemen. And don't worry about coughing up dough; the drinks are on me."

 

With a smile and a nod, the bartender dismisses himself to attend to other patrons.

 

The Tenno woman simply responds with a "Hmm?", her head slightly raising while her luminescent, emerald eyes continued to gaze deep into the amber foam in her stein. Her wavy hair bounced with her slight movement, the midnight waves giving off a gorgeous sheen from the flickering candlelight. 

"Cheers, doc." The Ash said to the Bartender. He raised his glass in toast to the generosity of the host, removed the part of the mask obscuring his mouth and took a sip of the scotch.

Oh dear god, that burned. He'd forgot that alcohol tends to do that to organic tissue. He'd probably get drunk off of that one sip. Or the glass, whichever came first.

 

He turned his attention back to the woman. "I asked what a woman of your high and refined caliber would be doing in a place like this, sipping beer instead of wine. Given how melancholy you look, an outside observer such as myself would think something bad has happened and you want to get away from it. Am I hitting the bullseye, or am I getting the booby prize?"

[IrishHades1798]

Gaius felt a surge of something he was not entirely sure of. It felt like shock maybe, but also a bit of relief, humor and awe. He had never seen her in such a way. He never remembered her hair being so... long. Gaius had never seen her in such a light. It made his heart flutter, but he could not describe the feeling. It wasn't what one would call love, but something else in its entirety. Something more along the lines of a proud father or a joyful relief. 

 

"You know," He began. "A warlord such as yourself shouldn't seem so down. Especially in such a place like this." Gaius turned in his chair to face her, getting a better look at his friend. The clothing he realized seemed also a bit unlike her. To her, he would have thought something like that would have been over the top in her eyes. It reminded him of the way he saw women wear in old pictures his Cephalon had showed him when he was trying to learn more about the past. 

 

"Whats got you down, Magdalene?" He asked her.

[Owlrrex]

The female Tenno was not sure what was more frustrating: Wasting this dream talking to a door, or talking to mute robotics. What she did know, though, was that being ignored by a door was something she could live with. Being ignored by an AI, however, felt a lot more like a disgrace, since she was the only person in this darkness. This might not be her dream, but it is a dream for her, she's sure of that.

Insanity? To her, it's just a thinking outside the box. Even chaos incarnate, the void itself, had certain rules after all, otherwise there would be no way to reach the orokin towers and return. 

 

Until the door opened unexpectedly, Souna had spent her time combing her hair with bare fingers, fluffing it up and combing again. What kind of hospitality was this, making a lady wait and not even tending to her basic needs? Sparks of anger were quickly dispersed by the disappointing sight that the opened door beholds. She stared at the empty frame, for mere seconds, then her eyes fixed on the closed slit in the door where the eye hid.

 

"You will gain nothing by testing a Tenno's determination." she states, while already stepping through the door. 

 

It is probably every warrior's instinct to resist. Whatever comes at you, with an intent as this, you stand against it. For Souna, it is just the same. Despite her efforts of resistance and mental strength, she's overwhelmed and subdued. However, there is no final uprising from fear for mind or body: Her memory telling her that this is not within the bounds of causality, and the fact that she sacrificed that instinct of hers long ago, leave nothing to stir her calm as it grows cold all around.

 

---

 

The pain that accompanies her awakening makes Souna grit her teeth. The realization, that whatever of a grand entrance just might have pulled is ruined by that grimace, adds insult to injury. Disguised as a slow, confident adjustment of the hair around her face, she can brush away some of the aching, or maybe it just fades at the same time coincidently. It is also then that she notices that her bright white clothing is maybe the brightest thing in the room. It's virtually shining herself, not like a ghostly figure, but with most definite shape like a marble statue. Of course, on the other hand, the darkened half of her face looked even more sunken and 'gone' in this dim light than it would have elsewhere. She knows that, and if this strange place grants her wish, golden eyeshadow with a long swing from the corner of her eye helps to make her gaze less assymetrical.

 

Only after she feels her outward appearance properly refined and worthy, she takes in what is visible to her. The only other woman in the room made her resolutely decide to not be outshone, but also the hints of her being a Prime caught her eye, and commanded her at least a little bit of respect. Two good reasons to not get mixed up with her any more than necessary.

As for other people, they were a colorful lot: One classy gent talking to the stein-holding lady in a maybe-not-so-classy manner. One other talking to her in a rather familiar fashion with a confidence fitting his military uniform. And a rather disoriented looking fellow a bit aside, but on the counter as well. It's not like she knew any more about this than he did - she just hoped it was less obvious on her face and body-language than on his. 

 

Well, standing there forever sure would not make her seem secure. Taking a deep breath to feel her body, and then taking one step after another towards the counter, she maintained a strict posture as well as a flowing way of movement that was well underlined by her wide sleeves and cloth sidling around her legs. With graceful alternating speed, like a leaf in the wind, she strode over to the counter and selected her seat carefully, between the declared soldier and the man sitting aside from the rest, but with distance to the first and bit of distance to the latter.

 

"I will take this seat, I assume." Were her first words towards the man next to her. She sat down without waiting for an answer, not expecting him to reject her company.

[XionicoRX]

Fulgurus:

The Bartender approaches with a disarming smile, hands idly cleaning a glass as he leans on the counter to meet him at eye-level.

"Don't blow your wig, Baby, you're at the Lounge. Grab a girl, or a guy, I don't discriminate, and get comfortable. Enjoy the music and the atmosphere. Here, let me make you a drink; don't worry, it's on the house."

Of course, all of the drinks were on the house. The Bartender knew that these people came without money.

Fulgurus smiled and sat down on stool. "If there is a possibility, I'd like a mug of best beer you have on the house."

He looked around and saw that everyone looked so classy in this place, but him. Black bomber sitting on a stool next to bar, that's something you don't see in every bar.

Edited June 29, 2015 by XionicoRX

[SpaceHelicopters]

Umbra:

 

The refined woman let out a soft, annoyed groan at the Ash's analysis of her situation. She wasn't a fan of his arrogant attitude, and the fact that he seemed to follow the stereotype she'd come to expect of most Ashes only made her start to miss being the only person in the bar. 

 

Tilting her head to the side and eyeing the offending Tenno out of the corner of her gorgeous emerald eyes, she appeared as if she was going to speak some choice words. The woman remained silent, however, her angelic face transitioning to one of surprise when she heard the Tenno on her other side speak.

 

She rotated her seat to face him, her dazzling, midnight waves shinning in the dim candlelight as they floated through the smokey air.

 

Gaius:

 

The moisture returned to the woman's eyes as she faced her long-time friend, doing her best to suppress the wave of emotions that had suddenly flooded her heart and were about to escape her eyes. Her face relaxed, a soft smile spreading across her lips as she gazed upon the Ash with wet eyes. As happy as she was to see him, she also lamented his presence here, fear gripping her core as she worried for their clanmates who would be without direction. One could only assume the mess the Twins would create in their absence.

 

Regardless, this was the last place she expected to encounter a friend. There was so much she wanted to tell and ask him, but she suppressed her excitement, holding back her emotions as she simply said:

 

"It's good to see you, Gaius."

 

Fulgurus:

 

"Coming right up, Pal-ie," the Bartender said with a smile, placing his glass and cloth underneath the counter and retrieving a frosty stein from seemingly nowhere. He placed the rim of the glass under the tap, pulling a lever to release the amber liquid. A moment later and the frosted glass was in front of the Grineer armor-clad Tenno, a frothy head beckoning his lips to the cold rim to partake in the alcoholic ambrosia.

 

Souna:

 

Before departing from the Black Bomber, the Bartender placed a white compact with golden, Orokin inscriptions on the wooden counter in front of the woman with a wink. The gilded compact contained a mirror, a soft brush, rose-pink blush, a smokey eye shadow, and an alternate exotic and eye-catching eye shadow. 

 

The Tenno would also find that when she looked at her reflection in the compact's mirror that the fossilized flesh that clung to her face was gone without a trace, her skin flawless once more.

[Ghost333]

Evidently, the guy on the other side of the bar knew this woman. They would probably have a conversation all to their own.
It'd be a shame to interrupt.

 

The Ash simply went back to drinking his scotch. Still burned. He'd need a glass of milk or something after this. Or healing nanites. Or both, even.

[IrishHades1798]

"You make it sound like we haven't seen each other for ages." Gaius said. "But its good to see you too. Have to admit though, never would've thought I'd have seen you in a place like this."

Gaius was concerned now. He knew her well enough to tell when she was troubled, the problem was is that he couldn't quite place it. He thought for a second that it might be the Twins but knew that couldn't be it. He figured he would try and ease the situation.

"In case you're worried about the twins, I already took care of it. Sebastian and Quinn were practicing the Piano when I left and I told Rollo to keep the heavier beer open for Harley so that she would drink herself into a stupor."

He was lying of course as he had no recollection of the recent on goings in the Dojo, but he had a feeling that telling her this would ease her tension a bit.

[Owlrrex]

Souna did not expect any presents, thus she was a little startled about what is given to her by the bartender. As she opens it however, she flashes an honest smile towards the man. 

"My, how considerate of you, dear Sir!" she sighs in relief, before her own reflections make her freeze, startled.

 

No way. No way this was real. How could she have missed this up until now - the stiffness gone, her fingers unchanged? Once more her belief is strengthened that this is but a dream. But is she a fool to reject it for the mere sake of reality? 

 

Apparently not: The woman takes even greater enjoyment in beautifying her now flawless face, not too shy to use the exotic eye-shadow to complement the nigh-golden glow in her eyes. They say a woman can't be beautiful unless she feels like it - and Souna feels like the queen of the world right now.

With a click of the compact closing again, Souna shifts the case back towards the bartender's side of the counter and takes a deep breath of the sweet smell of rebirth. At least, that's what it feels like to her. Meanwhile, the broad Bomber-shoulders next to her order and receive a beer, and the voice of the man gives away that beneath the armor lies not a mangled Grineer-face. Maybe what a Grineer could have once been - but still, there was no brutish tone and a civilised choice of words, so even Souna with her head in the clouds could not jugde him that harshly.

"Have you not found a single suit to dress up here?" she adresses the not-Bombard elegantly, her polite tone mindered only by her slightly condescending gaze on the other's choice of attire.

Edited June 30, 2015 by Drandko