Just Another Day (Open)

The sky was grey with overcast, and the air was cold with the wind gusts, "Winter is nearing..." Quindaro muttered, as he walked out of the shop garage door, closing it with haste as to not let much of the heat out. Tildwing is a average sized town, not as advanced as Oak Hollow but it doesn't need to be, Quindaro owns a two car sized garage that serves as his main shop, working on vehicles, clocks, computers, and utilities that may be considered outdated. His living quarters is located directly to the side of the shop, two stories high, he keeps his equipment in the basement, his kitchen, dining/living room and guest room in the first story, in the second he keeps his bedroom and office.

Walking down the road, he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, "Need to check the job board before heading to the Iron Knuckle for the night." he thought, as he turned the corner, able to see the populated town square where the notification board sat with a work listings for temporary or long term work propositions, or for bounties, escort jobs, or clan recruitment. Quin approached the board after waiting for a couple others to move out of the way, when he got his turn, he found that it'd been picked thoroughly of what made any sort of significant pay. He cursed under his breath, "I'll have to check again some other time..." he said starting towards the Iron Knuckle Pub that sat down the road from the board.

The bitter cold of winter bit through my clothes and at my skin. I ignored it, continuing down the path to a pub known as the Iron Knuckle. It wasn't anything to special, just any other pub in any other town. I was just interested to see if I could learn anything about the people in this town, and if they knew about any new guilds, people, or just Dragon Storm in general. Just from arriving close to the doors I could hear the slight chatter of people. Taking a slight breath of the frosty air I opened the door and stepped in.

It was a nice looking pub, nothing too fancy and definitely not one you'd be worried about stepping in. At the bar I saw a few open seats, taking one next to an open one and a drunk trying to hit on a girl nearby. Nothing was going to come out of him until she left, and maybe not even then. And who could say he'd even know what he's talking about? I waved over the bartender. "Could I have a glass of water, please?" I asked. He gave me a strange look, as if saying 'Why are you in a bar not ordering beer?' but I ignored it. As I waited for the drink I glanced around, trying to listen on some conversations, but not being too obvious about it and acting casual.

Quindaro approached the Iron Knuckle Pub, pulling the door open. As he walked inside the warmth enveloped him, along with that there was the the low murmur of friendly townspeople talking among themselves while the sound of a piano filled the low lighted pub, the fireplace crackling softly. Walking past several tables Quin approached the bar, "Hey Theo, gimme the usual." he said taking a seat just as the barkeep brought an iron stein full of coffee over to him. "How's that project coming along?" he asked as he started wiping the bar down. "It's coming, still in the sketch process, so it's slow going..." Quin said while adding cream to his drink.

Cicero had been on the road, travelling for several days. After staying in the exact same forest for the few weeks he had been in The Beyond, he had gotten quite bored. He almost never got bored, either, especially with his insane daydreaming of the Void and his Mother's voice. He had been walking for what seemed like an eternity when he came across a small town.. By the signs posted all about, Cicero assumed that this village was called Tildwing. He saw posters like, 'Tildwing Inn', 'The Best Market of Tildwing', etc.. Honestly, the mad jester thought this town was sort of cute.

What caught his eye was a bar. Yes, a bar sounded great. After many days of travel by foot, Cicero could really use a drink. He walked in. It was a pretty fancy place to be... The jester didn't speak as he made his way to the counter, glancing at others as he walked by.

((Sorry for crappy post ))

I watched as another person came in, taking a seat at the bar. I slightly watched him from the corner of my eye, quietly thanking the bartender as he gave me my water. I took a sip, listening as they had a short conversation. The man must come in here often, especially because he knew of his usual drink here. I was interested in what his project was. Probably just coming in and asking wouldn't reveal anything, and I doubted he'd talk about it in a bar like this. Then again, with everyone being drunk and uncaring his might. I took another sip before hearing the door open again. Glancing at the new person from the corner of my eye he really stood out. Red and yellow clothes, he reminded me of stories of jesters. Of course, I didn't know much about them, but still knew enough to recognize one. I wondered what it was doing here, and took another sip out of my water, continuing to listen around me and hoping he might slip what his project was.

The barkeep went on about making the rest of Quin's order, before stepping back to the small kitchen area, he glanced at the two newcomers, "How's business been lately?" He asked Quin as he started a fire underneath a cast iron gristle. "It's been somewhat steady, just a few repairs here and there and replacing of parts, you know the usual." he said before taking a drink of his coffee, what the barkeep didn't know is that Quin was a day out from leaving town for a couple weeks, on a trip to go to Oak Hollow, he wanted to find some mercenary work since he couldn't ever get a decent amount out of whatever came through Tildwing. Quin took a long drink, sighing briefly before he pulled a sketchbook from inside his jacket along with a pencil, he started sketching out some parts for one of his many projects.

((Hopefully this will bring us together... :3 )

Cicero sat down at the counter. He rested his chin in the palm of his hand, bored. He tapped his fingers on the counter. Is this what people do at a bar? Just drink and sit there? Cicero took a glass of water, drank a few gulps, then glanced around. This was... boring. As boring as the forest he had retreated from.

Cicero sighed, took off the black glove off of his left hand, and got out his ebony dagger with his right. He took a deep breath, and began to play that game when you stab the knife between your fingers really fast. I dunno what it's called, so yeah. The jester grinned maliciously. "Chop, chop, chop, chop..."  Soon enough, he got people's attention. First, a group of three stopped walking beside him, and began to watch.
"75 bucks if he gets to 20!"
"85 if he gets to 30."
At the sound of betting, a few more people began to surround Cicero. As he surpassed 30 without stabbing his hand, the bets got higher, into the hundreds. A few fellows must have assumed he was playing for money, because some set down gold coins and dollars beside him.

(It's the knife game, Cicero)

Yuuki happened to be passing by on a job. Having just finished, and on her way to collect her prize, she decided to stop at a nearby bar and relax. And since I don't known what else to put, she pushed open the doors and walked in to immediately see a large crowd surrounding a guy in some sort of jester outfit, while playing the knife game. Making sure that her mask was off and her cloak was still wrapped around her, she made her way over, and pushed her way to the front of the crowd, watching the jester with grudging respect. "Not bad, clown. How high can you really go?"

I listened in on as they talked a bit more, glancing over at his sketchbook when he brought it out. The sound of a crowd and betting lured me to know what was going on. The jester, the one from earlier, seemed to have drawn a crowd around himself. I was about to walk over when I recognized one of the crowd members, Yuuki. It probably wasn't unusual for her to be at a bar but I rarely do. Either way, it shouldn't matter, but I stayed and took another sip of my water, as if acting like I didn't give two thoughts about the crowd.

Quindaro looked up from the book, hearing all the commotion a few seats down. A small crowd had formed around a man that was dressed as a jester. "Hmm... impressive." he said before observing all the spectators, spotting a few that weren't regulars here at the pub, "Eh, the fools are ones who draw the most attention to themselves." he scoffed under his breath, so that not many could hear it. shaking his head he looked over to the barkeep, "That steak is sure smelling good!" he said with a wide smile, "Yep, it's the house special, that's for sure!" he said half watching the man with the knife racking up a streak, higher than he's seen in a while. Quin, nodded and went back to his sketchbook, his pencil moving across the paper with extreme precision.

Cicero's hazelish-auburn gaze travelled up from his hand and knife to the one who had spoken to him. She was a teenage girl, and Cicero's instincts instantly told him that this was one to respect. There was something about her that he had detected... a commanding presence, let's say. His heart raced in excitement as the thought of this girl being the Beyond's Listener came into his mind. The last time he had met a Listener was back in Skyrim, which was long ago. Cicero tore his gaze from the teenager and it returned to his little game, and at her question he sped up the stabs of his ebony knife. He had just reached 84, and decided to risk his game to speak to the girl. He had always had issues multitasking, but he said, "The clown has a name. Cicero, the Fool of Hearts."

Hunter touched down on the roof of a local bar searching for his latest target. He didn't see any hints of the white cloaked man he was tasked to find and kill. He sighed. "Yet another target escapes my grasp." he said swearing under his breath. He vaulted over the roof's railing and dropped onto the concrete sidewalk in front of the bar. Hunter hid his wings and turned around. Opening the door he walked into the bar. the faint smell of alcohol hitting his sensitive nose like a small gust of wind.

Pulling his hat over his eyes he walked up to the bar and sat down.