The Village Inn Pub & B&B - Open Thread, All Welcome

[EuphoricDysphoria]

In a bustling and picturesque rural town you will find this popular pub, serving traditional British fayre and offering bed and breakfast accommodation. Buy a drink, cosy up, have a meal or book a room for two or more to play in.

http://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/02/7f/b5/8f/jubilee-weekend.jpg

Bar

https://www.theimagefile.com/v/tp/112/254/645329_4_angel-in-the-fields-pub-bar.jpg

A little addition for chronicle_tenko

http://www.thetannersarms.com/images/layout/tanners-widescreen-tv.jpg

Dining Room

http://slatedesign.net/hawkley/images/interior2.jpg

Fireplace

http://theolivetreesuttongreen.com/images/olive-tree-pub-restaurant-guildford-fireplace.jpg

Beer Garden

http://www.thethreetunspub.com/assets/garden.jpg

Bedrooms

http://static.guim.co.uk/sys-images/Travel/Pix/pictures/2011/2/15/1297785037763/Crown-Inn-bedroom-007.jpg

Portia's Nook
Where I can be found reading or working on posts, often with a glass of wine.

http://s3.favim.com/orig/40/books-bookshelf-color-photography-room-Favim.com-334582.jpg



http://www.thebadgecentre.co.uk/images/detailed/2/royal-crown-congratulations-maam.png​

 

[EuphoricDysphoria]

My SRP Threads

For the Greater Good ~ with Marauder13. In a future setting where enhancement of DN determines a person's social status, Sebastien is breeding a pack of super-soldiers to keep oppressed 'natural' humans in check. Zephyr Blake is about to become instrumental in maximising their potential, serving as a release to a band highly aggressive 'enhanced' law enforcement with a feral, pack mentality.

That the World Looks ~ With Braschi. Game of Thrones inspired setting with a young virgin damsel who's about to find herself in distress.

Making a Millionaire ~ with patrick1 A bored and rich businessman decides to put some of his cash to work, corrupting one of his employees. What would you be persuaded do for £1 million?

Kracken's Storm ~ with Nordican. A Game of Thrones setting centred on house Greyjoy and the Iron Islands.

Forsaken ~ With Scuttle Buttin' Young Lara is about to meet her favourite rock star and we all know that you should never meet your idols. She's about to get sucked into his vortex of hedonism and for Lara, there's no way out.

 

[EuphoricDysphoria]

Ideas and Cravings

Last Updated: 18th July 2012

Chattel ~ Radicalise me baby

A young girl from a devoutly Muslim Pakistani family has grown up native to the UK, in a liberated and permissive society. She has finished her A-Levels when many girls she knows have been forced to drop out of school at 16 in order to be married to older men. She therefore dares to dream that her own parents understand the kind of opportunities England can offer, that she can be more than just a spouse and mother. When she excitedly starts applying to universities however, her parents realise they have been too long silent on the subject of her future. In short order, she finds herself in Pakistan, married to a total stranger who she's told is a distant cousin of some kind, who has business connections that my character's father wants to cement. My character finds herself in a devoutly Muslim community, where husbands have the absolute right to beat and fuck errant brides into submission. My character will have little to no Pakistani, so the language will be a chasm between them to start with. Your character will speak English but will simply choose not to do so, to force his new wife to learn swiftly. After a honeymoon period in Pakistan, the happy couple travel to visit my character's family in the UK, where they will be thrilled at the demure, deference my character shows you, not knowing it's born of abject terror. Your character will then have the choice of whether to return to Pakistan or relocate permanently to the UK, thanks to the visa your British born wife entitles you to.

For this one I'm seeking someone who will develop little to no emotional connection to my character. You will have been raised all your life to the knowledge that marriage is about cementing family ties, about dowries, honour and respect, not love. You'll also have been raised a total chauvinist, waited on hand and foot by the women in your family and you'll expect no less from your wife. You will consider her to naturally be of a lower intelligence, in the same way that she's naturally weaker than you. You will also believe the Koran's teachings that women are inherently sinful and will become insanely jealous if your wife should be found alone in a room with a male, or with her hair uncovered anywhere but inside the house, when no other male is there.

You'll be older than my character by 15 years or more. You cast your first wife aside because she was barren and are free to marry again. You will be a callous and capricious sadist, who gets a huge kick out of beating, raping and terrorising your new hot young wife. Luckily for you, traditional Muslim dress conceals her cuts and bruises. She's is nothing more to you than a trophy, a slave and an outlet. Oh and a brood mare. You want sons and not even Allah will be able to help the bitch if she fails to conceive or gives you daughters. I'm looking for systematic emotional abuse in this RP, totally decimating her self esteem. I'm also seeking violent reprisals if she tries to escape, to contact her family in the UK or otherwise defies you.

For extra shits & giggles, if you want your character to be a radicalised Muslim with plans to detonate half of London then have at it, I'm quite obviously not going to be in the driving seat on this one.

Dexter

Just started watching series 1 and I absolutely love this show. I'm thinking it would be lots of fun to RP opposite a Dexter-esque character. Maybe a man who's trying to curb his urge to kill, a man who seeks out a masochist who can handle the level of abuse he needs to dish out. This would require you to play a highly intelligent sociopath capable of insightful and callous verbal humiliation and emotional abuse. Someone who relishes bloodplay, cutting, punching, kicking and even torturing. I also think near-death fun could be had with this premise, maybe strangling my character till she blacks out, convinced she's going to die, only to kick her awake, patch her up and charm your way back into her good graces until you can't suppress the urge to do it all over again. This would be a toxic, highly charged relationship with my character addicted to her abject fear of you, knowing that if she runs away you'll kill her before you risk her going to the police. There's only one way out for her and that's to die slowly at your hands.

Doctor Who

Not really interested in the good doctor himself because he's just too cute and fluffy. What I do fancy is being seduced and then abused by The Master, dragged along with his plans to seize power and wealth on Earth and rid himself of the pesky doctor. I love John Simm's charismatic and psycho Master character.

Life On Mars

I loved this series and really like the idea of a character thrust into a different time period, not knowing whether the world she can see is real or the future she remembers coming from.

In Time ~ Justin Timberlake film

Welcome to a world where time has become the ultimate currency. You stop aging at 25, but there's a catch: you're genetically-engineered to live only one more year, unless you can buy your way out of it. The rich "earn" decades at a time (remaining at age 25), becoming essentially immortal, while the rest beg, borrow or steal enough hours to make it through the day. When a man from the wrong side of the tracks is falsely accused of murder, he is forced to go on the run with a beautiful hostage. Living minute to minute, the duo's love becomes a powerful tool in their war against the system.

I like the idea of a dominant sadist using time as a way to torture a girl he picks up on a trip into the poorest sector of the city, where people are lucky to earn enough time to live to see the next day. I don't have a concrete idea for this yet but I like the setting.

Gangbang

http://27.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lfvd9pdusU1qefr66o1_500.jpg

Really want to write something that involves my character getting gangfucked and passed around. Maybe the victim of a street or biker gang initiation. Maybe soldiers interrogating/abusing a woman for political or religious reasons. Maybe a duped and trafficked whore. Perhaps a Roman slave. I'm basically looking for a scenario where my character becomes a communal cumdump and the subject of systematic degradation and violent abuse.

 

[EuphoricDysphoria]

reserved

 

[EuphoricDysphoria]

Wanders in, nodding to my newest employee, who swiftly attempts to look busy. I grab a bottle of merlot and head to my little nook, deviant mind brimming with post ideas. I keep one eye on the bar, hoping to get some custom tonight.

She reached in and grabbed two bottles, then thought better and put one back, they had to be able to walk in the morning after all. There was little else in there but bottles and a few luxury food stuffs that she ignored for now. She kicked the door closed behind her, grinned daringly at the scandalized serving lady and made her way out of the kitchen door. She could hear them talking about a drinking game. She knew that they might not be quite as comfortable with her as they would be with the others, she was straight after the director and it seemed she had not made the best impression on the crew.

A mischievous look on her face, she snatched the cigar from Rylee's lips, "I'm afraid your not allowed that. Didn't anyone tell you the Captain has the first pull?"

As she spoke she put the bottle down on the bar and slid them along the polished surface. As they came to a halt it became obvious what they were. It was a tall bottle, thin, with an even longer and thinner neck, the label was a swirling holographic design, psychedelic images floating back and forth across the front of the bottle. Moonside absinthe, the stuff was as legendary as it was lethal, but Ellen had quite happily abused her Captain's expenses to get her hands on a dozen bottles of the stuff, she'd once downed a whole bottle in the officers mess. She hadn't been able to walk for a week. It was as close to pure alcohol as it was possible to go without poisoning yourself, 98%. There was a challenge in her voice as the bottle slid to a halt on the bar. "Will this stake me?"

Hmmm... how shall my Rylee react?

I turn on my notebook and pour myself a large glass of wine while it boots up. My restless fingers soon get to work on a suitable reply.

 

[chronicle_tenko]

Proper Pint?

Dark, Bitter, and just a bit warm. And do you do food?

 

[EuphoricDysphoria]

Proper Pint?

Dark, Bitter, and just a bit warm. And do you do food?

My barmaid, Rhian, pours a pint of dark mild and hastens over with it. We don't routinely do waitress service but since there's only one customer she's hardly over-worked.

"We'll have a menu put together soon, once we hire a chef. Tonight I can offer bar snacks - cheesy chips, home made scotch eggs, home made hand fried crisps or a slice of home made pork lattice pie."

I smile and wave at the newcomer, approving of his choice of tipple.

 

[chronicle_tenko]

Tipping generously, and without undue gropes, leaving eight pounds on the table, and urging her to keep the change. Smiling graciously as I know I could use this.

"My compliments, and I'll take an order of scotch eggs then. With a grain mustard for dip if you have it. Hot mustard otherwise. Something wrong with eating sausage, egg, and crumbs without mustard."

This seems like my kind of Pub. A little quiet, a bit friendly, and with the right kind of mellow atmosphere. A place to watch Arsenal wail on Chelsea. A good place.

How long have you been open? I just noticed the pub.

 

[EuphoricDysphoria]

The girl glances at me and it's clear I don't want the guy to know he's the first person to wander in since I took this old place over.

"I couldn't say how long the pub has been trading, but it's now under new management." She replies, before heading off to the kitchen.

A short while later she presents him with home made beef scotch eggs, together with the grain mustard he asked for.

"Enjoy your meal, let me know if there's anything else I can get for you."

 

[chronicle_tenko]

"I certainly shall."

Taking a quick bite of Hot deep fried beef egg and bread, and needing to make that face that says what is in my mouth is far too hot to eat comfortably, but far too delicious to stop.

Mmm "These are really good."

"So what persuades you to open a Pub here on the Lounge? I work for the competition, but I must tell you, Normally I'm not a club person. This is usually more my speed. "

 

[EuphoricDysphoria]

I answer myself this time, letting Rhian focus on being decorative.

"I was going to just have an ideas thread and I liked the idea of having a pub as a personal nook, rather than a cottage or whatever. Then it occurred to me that I'd much rather enjoy a place where people could stop by and chat and that giving them an easily identifiable setting to play with would encourage people to wander in. After that it was a small matter of liberating a pub from the real world and relocating it here, Wizard of Oz style. I'm glad you like it. What's the competition?"

 

[chronicle_tenko]

"Mmm a few places. But I work for Lily's After hours. Kind of an informal club. Booth seating, old feel, full kitchen, Hot tub and karaoke. Stockroom for the naughtier things to happen in."

Chewing thoughtfully at the last of my meal, licking a daub of mustard from my finger.

"Not the same feel at all, but good for my work. Though with that new telly this could quickly become a haunt of mine. I have been looking for a good pub since the Bad Apple closed.

 

[EuphoricDysphoria]

"Glad to hear it. This landlady is functioning on GMT however so it's past my bedtime I'm afraid. Rhian will happily see to anything you need."

Smiles and closes the door to my nook, secluding me. I get into my little bunk, close the curtains and sip another glass of wine, while I read some stories written by a potential new acquaintance and touch myself gently. Sleep will soon come once I have.

 

[EuphoricDysphoria]

settles self at the bar with a vodka redbull and boots up my notebook. crosses to the window while the notebook wakes up and throws it open. the air is warm and close, there's a thunderstorm brewing. watches the cat slink in and settle on the stool beside me, it's too hot for him to be remotely interested in my lap.

Looks like I'm behind on my threads. I inform him, stroking his soft black fur and scratching behind his ears

 

[Light Ice]

His presence is seldom a welcome one.

For the sharp lay of his jacket, thin-lapeled and a rakish light tan linen, and the obvious attention to style paid in the shirt and tie beneath, it seems strange. That said, he cuts past other patrons without traditional greetings or any hint of warmth. The bartender is treated politely but neatly cut off from any small talk. His attention, almost entirely, sits on the Bombay he's ordered and a nearby television.

That, of course, and Euphoric. She draws his attentions, masculine as they are.

 

[EuphoricDysphoria]

glances up as someone new comes in. I nod politely at him but no more than that, he's not a man who visits the pub to socialise. Instead I turn back to the cat and pet him, checking out Mr Mysterious in my peripheral vision. His silent broodiness draws me more than his looks or style, sucker as I am for a bad boy.

After a long moment, I turn back to my monitor and get to work on a post for Kracken's Storm.

 

[Light Ice]

He lets his eyes roam more boldly once hers slip to her monitor. The shape of her beneath her clothes, gentle curves running fluid lines as she reclines. It's almost ruined entirely by the animal on her lap. He's not a fan of cats. He's never been, really, but an unfortunate run-in with one sealed things. It seems fateful, really, given the fact he's allergic. Their dander is a bear.

Still, she's alone. Like him.

That's attractive enough when you're around a beautiful girl. Men were born that way and it couldn't be helped. The rest was all semantics. Too many, in his opinion, got caught up in the wild hysteria of feelings. Everything, even the most hallucinatory, boiled down to the primitive reality of the human experience.

"Noisy place to write." He comments.

But his eyes don't lie as to his motives. He's watching her. He lets her see it this time.

 

[EuphoricDysphoria]

His deep voice jolts me out of my writing reverie, bringing me back from George R R Martin's Iron Islands. Has he seen what I'm writing? It's all innocent enough at this stage in the thread but soon things between the protagonists will heat up. His eyes snare me, they have depth but not emotion, hallmark of a sociopath. I bite my bottom lip at that notion, feeling his gaze on me like a physical caress.

"I'm used to it." I reply, pulling my face into something approaching a smile. "I just tune out all the static. Noisy place to seek out in order to be alone." I counter.

 

[Light Ice]

Her words mark her as a thoughtful sort. He's known a few. They come from many walks and develop into many ilks. People, in so many ways, were strange and wonderful creatures. She's uncomfortable, or in the very least wary. It's not an uncommon reaction. He has that way about him. There's no mistaking it. He's as subtle as a brick to the face and there's no sense in pretending otherwise. There's inherent complications that come with it. They are numerous but he accepts them with what little grace he's been able to develop.

The rest is a boon to him, or so he feels. She might pick up on it in the way he looks at her, unwavering and unabashed, and in how little her reactions play upon the nature of his approach.

"Do you mean thoughts when you refer to static? Is your mind busy?" He likes philosophy. It's intellectually soothing to speak of it. She's peaked his interest by allowing him the question.

The dialogue has taken a fun inclination. A sudden turn. His eyes drop briefly to the cat, loathing it already. Like so many things he doesn't entirely hide it. Doesn't announce it, either, in his manner or his features. Impassive. Intense. It is a consequence of birth and one he's not been able to help. He was born with hazel eyes and while most were soft his were not. His features are sharply masculine, squared at the jaw and chin, but the rest are prominently anglo. It'd be a boring correction if not for the structure of his face. Sand-blond hair. He'd once wished it was dark when he was younger.

But he gave up on being classically handsome early in life. It came with a certain pride in being so hard-featured. Grim, almost, in his look.

 

[EuphoricDysphoria]

"Do you mean thoughts when you refer to static? Is your mind busy?"

His unwavering gaze is perceptive, this man is no fool. I politely close the lid of my notebook and give him my full attention.

"By static I was referring to the background noise here but my mind is always busy."

I let the implication hang in the air, not dressing it up as an innuendo but not veiling it either. His eyes drop to the cat and it's clear he's not enamoured of the creatures. Without giving it a conscious thought, I gently lift the cat and drop him to the floor. He stretches and stalks off in high dudgeon but then he does that on the slightest pretext.

It's only afterwards I realise what I've given away, my pathological inability to refuse anything to a man whom I've handed control to. The starkness of his features and expressions makes him compelling to me but I've been wrong before. Outward displays of alphaness from men can hide a core as cute and fluffy as my cat, with fewer claws.

I lift my glass and Rhian hastens to refill it. I'm not one for slitting my own throat when it comes to profit but this guy has captivated me and he's not been of a mind to chat before.

"What will you have?"

 

[Light Ice]

The implications linger. He sorts through them, quickly, with typical assertions made in the immediate of an instant. There are elements of humanity that have always, in some small way, truly baffled him. They form a laundry list of qualities and interests that are so radically different from his own that, in the end, they are as alien as they are numerous. He knows others, though, that run more base of kind. Trembling, subtle chords of the primitive are what have always enticed him.

"Water, please." His manners are crisp and effortless. He does not drink caffeine.

But for all his intelligence there are other elements that he cannot notice. He is, either through inexperience or the base quality of his instinct, not entirely perceptive. There is a brutish aspect to him that has always been and always will be. It lurks beneath the surface, always, and marks him a scoundrel to the world at large. She'd take note in the way his position changed along the bar.

A ripple of movement.

Lean, prominent muscle. Smooth skin. A sinuous, serpent-like quickness.

His face is lupine, long and brutally masculine. The jawline squared. His chin blocked. His nose is prominent and his eyes are muted in their gentle hazel and intense in their interest. There are few that would call him pretty.

But he's not much for pretty.

"What fancies busy your mind?" He asks.

And waits.

A part of him coiling. Waiting. Ready.

 

[Ikely]

Ike, opens the front door and eases in.

"Wow, What a great place to find."

Wondering if the have a room for a weary traveler. I sure could use one.

 

[EuphoricDysphoria]

The implications linger. He sorts through them, quickly, with typical assertions made in the immediate of an instant. There are elements of humanity that have always, in some small way, truly baffled him. They form a laundry list of qualities and interests that are so radically different from his own that, in the end, they are as alien as they are numerous. He knows others, though, that run more base of kind. Trembling, subtle chords of the primitive are what have always enticed him.

"Water, please." His manners are crisp and effortless. He does not drink caffeine.

But for all his intelligence there are other elements that he cannot notice. He is, either through inexperience or the base quality of his instinct, not entirely perceptive. There is a brutish aspect to him that has always been and always will be. It lurks beneath the surface, always, and marks him a scoundrel to the world at large. She'd take note in the way his position changed along the bar.

A ripple of movement.

Lean, prominent muscle. Smooth skin. A sinuous, serpent-like quickness.

His face is lupine, long and brutally masculine. The jawline squared. His chin blocked. His nose is prominent and his eyes are muted in their gentle hazel and intense in their interest. There are few that would call him pretty.

But he's not much for pretty.

"What fancies busy your mind?" He asks.

And waits.

A part of him coiling. Waiting. Ready.

I nod to Rhian and she returns swiftly enough with iced mineral water, into which she has tossed a couple of slices of fresh lime.

"What fancies busy your mind?" It should be an innocent enough query but my mind is not exactly a PG13 place to be.

"I write erotica." I reply simply. "Mostly for my own amusement. I love creative writing and exploring my fantasies gives it a definite edge."

I feel the dual hit of the vodka and caffeine hit my veins, warning myself not to be reckless. Don't shit where you eat. This is my workplace and more than the occasional dalliance will swiftly earn me quite the reputation. Respect is really the only thing keeping my customers in check... that and the police radio clipped to the hip of my low slung jeans.

"Quid pro quo Clarice." I tease. "What have you been so deep in thought about?"

 

[EuphoricDysphoria]

Ike, opens the front door and eases in.

"Wow, What a great place to find."

Wondering if the have a room for a weary traveler. I sure could use one.

Hi Ike

It's been quiet here for a while because I've not been about but there are plenty of vacant rooms upstairs if you need somewhere to hang your hat. Please see Rhian at the bar, she'll book you in.

 

[Vail_Indigo]

hop
....hophop
........hop