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Blackb1rd

The Romp Bar

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Blackb1rd

Free communication! :D

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Olloch

Attention Escapers: Please use Romp Bar for in character communication.

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Olloch

Scratched into a table in the corner you see a message that reads...

"Tarkov is a dangerous place, consider grouping up with friends or strangers you can trust before venturing out. Lest you become one of the many casualties of this place"

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d0gday

Drawing deeply on his cigarette, Artyom looks around the bar before pinning a small piece of paper to the notice board by the door.
On it, the message:

'Any groups looking for an experienced scout?'.

Below this he writes the radio frequency he's using this week before stubbing out his cigarette and heading back to his hideout.

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JoizzY123

Another day flew by and JoizzY found himself in the Romp Bar. He just wants to take his mind off of things for a while, at least this night. He is sitting the table in the far corner at the window. Siping on his drink now and then.

"Man, how did this all happen?" he is saying to himself, reviewing the last action loaded weeks and months in his mind. While watching out of the window, he rubs over the wood of the table with his left hand. When he starts to look down, he promptly starts reading.

The moment he was done reading, he suddenly has the feeling of being watched. As he looks around slowly, he doesn't see any suspicious people in the bar. It's just a local called "Frank" and the bartender. And Frank is here everyday...

He is starting to think: "Maybe this takes me somewhere".

He starts to write the following information on a piece of paper:

"If there is any group out there, looking for an educated paramedic / scout, I could help."

He quickly writes down the radio frequency he is using till later this week below his written message.

He finishes his drink in one sip, stands up and goes straight to the bartender. He is the only trustworthy man in this area. At least that's what he has been told. He whispers some words in the bartender's ear and hands over his piece of paper.

The bartender looks at him, gives him a quick smile and nods. He understands. JoizzY feels somehow relieved and takes a deep breath.

"Alright then, let's see what is coming next.", he says in his mind a leaves the bar.

 

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Olloch

A message is pinned on the notice board...

"New groups are forming to head into the city in search of wealth and opportunity. Some Escapers are returning from Tarkov with stories from the city. Being in a group increases your odds of success. Best of luck out there."

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TheWay

A man walks into a bar, takes a sit near the bartender and orders something that looks like a whisky, then he says aloud:

"So, I heard that you can find here someone he is willing to go back to the city, so who is?"

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Giamiester

*You see a man sitting in the corner of the bar*

"Anyone have a group? Im looking to see my way outa this place, im all good to go, its just the guards wont let me pass without buddies."

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Oranje

While minding your own business, you see a notice on the board, where you are quite certain it was not there even a few minutes ago, yet you are fairly sure you didn't see anyone go anywhere close to it during that time.

 

It reads; "Scout in search of work, have a preference for the color blue, put an X on the trash can in front of the bar, i will be in contact."

 

Huh, you think, someone who enjoys his anonymity.

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infz

Entering the warm bar his glasses fog up and he stubs his toe on the side of the table almost spilling someones beer. He stands up straight after cleaning his glasses and says aloud:

"Drinks on me to whoever's willing to let a S.T.A.L.K.E.R. join their group heading in to Tarkov."

After that he takes a seat at one of the tables to enjoy his beer because it might be his last one.

 

Edited by infz

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d0gday

Artyom enters the bar, one of the few freeholds left in the city not run by scavs of some fat merchant playing warlord.

It's dingy, and rough, but warm and welcoming enough for a man down on his luck. He approaches the bar and asks for vodka. The bartender pulls out a relatively clean glass from below the counter, pours a generous helping of vodka into it, and slides it across the bar to Artyom, who catches it. He lifts the glass to take a sip and notices a small piece of folded paper under the glass. He picks it up and looks at the bartender who simply nods. 

Unfolding the paper Artyom can see it's a message. An experienced paramedic looking for a group to enter the city with. Coming from a medical background himself, he knows the importance of good first aid. He puts the piece of paper in his breast pocket and nods to the bartender and begins to sip his drink.

The door swings open and a man walks in and bumps into a table before taking off his glasses to clean them. 

"Drinks on me to whoever's willing to let a S.T.A.L.K.E.R. join their group heading in to Tarkov", he shouts.

Artyom smiles, finishes his drink, and kicks out the bar stool next to him.

"You've come to the right place then, friend." he says to the newcomer. "Now, about that drink..."

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FatherFenrir

You would see a man enter, travel bag roped over his shoulder, covered in a lightweight dark colored denim jacket. A tarnished hammer looking pendant on the lowest part of a round and short chain. A lightly bearded face and a head with shaved sides in a wide mohawk type fashion, hair, not short but not too long either. He looks around, taking in the surroundings and overall atmosphere of the bar. A look of relief briefly flashes over his face as he realizes that he possibly has found an establishment he could have a refreshing drink at.

Spotting an open seat close to the bar, he approaches it and proceeds to sit and also take the bag from his shoulder placing in near his front right side at his feet in unison. He reaches into his front pocket for currency, pulling out a decent stack of Rubles. Making it pretty obvious he has no experience in dealing with the local currency. Counting an amount several times then placing it on the table in front of him in hopes procure a beer of any kind as long as it seems to be cold. 

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KryoHawk

A man walks into the bar, he appears to carefully scan to determine whether it would be safe enough to hang out around. He pulls his bag a little closer and walks to the area where two guys are talking. (He hears one tell the other "You've come to the right place then, friend. Now, about that drink). He perches himself on the back of an empty chair, "I'll take you up on that offer as well if you've got the space." 

(Depending on your response one of the two is my actions proceeding)

  • After seeing the approval of the two, he takes off his bag and places it in front of him, and taking a seat. "I'll pass on the drink though, never know when you might need the cash for something else".
  • Seeing how the two appear to dislike his offer, he slowly backs off and heads into the corner of the room, setting himself into a position as to where no one could sneak up on him.

He reaches into his bag and pulls out an old looking book. Its cover is barely legible and is torn at the edges. He opens the book to one of the first few pages. He scribbles something down and appears to keep a careful ear out for any information that might be of use.

Spoiler

 Useful information

 (Text is information that has been stated in bar up until point of leaving provided my character can hear/understand it)

 
 

 

Edited by KryoHawk
Web page started freaking out D:

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d0gday

Artyom eyes the traveller carefully. He is sitting, keeping his attention on his bag as well as the worn journal he is writing in.

'A scribe of sorts, perhaps.' Artyom thinks to himself. 

"If you can handle yourself in a scrape, I don't see why not. The more the merrier my father used to say." 

He finishes his second drink and gives these two the newly established group's radio frequency.

They seemed like competent men, but could they be trusted? Well, that waited to be seen.

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Dunteon

Dunteon enters the bar
"At least its not the deepest hole ive ever been to" whispers

Finding himself sorrounded by strangers he pushes himself to the notice board

"This should do it" Dunteon said after pinning a small piece of paper saying "Looking 4 group 4 scavenging run, just yell Alabama"

After some minutes standing by the board he decided to sit in a neraby empty table, "guess its just a matter of waiting now" he thought

 

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FatherFenrir

Looking at the notice board on the wall, he has seen many people post little notes on it. Thinking to himself, "I must do something, since they are only letting groups go into the city."

He then takes out a scrap of paper and scribbles something on it with a pen grabbed from his bag. Reaching into his bag once more he pulls out a small photo takes a long look at it but then proceeds to tear it in half. With one half of the picture and the scribbled note, he makes his way to the board. Pinning it together with the picture, one offset from the other so it examined could be read and seen at the same time.

Spoiler

Note reads: Looking for information on man in photo. Or looking for group to go into city. Or both. I am at bar, denim jacket, name is Jack.

The picture: Would be aged, and feature an older man, possibly mid 30's, with brown hair and dark eyes, very fit but not very big. woods in the backdrop with a small bit of what looks like a tent/campsite near the tear of the photo, he would be wearing an outfit hinting at a possible military background. He would be facing the camera with a wide smile and his arm draped over another individual but the torn off portion fails to reveal any other information.

9

He then walks back to his seat places the other half of the torn photo in his pocket and proceeds to order another beer. An overall friendly atmosphere would radiate from his half smile and nods to others that may catch his occasional glances around the room.

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NoisyCosmos

-A lone long hair and beard man, looking like a homeless with a backpack, enters in the bar from the rainning night. He's all wet.

-He goes to the bartender and pay for a cup of spicy hot wine. Rests a while in the chair meanwhile scans the bar interior.

-He goes to the notice board. He is looking for a group. He can`t go outside to Tarkov's streets anymore without a group.

-He takes a look at a broken photo in the notice board. The man in the photo seems known to him; but don't remember at this time @FatherFenrir

-He writes a paper with the "Searching for a group title" and let it rest in the notice board.

-He orders another drink and rests in the chair, waiting for someone who reads the paper in the notice board.

-He leaves the bar close to the sun rising.

Edited by NoisyCosmos

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Insanegame27

A foreigner steps into the bar, sticking close to the edges. He makes his way over to the notice board. Pulling a pin out of some unimportant flyer such that it swung back and forth, he puts the stolen pin into his own sheet and secures it firmly to the noticeboard. If one was to approach his note, it would read "The Angry Mob. Looking for mutual support? Contact Zachary Miller."

The foreigner sat down in a corner of the bar, watching his note. Stubble grew on a young Australian face, causing casual annoyance to the tall man as though it were something he wished gone. Casual camouflage closing adorned him.

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NoisyCosmos

Jules, now known in the bar as "the loner that looks like a poor homeless with a big backpack" enters the bar again. Last visit? Two days ago. Some prying eyes around the bar. He gets close to the bartender. "Spicy hot wine" he says.

After resting for a while in the chair of the table that is in the far corner of the bar, he goes to the notice board to see if his paper "searching for a group" have any answer. And yes, two of them.

  • Saviours group: "We are trying to get things better here. If you are looking for it, ask bartender about 'the old policeman that came from the hospital'".
  • Highrise Corps: "Experienced survivors. We are looking some kind of people. You may fit or not. Ask bartender".

The loner gets back to his chair in the corner's table. He lies on the chair, thinking about it. He does not know which one he may fit in. Saviours look like a good group to fix his past; but Highrise got more experienced survivors.

His hot spicy wine is gone. He makes a sign to the bartender. The bartender comes. Will Jules ask for any of those groups to the bartender?

Edited by NoisyCosmos

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Oranje

The bartender sees a guy approaching the bar, asking for some bottled water.

Sure, i have some, while trying to joke "gotta stay hydrated eh?"

Something bothers him about the stranger, but he cant quite define it.

 

The stranger takes the water, and walks carefree (are those orange colored socks he's wearing?) to a random table, obviously not caring about putting his back to any wall and sits down, obviously expecting company.

 

Then it hits me, this guy came at the bar from the opposite end of the bar of the front entrance, yet i never saw him come in.

I look back at the guy, who's smiling back at me, and did he just wink?

 

Shaken a bit, i go back to polishing my bottles.

 

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moomao

Zhao Zhang was careful not to expose himself to people of the city too much, even before the troubles. In the time of calm he was apart of what the protesters and critics liked to claim was 'TerraGroup's personal private army', and as expected, it didn't win him much favour from the locals. 

There was an exception to made for the Romp Bar though; in times like this the feeling of normalcy was coveted by everyone. Zhao trudged on in and immediately stuck out like a sore thumb; thin, pale, and painfully foreign. Topping it all off was the mother of all scars; from his neck to his and just to the top of his right cheek was a mess of scorched and deeply pockmarked skin. It went deeper below his neckline but was covered by his clothing. As soon as he entered he approached the counter and tapped on it. 

"Beer. Thanks." He wasn't a day drinker but he didn't trust the water as much as he trusted the booze. He didn't need to be battling a fever on top of everything else that was going on. He sat in the middle of bar, not caring too much for sulking in a corner. He figured a fight wouldn't break out here, most places like this have unspoken codes to leave it at the door. He just hoped that meant he wouldn't get dragged out and shot in the alleyway instead.

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Dare808

Dare walks into the bar and sits at a table near a wall where he is able to observe everything and everyone. But everyone can already tell he is new to the area. He gets up and goes to the notice board and places a note that says

"In search for a friendly group to show me the ropes around Tarkov. //Dare808"

He walks back to his chair and takes a sip of some water.

 

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UncleDark

While sitting on the couch in the warehouse, I had a flashback of from about a week or two ago.

*I was sitting in my new favorite hangout, The Romp Bar and enjoying a cup of freshly brewed espresso. "I don't know where he learned to make this, but this bartender is true magician when it comes to good brew." I thinked while enjoying this dark, full and slightly bitter drink. After finishing my drink, I decided to go and order yet another cup. At this point I was devastated as the bartender told me that he was all out of coffee. Even worse was that the only plausible way to get more, was for someone to venture out to tarkov and find some for him. Determined to enjoy yet another cup in the future, I decided to establish the Wanderer's Coffee club. As I was heading out to the zone I tossed a note to the barkeep, and told him to show it to anyone asking for a cup.

 

Spoiler

Note says:

Did you want to enjoy a cup of heavenly nectar, while barkeep has none?

Are you determined to get your cup of coffee no matter the risk?

Can you fight and fend for yourself?

 

If you answer yes to all, and don't shun the danger, head out to the zone and contact me via radio frequency included in this note.
If I deem you worthy for this divine task, I will tell you the coordinates where to meet me.

UncleDark

Wanderer's Coffee club.

May the brew give us strenght and peace of mind.

 

Chuckling to myself due to that note written in a moment of zealotry, I focus back to present and continue maintaining my weapon. While coffee pot full of goodness slowly bubbles on a small gas burner in the middle of the room.

Edited by UncleDark
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SlayerWR

I waltz into the bar, with a pained look on my face. I had just had been shot not so long ago, so that could be the reason why.

A few give me stares, but go back to their drinks, which is typical, because you'd be a fool to care about someone you don't know in Tarkov. 

I walk to the notice board, and leave a note for those who may be interested:

Spoiler

Perhaps when I am more well established, I will begin my business. It will consist of electronic devices, weapon repairs, and maybe even weapons & ammo. I'll see how it goes. 

I have included a radio channel code in this message. For those who are interested, contact me. We can talk business.

Good luck in Tarkov.

I hammer a shot of Vodka and lime, and walk out of the bar almost unnoticed. 

Edited by SlayerWR
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FatherFenrir

The man in denim would get up after waiting for seemingly a painful amount of time. A few days have passed since he arrived and no one was willing to help at this point. Seemingly his time was stretched thin already and he wanted to make something of progress or anywhere for that matter. 

He glances once more around the bar and then walks up to the notice board examining all the notes. After examining it for awhile he turns and rubs his temples in thought and keeps one other hand on his hip. Strolling back to the counter he asks for another beer, he waits till he is handed a sturdy mug with a frothy top, tipping it up, he begins taking in the amber liquid in a tidal wave. Stopping abruptly as it was reaching its halfway mark, he slams the mug on the table in an attempt of gathering attention from the populace of the bar, looking around hoping eyes meet his look.

"Look at us, we all are sitting here just waiting... Don't you think with most of us here they will not let us pass?"

Standing and pacing addressing the room as a whole.

"I don't know what to expect out there, but I have an objective, and I am sure some of you do as well. I will be frank, I don't trust the likes of you with my life, but sticking together will increase our odds. I know I can assure you I am a trustworthy soul, my worth and my word are my honor, and the gods damn a dishonorable soul." 

Drinking the rest of what is left in his mug he gives a final and serious look.

"With that said I give you all a chance to make a swift decision...whoever is with me can follow me out this door... right now."

He finishes as he is throwing his small duffle over his shoulder and begins the walk towards the door.

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