[It's funny. I don't RP any more, but I read this today just as I found myself in a writing mood. I thought the introduction was an extremely inviting and enticing read. I'll add my two cents in, for fun, and to see if I still possess the power of the pen.]
It was understood, by This One, that the figure to his right spoke to no one. At this place, where time immemorial lusts for unison with space; where the universe stews in amalgum with silky eternities layered thinly, delicately across one another; where each breath is breathless, and every thought a sin and a blessing together; where good and evil but misconceptions, a euphemism for life's timeless ignorance--
It was understood, by This One, that the figure spoke to no one, and at the same time, everyone. It was not only This One who sat betwixt the waning voices inside of the bar, but all who have existed and ever will exist. This One stretched his cloaked head 30 degrees to his left. He felt the sinew of the right side of his neck tighten and bristle until the dense popping sound resonated in his collar. He did this again, this time to the right. Another pop loosened the musculature of his neck, summoning a warming sensation at the inner tips of his shoulders. It splashed at his upper body, and like a red paint, embraced him; coated him in its shallow warmth.
This One silently placed both hands on the bar. They too, like the rest of his figure, were cloaked; black leather gloves enveloped both of his hands, the shaft of both gloves disappearing into the sleeves of This One's cloak. Finally, as if cracking through stone and ice, as if unsettling the entirety of time and space, he opened his lips, and spoke:
"I seek the Calamity," were his words.
The voices inside the bar wisped through the air, like spirits. They exist, yet they do not. Each booming conversation, each whispered secret: they cannot live, yet they cannot die. Carried through this realm of specter's dealings and phantom conversations were This One's four calm, precise words. Though spoken in such a collected manner, these words filled the room, strangling every other sound until all other words had been successfully suffocated, and at the conclusion of This One's sentence, the bar fell silent.