I think it might be good to go. Whole server host died permanently. Migration required upgrades and code changes.
Located 20 minutes outside the Necropolis, MO, city limits. Situated on the shores of Lake Smithville, Shadows Bar has gotten quite the reputation and the locals have dubbed it as a place that "caters to the strange and unusual." All denizens of the World of Darkness are welcome here.There are 0 people here The most recent statement was made about 681 hours ago.
Vic Tannenbaum, Eiluned Private Eye: *Enters*
: this is a test
: tsting
Vlad: FU!
Beesus Fufoon: *Enters*
: *Peeks*
Son of Magnell: *Were a security camera running, and were one to pull the footage, one might see a child in a black leather jacket and blue jeans slip into the empty bar. He walks slowly around the room, his footsteps echoing in the silence. He traces his fingers along the countertop, and stops to look at old, yellowed scraps of paper a bulletin board. He moves unhurriedly, his movements languid, almost wistful. His gaze is far away.*
Son of Magnell: *He takes a seat at the bar and stares emptily into space, lost in thought. After a time, he walks to the center of the room and, after a furtive glance around the room, leaps easily into the rafters. He clears away cobwebs and runs his fingers lovingly over long disregarded letters, crudely carved in the wood. He sits, silent, in the darkness, breathing in the dust and hearing the long-gone voices of old friends in the silence*
Son of Magnell: *With a thud, his motorcycle boots, outdated and in a 90s style, worn and falling apart, strike the floorboards and he strolls out onto the back deck.*
Gross: OOC: Is this still the worst color ever?
Bob: *casually strolls in and occupies a corner table, pulls a pad of paper from one of his many pockets, and begins to doodle*
Besus Fufoon: *Enters*
Besus Fufoon: *Enters*