Bric-a-brac and forgotten implements make up the majority of Finnegan's Bluff Public House. A lesson in liminal spaces, Finnegan's Bluff is a cheat of magic. A zone which makes use of forgotten or unwanted things.
The centre of the Mystic Realms, Finnegan's Bluff is both firmly situated at the Axis Mundi and a place nigh infinite in locations. All one must do is find the right space, the right door and boom. Instant entry into the world's longest running party.
Whatever space within the Realms lies forgotten or under-utilized can spiritually migrate into Finnegan's Bluff, or attach itself to the confounding passages of the Pub.
The drinks flow, the food comes cooked and set in bowls, and people with nowhere else to go end up eventually in one of the alcoves, until they figure themselves out.
A place to drink, be frivolous, dance and pass through, Finnegan's Bluff is the eternal party spot. Meant as the transitional space between Realms, the Bluff is the easiest method of transportation between Realms.
Why spend months trotting across the Rainbow Road along a perilous trek to reach Midgard, when one can knock on the right door, have a pint then tap their way through another?
Finnegan's Doors
Around the central tree of the Axis Mundi, there is a circle of lintel and post portals crafted of stone older than the Creatrix's first words to the Cosmos. Each portal became the instigation point of the Realms, disparate and distant.
Concentric circle upon circle of doors.
Finnegan alone is the keeper of the doors. Many posit Finnegan creates entries between worlds and places, or the Fae is some sort of wormhole-savant. Theories as to the nature of Finnegan and the doors are as numerous as the broken-item stools which emanate forth whenever someone else needs to sit down.
There are countless entries into Finnegan's Bluff, all ruled over by their one Master. It is at Finnegan's leisure any in the Realms travel at all through something as simple as doors.
This reinforces the one rule of Finnegan's Bluff. Do not anger Finnegan.
While Finnegan's Bluff at any one moment is populated by potential billions of souls, the swell of the population is in temporary placement. It's the drink or the party or the dance. The quiet meal or hastily procured sandwich before a flight.
Permanence is a falsehood. There are no permanent denizens of Finnegan's Bluff.
None but Finnegan.
All else, all others are temporary lodgers.
Forgotten umbrellas, old rickety chairs with one leg too short, cardboard containers left beside bins. These are the contents of Finnegan's Bluff. The forgotten and unused things, the coat in the back of the closet, which is far too small or too big to be worn, the furnishings left behind when a business closes, all such unused things become part of Finnegan's Bluff eventually. Whether for an eon, or a blink.
The largest hazard of Finnegan's Bluff is the nature of its ever undulating form. Never the same day to day, the place is in constant flux. One cannot find that one spot they saw before with any confidence it will still exist. Thus, there is no map, no central point.
It is a lesson in letting the swell of the present take one where it may.
Anything else is at the whim of Finnegan's mind.
Utter Neutrality.
Anything goes, as long as it doesn't break Finnegan's rules. The most substantial rule is this: Do not be a douche.
The Bluff is one large alteration in an ever shifting pattern.
The Bluff is a mixture of architectural styles, each which morph into the next at different nodes, alcoves, halls and dance floors. Mead Hall to Japanese tea room, mirrored ballroom to derelict Irish pub with the scent of the sea pouring through thin rickety walls, the Bluff is all spaces left behind or untended.
All liminal spaces and none.
It is a place where architectural planning has never gone, and the only cohesive connection to any sort of plan is directly correlated to Finnegan's doors.
At the end of
The Mystic War, Finnegan rose to take command of the Axis Mundi with his unique
Fae skill to open and shut the doors. Maybe out of boredom, or necessity, Finnegan began to serve drinks around the Axis Mundi. Then, a meal or two.
Eventually, a series of forgotten spaces piqued up from the bric-a-brac to create the furnishings around the liminal world.
It didn't take long for Finnegan to hire a ghost to tend the bar, one who could be everywhere at once. And then, well, if people wanted to party... Finnegan needed something to keep him occupied.
The most travelled space in the Cosmos, Finnegan's Bluff is transportation hub and party place. Folk end up sleeping where they find alcoves and space to bunk down, the same way others might catch an hour or two at an airport.
All roads at one point and geographical location lead to Rome.
All doors lead to Finnegan's Bluff.
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