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Post by Dark Beauty on Apr 14, 2007 16:57:46 GMT -8
The tavern was not very friendly-looking, but it was better than the other ones around this side of town. Elijah was rather proud of that. His family was one of the darker, more sinister ones of Jermina, but they still had the brains to make a sturdy building. Elijah pulled out a rag and began to wipe down the counter, muttering verse to himself. The name of the tavern, The Red Dragon, had been his father's idea. Elijah had put the word "Flaggon" in after his father's death. Elijah had always had a soft spot for poetry and rhymes. His family hated that about him, but that was okay. He truly believed that people here needed to have some sort of appreciation to the arts. Some people had called him the Perverted Villan because of his odd quirk... but that could be taken in more ways than one, and was highly offensive; when Elijah was offended, people usually did not live through the day. He sighed and pulled up his trousers, which were sagging slightly on his well-formed body. It did not used to be like that... he had been slightly overweight for quite some time. But that was before he had met a certain woman suddenly had the irresistable urge to look better. He now was not your average bartender. He was muscular and lean-bellied (after a lot of work to get that way), and his scraggly beard had been shaved off except for the tip, leaving a gotee. His hair was black and reaching nearly to his chin. His eyes were a dark green, but usually hidden behind his hair. Actually, he was quite sexy, or so he had been told. Too bad he was not totally devoted to his work at the tavern... he could easily take over the world with charms alone. The tavern was open, and a few people were sitting down at the tables. None looked too friendly, but at least there was no fighting yet. Elijah was sick of cleaning up after fights.
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Post by Zeffa! on Apr 15, 2007 22:24:59 GMT -8
A young scrawny looking man with long red hair wandered in, relativly casual common looking clothes decorated with a bow here and there, and a shiny button or two. Another, more stocky and tall figure entered right after him. The taller man had dark hair, held back in a pony tail, and wore a long crimson jacket, and red-colored darkened lenses. The older figure walked toward the bar, peering at Elijah. "Hey you," he said in a gruff, commanding voice. "you hear of any bounties 'round here?"
The slimmer figure wandered his way to a table, sitting down and looking around the place. "Man, what a dump..." he remarked in a higher, less husky voice.
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Post by Dark Beauty on Apr 16, 2007 9:00:30 GMT -8
Elijah shook his head. "Not that I know of. You might try the gossip-mill across the way. They seem more interested in the goings on than people here."
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Post by Sorrows on Apr 16, 2007 11:43:46 GMT -8
A steady eye watched the two from over the brim of an ale mug, dull gray hues sizing them up, weighing, deciding each's prowess and ability within their first few strides, calculating their origins and ages, their training and styles. It was routine for him, something he couldn't really help doing. He raised an eyebrow when the one at the bar mentioned bounties and he laughed silently to himself. He placed the ale down on the table and leaned back in the shabby chair he sat in. His face would seem young and somewhat handsome, if it wasn't for the scars marking his face, one crossing his left eye, one crossing parallel to his right ear, the other on the lower part of his left jaw. His hair was strikingly crimson and his eyes shined a dull shade of gray. He wore common, if slightly worn breeches and coat, drab gray and brown colors. Also, a piece of cloth lay resting around his neck, a viel it would appear, black and contrasting to the rest of his clothes.
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Post by Zeffa! on Apr 16, 2007 20:19:37 GMT -8
"Hrm, looks like another dryspot," the larger man remarked to the scrawny one in the chair. "Then give us two rounds of the Darkmoon Special,"the large one told Elijah. (( Still creating them, so pardon the introduction of new material. )) The red-haired young man at the table peered around the Tavern, rather dissapointed that there weren't any girls around...yet. "Yeesh, how boring..Nothing around to kill. How long are we gonna stay here?" the younger figure asked, agitation and annoyance clear in his tired voice. The big man only replied with a smirk and took a seat next to his companion.
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Post by Dark Beauty on Apr 17, 2007 8:25:57 GMT -8
((She should walk in with Naburine... I want her around here for character development.))
Elijah nodded at the man's choice and went about the job of getting it for him. "Sorry about the lack of information. I have not cared about that kind of stuff after certain problems had occured in my life when I was working for the darker side of things." He pulled out a tankard and filled it with the brew, pushing toward the man. "As for women, they'll be coming. There's a regular here... name's Captain Naburine Cutlass. She's a real looker, alright, but don't get near her with any ideas. She'll knife you in a split second. I've seen it happen before."
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Post by Zeffa! on Apr 18, 2007 16:59:53 GMT -8
"What'd you do?" The big man asked as he rose to his feet and walked back to the bar, grabbing the tankard and passing it to the red haired little guy. "And the other one..."
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Post by Dark Beauty on Apr 18, 2007 21:19:53 GMT -8
"Working on it," Elijah looked slightly ruffled at the man's impatience as he prepared the other drink, but answered the question. "It was not anything I did. It was a man who thought he could get away with a pat to the behind. He was wrong, and she knifed him when he would not stop trying to play." He finished, putting the other tankard down and looking up at the man. "Believe me, it is not too hard to try to play with her. Captain Cutlass is very flamboyant about her excellent looks. It's almost as if she enjoyes torturing men by giving such a show and then threatening his life when he tries to get near."
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Post by Zeffa! on Apr 18, 2007 22:12:37 GMT -8
"Heh, as exciting as that story is, I meant your own. Who'd you work for? The Cartel? You don't seem like you'd be the type to work for the Blacksun Clan..." remarked the big man, taking the drink kindly.
The scrawny looking one peered over, kicking up his heels on the table and leaning back in his chair. "What's your deal?" the redhead asked the quiet man in the corner who'd been staring at them the entire time.
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Post by Sorrows on Apr 19, 2007 10:26:03 GMT -8
The man's gray eyes narrowed as he was addressed. "I make no deals with treekillers and oathbreakers, wetlander." He never so much as made a move to lower his gaze or take a drink from the ale mug the hung in front of his face. "Just deciding whether I should Dance with you or teach you to Sing." The smirk that crossed his lips suggested that he'd made a joke.
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Post by Zeffa! on Apr 19, 2007 10:34:34 GMT -8
"What? What the heck's your problem..?" he asked rhetorically as he closed his eyes and relxaed in the chair. "Man I'm bored.. Hey brother, we gonna find a job or just gonna wait around all day?"
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Post by Dark Beauty on Apr 19, 2007 10:51:03 GMT -8
Elijah was about to tell his story, but was interrupted by the slimmer man in the chair. "Like I said, you will probably have better luck across the street. They get new jobs every five minutes." He looked expectantly at the bigger man, waiting for the payment due.
At that moment, two women came walking through the door ((Yeah, the other one is yours, Thistle... time to post!)). The one doing the talking seemed irritated about something in her manner of speaking and movement. This woman was obviously Naburine Cutlass. Her well-formed shape was encased in a tight black leather vest that was strung up the middle; basically a corset with the ties in the front, to that the effects of the tight fabric were on generous display. Her well-fitting leather pants shined in the dim light of the tavern when she moved with silent steps. The black outfit was set off by her lustrious brown hair that had so much body that it could be the ocean itself, her brown boots, and her golden earrings. She looked up, most of her face covered by a silky black mask. "Oi, Elijah! I want something strong, but not strong enough to get me sick in a rush."
Elijah sent a look to the two men as if to say, that's the one, and then said, "Something different today, eh, Captain?"
The woman rolled her eyes. "Like I said, Elijah, don't call me that. At least, not until I can get my ship and crew back together."
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Post by Sorrows on Apr 19, 2007 11:25:32 GMT -8
The man set down the mug on the table. His eyebrows raised at the title given to the woman, the action near enough to gaping when it came from his kind. A Captain.. He was sure he'd heard of them before. They were those madmen who used those things called 'Ships' and rode on the huge waters. Just the thought of that much water together was enough to make the usually stoic man sigh and shake his head disbelievingly. He'd grown up killing over only enough water to cup in your hands, and here the wetlanders had their 'rivers' and 'lakes'.
He looked at the one addressed so, sizing her up as well as the others. He nearly quirked a smile as he threw a sidelong comment at the wetlander who had spoken to him. "Now there's a Maiden you wouldn't want to ask to Dance the Spears. She'd as likely take you gai'shan just to teach you to Sing night and day."
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Post by Zeffa! on Apr 19, 2007 21:28:10 GMT -8
The big man in red wondered what exactly it was that made him more afraid of the woman than him. These were not men to tangle with either. Arrogance. He took a few coins from his heavy leather jacket, and placed them on the counter gently, tending to his drink.
The younger man with the cromson hair watched Naburine enter. At first her body held his attention, but she did appear too much. She just wasn't his type. He returned to his drink as well, sighing into his reflection before he drank it in.
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Post by Raiku on Apr 24, 2007 22:00:51 GMT -8
(I heard "Captain" so here I am.)
The Mustang reered back as it ended it's long ride. The man with the dark red mask around his face leapt from the saddle and landed without a sound. Possibly the only thing that would reveal his position was his shadow, if it could ever catch up to him. Leon never stood in one place for very long, but after several days of riding he needed a place to rest.
Leon opened the door, entered the tavern, and closed it in one swift motion. His black leather hat cascaded past his brow, hiding his dark blue eyes from those not prepared to see them. His black boots, tight against his leg by the use of a belt on each one, seemed to glide across the floor as he made his way over to the bar. "I be needing a place ta sit down for the night." He said with a menacing tone. "If this not be the place, lead me elsewhere."
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