Blue
Newbie
Therapy is expensive. Popping bubble wrap is cheap. You choose.
Posts: 19
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Post by Blue on Aug 16, 2005 0:17:31 GMT -5
((Reffering to Harle, you being the passed out woman between you two. Blue tends to go for women that aren't exactly passed out on a barstool))
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teran
Warrior
I'm sorry, I think you mis-understood your question.
Posts: 367
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Post by teran on Aug 19, 2005 20:40:22 GMT -5
[glow=red,2,300]"HAH! Like my ways are anything close to holy, i revel in the play things of the long damned demons of ancient times, and you dare to call me holy! It would be a mistake those new to my gods would make, trying to be fanatic while cowering in the mihgty wake of ash and dust. If you truly are devoted to the fire gods of old, why do you carry such a weapon as a mere mortal?"[/glow] Meldron eyed the gun agian, dark glasses reflecting the light from the door. Spitting on the floor, He turned towards the bar searching for the bartender and hopefully his vodka. If the stupid man did not come quicker he would probably set this whole bar on fire just for his spite of the mortal's inability to act fast enough.
[glow=red,2,300]"Well, if it is your wish to journey with me, you will have to prove your loyalty to my gods. So grab yourself a bottle of something, and something thats makes a fair flame, and we will see if you truly believe in my gods. If i find that you are to weak, or that you are lying about your loyalty, there will be nothing but damnation for the rest of your life. Ah, that looks like my vodka is coming at last."[/glow] Watching the barkeep put down his bottle, Meldron reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small black pouch. Carefully untying the strings, Meldron fished from the pouch a few coins, thowing them roughly at the bartender. Turning back to the stranger Meldron smiled. [glow=red,2,300]"So, do you like this bar?"[/glow]
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Blue
Newbie
Therapy is expensive. Popping bubble wrap is cheap. You choose.
Posts: 19
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Post by Blue on Aug 26, 2005 3:48:43 GMT -5
Blue stared at the somewhat odd man, sizing him up. Meldron’s dark glasses seemed to bore into him with a sinking cut. It was a creepy feeling, one that sent shivers through Blue’s jaws and bounced a ringing into his ears. It didn’t help that his quarry wore a steely expression and professional clothing. He looked like a successful businessman stopping by a bar. I always knew those guys were evil. Blue suddenly felt very remarkable, like a yellow banana in Pleasantville. Reaching the pocket of his black leather jacket, Blue retrieved a pair of glasses with oval transition lenses and steel rims. He slid them onto his nose, and they seemed to rest upon his face more than merge with it.
“I like the poker table, not much else about it,” he said, ignoring the rather irked expression pasted across the bartender’s face.
A while ago, Blue had thought black leather was too rebel, the type of thing that bikers and druggies wore. Then again, he had always seen it on guys with handlebar moustaches, tattoos, and mean expressions. He had recently found a jacket that looked quite the opposite, something of hardy and suave character. He rather liked it, distinctive, but not defining. Since then, Blue had come to wear it everywhere he went. Pulling his wallet out of the smooth, well-tanned left pocket, he fished out a few bills and slapped them on the table.
Motioning to the already indignant bartender, Blue said, “give me a bottle of Jack Daniels. Don’t bother pouring it.”
As the bartender turned to the drink counter with a wary eye, Blue pulled out some rolling paper and a bag of his own special mix. If he was going to be accompanying this felon for a while, might as well have some fun. He laid a square sheet of the special paper on the counter, and proceeded to sprinkle a line of green and brown herbs across it in a small line. The bartender set a bottle down in front of him. A black label saying “Jack Daniels No. 7 Tennessee Whiskey” invited him. Still, Blue figured Meldron had something in mind, so the young marshal contented himself to tightly roll his cigarette, and ease it into his mouth.
It always was nice to take a few moments to enjoy the smell of a freshly rolled cigarette before you lit it. Blue inhaled the sweet, mildly pungent aroma, and then with a grin, flicked his wick lighter and raised its flame to the cigarette tip. He inhaled deeply, letting the mild and raspy smoke flow into his mouth. Good tobacco was always a worthwhile investment. Finally feeling truly comfortable, Blue turned back to Meldron and suddenly realized that he hadn’t answered the demon’s first, more spurning enquiry.
“Oh, then gun. Right. I’m afraid that despite my faith, I am a mere mortal. I lack the ability to shoot fireballs or any of the more entertaining ways of combat, so I must content myself with a simple firearm. It’s not the most spectacular nor the most fiendish, but it gets the job done, y’know. After all, burning bodies are burning bodies, live or dead.”
Blue took another drag of his cigarette, and grinned his finest insane grin. As a child, Blue had been a bit of a pyro, and it seemed that now would be a good time to catch up on old skills. Between the bottle of hard liquor and the not-so-subtle query about the bar, Blue had an idea of what was about to unfold. Oh what fun. This wasn’t Zaloria, which meant that he wasn’t responsible to stop crime, just to bring in criminals… which meant a bit of arson would be excused. Blue pushed his glasses further up his nose with a knuckle, and took another puff from his cigarette. He felt like one cool cat… and supposed he was.
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teran
Warrior
I'm sorry, I think you mis-understood your question.
Posts: 367
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Post by teran on Sept 3, 2005 20:47:01 GMT -5
[glow=red,2,300]"The shooting of fireballs and such techniques are even beyond me, only in reach of the gods..."[/glow] A pain and anger seemed to momentarily flash across his face before it returned to its normal steely look. Power was all Meldron had ever wanted, was all he had ever needed, and once he got his hands on all the power that he could, he would show everyone, even his own gods. For now he would walk with the mortals, the lowestof low, even if some agreed with his ways. He would even continue to take orders, if it only brought him power. Glancing over at the cigarrete, meldron smiled slightly. People who liked to smoke, who liked to breath in the ash of those whom they had just murdered, could be friends... could be.. [glow=red,2,300]"Come, I have buisness to attend to at the bank, and i do not wish to be late. Grab you whiskey. oh... and you mihgt want to say goodbyes to those you know in here... it may prove worthwhile"[/glow] With a smirk that showed dangerously pionted teeth, Meldron stood up and moved towards the door. he topped when a loud sound came from the bartender, who was looking reproachfully at the bottle in Meldrons pale hand. Grimacing now, Meldron stuck his other hand into a pocket, and throw some coins at the startled barkeep. [glow=red,2,300]"Keep the change, you might need it"[/glow] Turning his back on the bar, he walked out the door and into the dust of the road, knowing what he must do next. He didn't even turn to see if the stranger was following him, even if he was, it wouldn't matter, he didn't need help on this. Turing around Meldron edge sidways till he could easily see the shelves with bottles of various alcohols. Fixing his eyes on one of the bottles, meldron waited for his new found companion to follow.
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