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The Bar
  • The Bar

    What's your poison?

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#31

Posted 22 June 2013 - 05:45 PM

Mitsy!

“Okay, bub, that’s as far as we go!” said Mitsy as the bike came to a halt halfway down the road. Jesop turned his head as he switched the bike off.

“What the f*ck?” he said as Mitsy climbed off the back.

“The guy was a creep, but I’m not batting your way either.” She strolled back to the bar with a smile; her smooth long legs a sight to behold. Jesop gritted his teeth and let the anger slide away. Screw you then, bitch. He started up his bike. Mitsy’s shift wasn’t over.

Vercetti42
  • Vercetti42

    I have moved to a new account.

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#32

Posted 22 June 2013 - 06:14 PM Edited by AceKingston, 22 June 2013 - 06:17 PM.

Jason McCarthy

Jason, was a handsome 30 year old man, with brown hair. He is part of the "Motorcycle Monsters" Biker gang and he stepped in to have a nice little chill drink.

In the main room and approached Benjamin Pricklington , standing in the main room.

"Hey, what's your name?" Jason asks him cautiously.
"Oh, Benjamin "The Prick" Picklington" he said vaguely, he seemed quite drunk. A bottle of wine was held loosely in his right hand and his eyes were lopsided.
"Who, you?" he asked suddenly.
"I'm Jason McCarthy, part of the "Motorcycle Monsters" Biker gang"
Jason held out his hand to shake Benjamin's but Benjamin gave a drunken laugh.

"The Motorcycle Monsters?, Ha ha! What a stupid name, I heard there are a couple of sh*t heads there, I believe?"
"Shut up" said Jason quietly.
"And you're one of them"
"I said SHUT UP!"
"How's it going? Monsters huh? Ha ha, what the-?"

Jason had pulled out his pistol and pointed it at Benjamin's face.

"You've got two options, fight back or go away quietly" whispered Jason, the gun still pointing at Benjamin's head.

Location: Bar Main Room.

E: Sorry for being brief, just wanted to start up, lol. Let's see what VP does.

The Bar
  • The Bar

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#33

Posted 22 June 2013 - 06:26 PM Edited by The Bar, 22 June 2013 - 06:29 PM.

Within seconds Ricky is upon Jason with a Colt M1911 cocked, ready to shoot. Mitsy enters from the back, jumps over the bar, retrieves the Remington Model 870 and pumps it; aiming straight for Jason. Paddy steps down the bar, he slips down and yanks out his modified Smith & Wesson Model 625 that shines with its beautiful silver glint.

"No guns in the bar there, boyo!" says Paddy; his eyes locked on Jasons upper torso.

"You best take your leave while you've got the f*ckin' legs to carry you, worm," adds Ricky with gritted teeth.

It becomes apparent that no guns are allowed in the bar. You will surely die if you press the trigger.


Change your character's color also as Clay is using yellow. Here is a list of BB Code colors:

BB COLOR CODE LIST

Vercetti42
  • Vercetti42

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#34

Posted 22 June 2013 - 06:36 PM

Jason McCarthy #2

Jason looks at Ricky, Mitsy and Paddy for a few seconds and then back at Benjamin.

"Oh, well alright" He said throwing the gun away into a bin. "That guy insulted me you know?"
"Yeah, but I don't give a sh*t" said Ricky "Remember, no guns allowed in here, so control your temper"

Ricky walks out of the bar with Mitsy, Paddy eyes Jason skeptically but shrugs and goes down to the Basement.

Jason took a deep breath, he had been so close to death this time around, deciding to get some fresh air, he made his way up to the rooftop.

Locations:

Jason: Rooftop
Ricky: Out of the Bar with Mitsy.
Paddy: Basement.
Benjamin: Bar Main Room.
---

@Ziggy: Ah, sorry, but you said you can cause havoc, can I use bottles and stuff? And what happens if you die?

The Bar
  • The Bar

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#35

Posted 22 June 2013 - 06:40 PM

QUOTE (AceKingston @ Saturday, Jun 22 2013, 18:36)
Jason McCarthy #2

Jason looks at Ricky, Mitsy and Paddy for a few seconds and then back at Benjamin.

"Oh, well alright" He said throwing the gun away into a bin. "That guy insulted me you know?"
"Yeah, but I don't give a sh*t" said Ricky "Remember, no guns allowed in here, so control your temper"

Ricky walks out of the bar with Mitsy, Paddy eyes Jason skeptically but shrugs and goes down to the Basement.

Jason took a deep breath, he had been so close to death this time around, deciding to get some fresh air, he made his way up to the rooftop.

Locations:

Jason: Rooftop
Ricky: Out of the Bar with Mitsy.
Paddy: Basement.
Benjamin: Bar Main Room.
---

@Ziggy: Ah, sorry, but you said you can cause havoc, can I use bottles and stuff? And what happens if you die?

You can create havoc. A bar fight can happen, but guns aren't tolerated. If your character dies, the police will come, your body will be bagged up and you will have to create a new character. This is to cut down the crappy criminal writing and such.

AceRay
  • AceRay

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#36

Posted 22 June 2013 - 08:22 PM

Maria Orosco

The two agents looked pretty legitimate as they approached her, rain jackets over fancy suits and an air of importance surrounding them. Still, Maria straightened up as they got closer and prepared for a rough fight.

“Good evening miss, can we have a minute of your time?” it was going to take more than that to convince Maria to leave with two strange people.
“Who are you?”
“We’re FBI ma’am. I am Agent Leah Harper and my colleague here is Agent Charles Wolfe. We just want to ask you some questions.”
“Can I see your badges?”
“Absolutely, miss,” they flashed their badges at her and Maria took a long, cold stare at them.
“If I ran these through the police database, would I find them registered?”
“Of course,” Wolfe said, both of them handing her the badges. She flipped out her iphone and carefully typed in the identification into the police database. Both came up clean, fully registered. They appeared to be legitimate. But she wouldn’t comply just yet. She was amused by Wolfe’s middle name.
“Here you go, Muriel,” she said as she passed them back to them. “What do you want from her, exactly?” the two of them looked at each other briefly.
“It’s about your ex-husband, Lee Vincenzo. He’s in our custody right at this moment.
Maria wasn’t stupid. The FBI could have been lying, using this to draw out Lee from his hiding spot, making her just a pawn in their sick games.

Just then, some punk pulled out his colt, leading for more guns to be pulled by the patrons. The barman, barmaid and the bouncer all had their own guns drawn and ready to shoot, like some kind of standoff in a cowboy film. In the confusion and chaos, Maria pulled out her Glock and discretely pointed it at Harper. Wolfe managed to have his gun drawn at his waist height, pointed at her chest, Harper with her hands up at around her shoulder level. No one could notice their little standoff in the corner and the guy threw down his gun.
“Please, miss, just come with us. No one needs to get hurt,” on second thought, maybe this wasn’t such a safe place for a girl to hang out, what with all the guns.
“I’m keeping this,” she said as she tucked it away under her coat before leaping off the seat. The trio moved to the exit.

As they got outside, they saw a van speed out of the alleyway. The windows were tinted black as night. The look of pure shock on the agents’ faces was definitely amusing.
“Tha… That was our ride!” shrieked Wolfe.
“You two, stay here, I’m going to check out what just happened,” the biggest, baddest government agency in the country and they were unorganized enough to get stuck at the side of the road.
“What was it?” Maria asked.
“Eh, it was nothing, don’t worry about it,” Harper lied, the uncertainty and confusion lighting up on her face like a Christmas tree. This was another clue that these two were just plain fishy.
“Well, what do we do now?” Maria pondered as the other two looked dumbstruck. After a couple of minutes of silence, Maria said “I could drive you two, you know,”
“Can we discuss this for a minute, miss?”
“Sure,” they backed into a corner and whispered to each other, Maria taking the opportunity to watch the alleyway where the van burst out of. From the shadows, it appeared to be some men talking and dragging something around on the floor, as well as men’s voices hovering and echoing around the alleyway. What were those people doing? What had they seen?
“Alright, we’ll take the ride.”

They moved quickly towards the GMC and hopped in, with Maria driving, Wolfe riding shotgun and Harper sitting in the back. Its 6.0 L gas-guzzling engine roared to life and they drove off into the night. Harper suggested they go to the police station, so Maria made her way there through the dangerous streets.

As they drove, Maria kept waiting for the perfect opportunity to kick up the sawn off shotgun from the floor and whack the guy in the face with it, stick it in his mouth and give the ceiling a new paintjob of blood red while pointing the Glock round and holding the woman hostage, the 12 gauge kept hidden in the back for special emergencies. These two dumbasses were even too stupid for the FBI.

They came to a stop at an empty crossing, the light still red. As the car lurched forward, the sawn off slowly came forward to touching her leg. She pretended to scratch her leg as Wolfe observed the surroundings outside the GMC and when he turned around, he was looking down the barrel of a sawn off shotgun. She had twisted around and had her Glock pointed right at Harper, who had her own pistol pointed at the back of Maria’s head. Maria knew she wouldn’t kill her; they thought she knew where Lee was or was connected to her. She still had some time to left to buy before they figured that out.

“Start talking, now!”

Maria Orosco : Current Location: Out of Bar.

Ziggy455
  • Ziggy455

    Mahogany den writer, between the ashtrays and nuts.

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#37

Posted 22 June 2013 - 11:59 PM Edited by Ziggy455, 23 June 2013 - 01:51 AM.

Mr. Mayhem

The night was warm. Good, good. That was good. It was great. It meant things; the wind was calling to him. He could feel the positive side to things as he felt the cool breeze of the urbanscape. As he stood on the roof, overlooking O’Malley’s, it became abundantly clear that this was the place. The phonecall had said it all. Meet here. We’ll talk here. We’ll lay down and die here because that’s what was in store for us. Oh hardy f*cking har it was all gonna come together. Vicks had said as much, with her whip and her nails. She had caught him and dug him out of a fiery building, and the very men he’d saved were going to be killed tonight.

No. That wasn’t true at all. God! Why the f*ck did he always get messed up. No, the real plan was deep down; in the essence of his eyes and soul. Vicks couldn’t get that far in. She could take away the painkillers and the water. She could do more damage than she had already done, but in all of her sexiness and cruel nature, she couldn’t pierce the steel cage of his soul and in there remained his true reality and his true nature.

He crouched and as the sound of a screech filled the warm air. The van sped down and alleyway; that was it: a van. The lights not on, the dark tinted windows rolled up, hiding the driver. As the car screeched off out the alley, three people exited the bar. Two men and a woman ; one of the men ran off. They had some sort of quarrel that ended with all of them getting in a nice little car and speeding off. The bar remained quiet for a while after that. He bided his time. Slipping the mask off his burnt face, he got back to sorting out his tools. He was to be silent, to be quiet if he was going to get in there to the old man and his protégé.

He jumped off the edge of the tenement block and grabbed the bag below. Inside was all he’d need: the documents, the files. He was the weapon himself; his sword, his Karikishi as he had aptly named her after those dark times, remained on his back. Coated in his familiar Shinobi-like uniform, his ninja uniform, he felt remarkably better. The burns did not hurt anymore and he fit into the darkness of the night well enough. He spent the next few minutes examining his tools. Soon enough he would repay his debt and all would be well within the world. Of course, it was perfect that it would end in such a place. Laughing at his own thoughts: this was the place where the burnouts came to die.

AceRay
  • AceRay

    In my restless dreams, I see that town...

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#38

Posted 23 June 2013 - 12:46 AM Edited by AceRay, 23 June 2013 - 04:10 AM.

I was going to call out Mr Mayhem for having the same the same colour as Gullitt, but it appears that his font is slate gray while Gullitt is light slate gray. So, uh, yeah, while they're technically different, they look exactly the same to me, so maybe a change in colour?

Clay Barclay

The two men were still following him as he escorted Iris to her home. He could catch a look at them whenever he passed a car, spying their reflections behind him. They were around a hundred meters away. One of them a black guy with an afro and the other this older guy. He clutched Iris tighter, ever more nervous after that encounter with the other guy , whom had politely given him a hundred bucks, so all was forgiven at least.

Why was he so jumpy tonight? Getting interrupted when he was about to cum might have been one reason, by some drunken fool whom he wished he hit harder. Then the other guy started touching his girl. What right did he have to act like that though? He didn’t own Iris, she wasn’t his property, yet he still violently reacts. Maybe he was substituting his lack of sexual gratification with violence, using that to please his male urges.

Now there were two guys following him. Things couldn’t get worse. He looked back over his shoulder and was shocked to find that one was missing. Where had the black guy gone? It was now just one of them walking along.

Clay picked up the pace, his hand encasing Iris’ as they walked. She asked him why he was going so fast and he just told her he wanted to keep her safe and he had a bad feeling about stuff. She was running her mouth about her new job and life and such but he wasn’t listening, he was too busy looking around.

Finally, they got to her front door in one of the quieter parts of town. Clay wasn’t sure where the stalkers were now. The last time he saw them, they reunited and walking as a pair again, but that was ten minutes ago.
“I’m sorry my surprise got ruined,” Iris said. Clay tried hard to look at her eyes and avert the male gaze.
“You know, we continue on inside if you want, I’ve always wanted to get head,” he was smirking now, a real snake but he didn’t care, he was desperate for a woman’s touch.
“Ha ha, my brothers would kill you. Maybe some other day,” she slowly took her hand and ran it over his crotch erotically, Clay’s erection sticking up faster than his racing heartbeat was. He looked deep into her beautiful eyes, blue with swirls of brown mixed in creating an intoxicating effect. Tonight was definitely a night to get the lotion and tissues out.
“Iris, when I said I loved you before, I really meant it. It wasn’t because of the blowjob,” it was hard to sound romantic when you say blowjob, it kind of spoils the mood somewhat, but she got the sentiment.
“I’ll never forget you, Clay. I love you too,” then they embraced, long and deep and passionate. Clay never wanted to leave those beautiful lips but he managed to pull himself away.
“Goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” then she walked up her steps to the door, took a last look at Clay and blew him a kiss. A tear slowly trickled out the corner of his eye as he caught it with his hand and held it close to his heart. She went inside and Clay felt a part of him leave with her.

He turned and started walking down the street.

He looked all around and they were nowhere to be found. It was pure and still, only a gray van could be vaguely seen driving past into the mist and fog of the night. He started to walk home. He needed to see Grandpa.

Clay Barclay : Current location: Out of Bar

The Bar
  • The Bar

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#39

Posted 23 June 2013 - 01:48 AM

QUOTE (AceRay @ Sunday, Jun 23 2013, 00:46)
I was going to call out Mr Mayhem for having the same the same colour as Gullitt, but it appears that his font is slate gray while Gullitt is light slate gray. So, uh, yeah, while they're technically different, they look exactly the same to me, so maybe a change in colour?

Clay Barclay

The two men were still following him as he escorted Iris to her home. He could catch a look at them whenever he passed a car, spying their reflections behind him. They were around a hundred meters away. One of them a black guy with an afro and the other this older guy. He clutched Iris tighter, ever more nervous after that encounter with the other guy , whom had politely given him a hundred bucks, so all was forgiven at least.

Why was he so jumpy tonight? Getting interrupted when he was about to cum might have been one reason, by some drunken fool whom he wished he hit harder. Then the other guy started touching his girl. What right did he have to act like that though? He didn’t own Iris, she wasn’t his property, yet he still violently reacts. Maybe he was substituting his lack of sexual gratification with violence, using that to please his male urges.

Now there were two guys following him. Things couldn’t get worse. He looked back over his shoulder and was shocked to find that one was missing. Where had the black guy gone? It was now just one of them walking along.

Clay picked up the pace, his hand encasing Iris’ as they walked. She asked him why he was going so fast and he just told her he wanted to keep her safe and he had a bad feeling about stuff. She was running her mouth about her new job and life and such but he wasn’t listening, he was too busy looking around.

Finally, they got to her front door in one of the quieter parts of town. Clay wasn’t sure where the stalkers were now. The last time he saw them, they reunited and walking as a pair again, but that was ten minutes ago.
“I’m sorry my surprise got ruined,” Iris said. Clay tried hard to look at her eyes and avert the male gaze.
“You know, we continue on inside if you want, I’ve always wanted to get head,” he was smirking now, a real snake but he didn’t care, he was desperate for a woman’s touch.
“Ha ha, my brothers would kill you. Maybe some other day,” she slowly took her hand and ran it over his crotch erotically, Clay’s erection sticking up faster than his racing heartbeat was. He looked deep into her beautiful eyes, blue with swirls of brown mixed in creating an intoxicating effect. Tonight was definitely a night to get the lotion and tissues out.
“Iris, when I said I loved you before, I really meant it. It wasn’t because of the blowjob,” it was hard to sound romantic when you say blowjob, it kind of spoils the mood somewhat, but she got the sentiment.
“I’ll never forget you, Clay. I love you too,” then they embraced, long and deep and passionate. Clay never wanted to leave those beautiful lips but he managed to pull himself away.
“Goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” then she walked up her steps to the door, took a last look at Clay and blew him a kiss. A tear slowly trickled out the corner of his eye as he caught it with his hand and held it close to his heart. She went inside and Clay felt a part of him leave with her.

He turned and started walking down the street.

He looked all around and they were nowhere to be found. It was pure and still, only a gray van could be vaguely seen driving past into the mist and fog of the night. He started to walk home.

Clay Barclay : Current location: Out of Bar

I'll change it now. Damn, had no idea how close they were. It'll be changed momentarily.

Coat.
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#40

Posted 23 June 2013 - 03:40 AM

Barry had found himself in the basement of the bar. He had stolen a keg of beer from the alley after the running into some prick outside. He sat, slumped in the very bottom of the bar - slowly drinking his life away. The place is way too loud for his liking. Drunks dance around and people hopelessly spend away their earnings on the poker tables. He picks the large keg and attempts to walk with it to the cellar - to try and get away from everybody. He pushes past a group of people near the stage, and accidentally drops the keg on one of their foot.

"I... I, I didn't mean to..." Buster tries to speak but is pushed to the floor and a pool cue is smashed on his head.

He lays on the cold floor in pain and crawls over to the door of the cellar. It doesn't budge; it is locked. Music is blaring, and people are yelling and so he kicks the door open without anyone noticing. Buster staggers into the cellar and pushes the door behind him before flicking on the light switch beside the door. Wine cases and bottles lay stacked around. A few kegs are laid in the corner - the old ones that are made of wood. A small radio is placed on a metal table; and he tunes in to some station that could only be picked up inside the room. Some jazzy music begins playing. He pops open a wine bottles and dances around like a moron. The entire time he is doing this, he is trying to climb up on shelves that are stacked high of wine bottles of all sorts.

It seems like endless fun. He prances around the room drinking dozens of different bottles before looking in a daze at a large keg that was hidden at the top of the shelving. Barry runs his arm along his mouth to wipe the saliva off his face, and he attempts to climb the shelving. It is obviously unstable and is missing a few screws. It begins to wobble, but he continues climbing. He is in arms reach of the top of it before the shelf leans towards him and comes crashing down. Barry is crushed as bottles and glasses smash into his body. The shelf breaks his leg and his head comes smashing down onto the metal table - hitting his temple and killing him almost instantly. What a life he lived. No one knows that he is dead, inside the cellar.


Current Location: Cellar
Status: Dead

AceRay
  • AceRay

    In my restless dreams, I see that town...

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#41

Posted 23 June 2013 - 04:49 AM

L.L. Gullitt

For every second that they wasted, the FBI was going to block off and wire the bar to further their side of this espionage. They could block off the entire area and prevent them from reaching the entire area, completely killing their progress in the case. Prescious conversations and dialogue was going unrecorded. They hadn’t a second to lose.

Switching the vans was imperative to the operation. The FBI could identify the Ford Transit at a moment’s notice, therefore switching to the white Toyota Hiace hidden inside the parking lot, a little bit smaller and cramped but necessary nevertheless. They had precisely one shot of getting within the cameras’ two hundred meter radius and hiding it inside an abandoned building or garage or somewhere. Otherwise, they were sitting ducks.

On the other hand, this was also good. They, the FBI, had already lost two agents and were going to be anxious and cautious to pull another stunt like that. Not to mention that Maria would soon be in their hands and they could be the ones pulling strings. The biggest worry Gullitt had was finding the informant.

Tracking down Theo and Link had been a simple case of phoning them up. Thankfully, they were still following Clay Barclay and his girlfriend. While they were embracing on her brother’s porch, Gullitt managed to swing by and pick up the two of them. Neither of them said anything interesting had happened but he was still suspicious of a betrayal from one of them. While it would have been helpful to keep tags on Clay, he needed for the squad to regroup so he could assess each one individually.

Before he had picked them up, he explained his informant theory to Tarrance. He was under the impression that they had imply gotten sloppy during the wiring of the bar. That wasn’t a possibility, Gullitt had explained. He then accused Gullitt of lacklustre observing skills. This earned him a slap in the face and a cold, hard glare. Maybe Tarrance was the informant after all.

But where were Abe and Nikki? He had tried their phone a dozen times with no response. Finally, he got through, only to hear an unfamiliar voice on the other end.
“Helloooooo.”
“Who is this?”
“I should be asking you the same question.”
“Answer me,” Gullitt whispered.
“It was nice of you to send those agents to pick me up. Bit light in the brain department though,” Gullitt flexed his jaw as he quickly put together who it was.
Maria… what are you doing?”
“Don’t worry, they’re in my care right now, all safe and sound,” he thought he could hear a gagged Nikki trying to scream in the background.
“You lay a finger on them and I’ll-”
“You’ll what? I want answers now or Wolfy here is getting a nice date with a slice of concrete at the bottom the river.”
“Okay, I’ll comply,” by this time, the other three had stopped moving equipment and were peering over to listen to the conversation. Gullitt shooed them away with his hand and made his way behind a pillar. “We’re paid specialists hired to track down Lee Vincenzo. We were hired by Rolf Klink, his old boss.”
“Why does he want Lee back?”
“I can’t explain over the phone, he was basically running a scam
“Where is Lee now?”
“He may be in FBI custody or making deals with the mafia or both, we can’t be too sure at this stage.”
“Why were you following me?”
“Because we thought you might lead us to Lee.”
“Alright, we can talk later where you can pick up your little couple. Meet me at Riley’s Wharf in the south, near the go kart rink and the old abandoned shipping warehouses. You can’t miss me,” then she hung up.

Gullitt smiled. This was just what he needed. This was a chance to get Maria on their side and use her as an agent on the ground, allowing direct contact with Lee and then catching him. Wire Maria with a recorder and use her on the inside. It was perfect. It only required some quick thinking during the upcoming confrontation.

He quickly ordered Theo and Link into the van, who then protested that their equipment wasn’t quite wired yet. He told them to hook everything up as they drove, a difficult task but achievable nonetheless. With Tarrance driving in the front seat this time, they abandoned the Ford Transit in the car park and headed to the south of town, Gullitt contemplating his every move for the upcoming confrontation.

L.L. Gullitt: Current location: Out of Bar.

Vercetti42
  • Vercetti42

    I have moved to a new account.

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#42

Posted 23 June 2013 - 05:41 AM

Yo' Ziggs you forgot to add my character.

AceRay
  • AceRay

    In my restless dreams, I see that town...

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#43

Posted 23 June 2013 - 07:31 AM Edited by AceRay, 23 June 2013 - 07:59 AM.

I swear this took far much more effort than it was worth. Well, I tried to do something interesting at least, sorry if this just an eyesore and it sucks.

69tR0LlK1Ng

69tR0LlK1Ng has entered chat. Other users in chatroom:
JonR-Az, xaviatorx, trix$ar, YagamiFan, dax411k, nfsdante

JonR-Az: lol king r u at teh bar r8 now?????
69tR0LlK1Ng: yah; in teh main room; near the back, real mgs styl
nfsdante: awesome
xaviatorx: yolo swag biggrin.gif biggrin.gif biggrin.gif biggrin.gif biggrin.gif biggrin.gif biggrin.gif
YagamiFan: That sounds like a fun time.
69tR0LlK1Ng: i pased dis dum gay ; he iz lokin @ mi laptop lik a f@g
trix$ar: kick his a$$
trix$ar: lol XD
JonR-Az: lol
69tR0LlK1Ng: nah he be drunk as my ****
69tR0LlK1Ng: ****
69tR0LlK1Ng: D. I. C. K.
dax411k: trolololol
YagamiFan: ha ha ha no swearing, you naughty boy.
69tR0LlK1Ng: u spek weird
nfsdante: ur dum and a f@g
xaviatorx: dis is a chat you dum ****
JonR-Az: stahp o u be banned
xaviatorx: lol
YagamiFan: Uh, I'm fed up with you inbred pricks, you people are a disgrace to humanity, you should all die right now. This is the last time I ever enter a chat forum again.
69tR0LlK1Ng: tl;dr
dax411k: ur a f@ggot XD
YagamiFan: You're a real degenerate, I hate you more than Hitler, I bet you're into yolo too.
69tR0LlK1Ng: YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO YOLO
YagamiFan has left chat.
xaviatorx: EPIC SON U POWNED HIM UP XD XD
trix$ar: 2 right, u teh man k1ng
dax411k: king is cool smile.gif
69tR0LlK1Ng: teh drunk dud telled me bout dis guy getting bj in teh bathroms
trix$ar: wat a playa \ (•0•) /
JonR-Az: lol, dat guy is col smile.gif smile.gif
xaviatorx: im callin bs he got no swag
69tR0LlK1Ng: lol yeah; probs
dax411k: lol
nfsdante: gtg, got 2 eat diner guyz
JonR-Az: bye dante
nfsdante has left chat.
69tR0LlK1Ng: ther's dis other guy lokin @ mi laptop.
69tR0LlK1Ng: any1 want 2 join me @ teh bar?
xaviatorx: nobdy wnt 2 go 2 gay bar, there be gays loking @ ur laptop.
69tR0LlK1Ng: shut up u **** ill kut u u ****
69tR0LlK1Ng: C. U. N. T.
69tR0LlK1Ng: little *****
trix$ar: calm down u stupid A$$hole
dax411k: wtf??????
69tR0LlK1Ng: ILL KILL U 2 **** RIP A *** UP YOUR ****** STICK A **** UP YOUR **** **** CARROT
xaviatorx: lol
dax411k: LOL LOL LOL
trix$ar: jk
JonR-Az: dont worry, im up 4 it, b there soon biggrin.gif
69tR0LlK1Ng: ok im waitin 4 u, u know where it is???????
JonR-Az: yah, im fine, se u soon wink.gif
JonR-Az has left chat.

69tR0LlK1Ng: Current location: Bar Main Room

if nobody gets that, 69tR0LlK1Ng is in the bar, chatting in a chatroom on his laptop. He insults a guy looking for intelligent conversation and that person leaves. JonR-Az has agreed to meet him at the bar.

Ziggy455
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#44

Posted 23 June 2013 - 02:49 PM

This made me laugh way more than it should have. biggrin.gif

Zugzwang
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#45

Posted 24 June 2013 - 04:38 AM Edited by Zugzwang, 02 July 2013 - 04:37 AM.

[stupid noob post, in wrong topic]

Coat.
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#46

Posted 24 June 2013 - 06:16 AM

Ziggy, please update this.

Mokrie Dela
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#47

Posted 24 June 2013 - 09:42 AM

Highs and lows, the men thought as they entered the bar. It was darker than what they were used to. Firstly there as no doorman greeting them, and not one of the patrons gave them a royal welcome.

"This'll do," Zach Winters said, pointing at the bar stools. A few heads turned, noticing the two men in expensive-looking clothes. Zach was wearing annest hooded jacket and some two hundred dollar jeans, a slick and expensive leather jacket and bright white sneakers. His friend was wearing a dress shirt and waistecoat, with suit-slacks and wingtip shoes. Together their outfits cost as much as a small car.
"Si, this is different." Sergio Alfonso said, following his younger and shorter friend to the bar.
"Champagne, mi amigo," Sergio said, hopping onto the barstool.
Misty stared at the men, as though they'd asked for Horse-Semen. She smiled and nodded, turning to get the chanpagne.
"The whole bottle," Winters demanded in his English-Essex accent.
"The best stuff you have, top shelf." Sergio Alfonso slapped a roll of money on the bar - hundred dollar bills. "And your number." Sergio flashed a look that, so far, no woman had been able to resist. But Misty did. She passed over the bottle of champagne, in the usual bucket, and took the money.
"You're not my type," she said politely. The man was good looking - Sergio had dark blonde, slicked back hair, a five-hundred-dollar hair cut, and his tones body was visible through the carefully designed shirt - the top few buttons open. The other guy had huge hair, somewhere between an Afro and a perm, and both sported stylish facial hair. Very exotic, Misty thought. She could see why women would go there, but in many ways, that was exactly what was wrong with men.
"Ooh!" Zach cried out mockingly, whipping his fingers against the air. "Burn!"
Sergio laughed. "You know who we are?"
"No," Misty said, suddenly bored. It didn't matter who they were, they were now douches.
"Don't watch TV then?" Zach laughed.
Misty scoffed, "All hats ever on TV is fake celebrity bullsh*t and hash tags."
"That explains it then!" Sergio laughed. "We're A-list!"
"Yeah; asshole-list, perhaps. Look guys, you ain't gonna pick up anyone here, definitely not me a least."
Zach's hand slapped on the bar, a hundred dollars under it.
"One night, darlin'. You, me, and mister Spaniard, and a hotel room."
Misty chuckled, "You don't have the money to afford me, boys."
"No?" Sergio reached into his slacks pocket.
"How much? Ten grand?"
Misty blinked but shook her head. The two men shared amazed glances.
"Lesbian," they slated in unison.
"Cute trick," Misty mocked. "But grow some tits, and a personality or give it up." With that she turned and walked to the far end of the bar to where a figure hunched over his laptop.
"You think Messi has this problem?"
"He's in spain, Why you think I put in for a transfer?"
Sergio smiled. "She's a lesbian, f*ck her."
"Wasn't that what we were trying to do?" Zach laughed.
Sergio beamed a smile as he downed his glass of eighty-five dollar champagne. "The foreign accents work, forget her... Hey!" he shouted out, "this tastes like soap!"
Sure, Misty thought, it's probably you; damned prett boys love themselves so much they probably spend longer in the bathroom than me...
What is it with me and men, this week?


Zach Winters & Sergio Alfonso
Location: main bar room
Status: pretentious, rich, celebrity assholes

AceRay
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#48

Posted 24 June 2013 - 07:10 PM

Morkie: yellow is already in use by Clay . Why not pick a new colour?

http://absitomen.com...php?topic=331.0

Or make it a gradient for your two snobby characters.
http://www.tektek.org/color/

Vercetti42
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#49

Posted 25 June 2013 - 01:19 AM

Ziggy, I can't believe you added your character but you didn't add mine even though I PM'ed you. angry.gif

Mokrie Dela
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#50

Posted 25 June 2013 - 01:20 AM

Oops
Ill edit that when I get to my pc.

AceRay
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#51

Posted 25 June 2013 - 05:33 PM

Clay Barclay

Clay walked down the street and got to his house in the old district, a nice but cramped home. He checked the mail but left disappointed.

Just as he was walking up the steps, his younger brother, Jon Roy, burst out the door and walked down the steps. He had his laptop bag tucked under his long coat to hide it from potential attackers, although it was still a probability considering he was a scrawny white kid at night.
“Hey Jon, where’re you going?”
“Just going to the bar,” he said as he got to the bottom of their stairs.
“Is Mom home?”
“Nah, she’s at Mordecai’s,” and then he was gone. Clay watched him vanished down the way he walked down the lane and round the bend. They were so close when they were young, spending almost all their time together yet they had grown apart over their teenage years. He still worried about Jon Roy some of the time; that he was hiding inside his shell on the internet, as he was 18 years old and yet had barely even touched a girl to Clay’s knowledge.

The creaked as he entered. It wasn’t a bad house, with subtle colours and nice minimalistic designs, as Dad supported them from the overseas which managed to pay for most of the essentials and Grandpa also contributed a bit, at least until he lost his job at the bank. Of course, Grandpa was probably still upstairs, in the attic, where he spent most of his time these days. Mom was more of a loose cannon. She was a “free style artist,” which usually meant flinging paint at a canvas and hitting on college students half here. She was bi-polar so some days she stayed moping in her room and others dancing around care free. Currently, she was dating a long-haired, bearded hippy who wore sunglasses at night whose name was Mordecai. He was only two years older than Clay and used long, complicated words to describe It was almost crazy to think how normal the three of them turned out with such a bizarre household to grow up in.

“Phoebes?” he asked through the door to his sister’s room, hearing her moan through the door. She was going to sleep and it was better not to disturb a teenage girl, considering how dangerous when you get on their bad side. He whispered goodnight to her and slowly shut the door.

Clay changed out of uniform and found himself on the couch, stroking his tabby cat Noodle, eating a bowl of cereal while looking through his brother’s anime collection. Out of nowhere, he started to cry. “Oh Iris, why did you have to leave me?” he said to himself under his breath as he cuddled Noodle harder than ever, who soon squirmed to get away from him, leaving him all alone in the dark lounge, only the muted infomercials on TV provided light in the room.

Then he heard footsteps thumping down the stairs. He curdled into a ball to hide his tears, to stop Grandpa from seeing him in such a pitiful state. But it was no use. He saw two feet stomp to the ground in front of him

It was his grandfather, Rolf Klink , standing before him.

btw, in case you haven’t been paying attention Rolf Klink is the guy who’s hired Gullitt to find Lee Vincenzo, who stole from the firm, just so you know wink.gif

Coat.
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#52

Posted 25 June 2013 - 10:08 PM

Please update Ziggy. Barry Wiggles is now dead!

Mokrie Dela
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#53

Posted 25 June 2013 - 10:42 PM

The door swung open with the fury of an angry god. Jesop marched in and headed straight for the bar. He practically threw his money at the barman who shot back an agressive stare.
"Get me a bottle of something," Jesop said.
The barman took the money and returned with a bottle of soda.
"Very f*cking funny," Jesop pushed the bottle back. "Whiskey or Southern Comfort, Vodka or something like that."
"You want a hard drink?" The barman mocked with a thick Irish brogue. "Hard drink for a hard man."
"Believe it." Jesop waved his fingertips for his drink.
"You need to work on your manners," the barman said. "You ever know if you'll find yourself drinking antifreeze, or if some deranged, unhinged individual would venture outside and tamper with your brute of a bike."
"You wanting a fight, pal? I'm not in the mood for this sh*t, now give me my f*cking drink." Heads turned as Jesop's voiced crescendoed at his profanity.
"You should lay off the drink," the barman retorted. "It's turning you into a f*cking brainless fa**ot. Threatening the landlord? Real smart." Paddy slammed the bottle of vodka on the bar. "I've had a long day, and last thing ii need is a little f*cker like you flexing his muscles. Bravo you piece of sh*t, you're a douchebag. No change." O'Fallen slammed the cash register shut, effectively charging double for the drink.
"Wanna take this outside? I've been in more bar brawls than you've had hot dinners."
Paddy reached into his packet and dropped a dollar onto the bar. He handed it to Jesop. "Take this; that cliche deserves it. I've been doing this for longer than you've been flipping off patrol cops. Wanna take this outside? Sure. I'll call the ambulance now shall I?"
Jesop laughed and swallowed a mouthful of the vodka, straight from the bottle and dropped the lid on the floor.
"I like you," Jesop said, sliding the dollar back. "You remind me of Charlie."
"Who the f*ck's Charlie and why the hell should I care?"
"Charlie was my best pal out in Cali."
"'Was'...?"
"Yeah. Got swatted by a ten ton flyswat."
"Jesus, what mind of flyswat's ten tons?"
"An eighteen wheeler one."
"f*ck me sideways. That's a hell of an impact."
"Even worse to see. We were doing about a hundred twenty... Would have been fine if we weren't being chased..."
"By who?"
"By -- " Jesop took another deep drag on the vodka, exhaling sharply after he gulped it down. He then sighed and spoke, the alcohol roughing his voice. "I don't wanna talk about it."
"Sure, sure." Paddy turned to head down the bar then cast a glance back at the biker. For a second, Jesop saw himself through his eyes; a worn out, greying biker.
"Say," Paddy said, turning back to Jesop. "You seemed alright the other day - thats right, I saw you. Bad day?"
Suddenly Jesop remembered why he stormed in here.
"I was looking for that f*cking lesbian bitch."
Suddenly Paddy burst out laughing, his cackle evident of too many whiskeys in his time. "I know that story! Come on, you can't see it? She never flirts with guys, she's tattooed, loves car and bike engines - what you thought she was interested in your stick shift? She drives and automatic.
Despite his rage and bruised ego, Jesop had to laugh at that. "Nice analogy."
"Yeah. But don't blame Misty, just the way she is. She was interested in your bike, not you."
"Yeah well, I found out the hard way, didnt I?"
"That's what cold showers are for, buddy."
"Or the Internet."
"Now that I don't wanna know. If you see Misty..."
"She owes me --"
"Sh owes you nothing. It's your cock that got you into this, don't blame her. Enjoy your drink."
Jesop moaned as Paddy walked off.
"... so nineteen-eighties!" Jesop looked at the two men* down the bar. The laug was at his expense.
"Queers!" He mumbled, the drink starting to slur his speech. They looked up at him. "I'm gonna he in a fight with someone tonight!" His voice grew in volume until heads turned. "Any takers?" His eyes were fixed on the two men in front of him, but he'd take anyone...



*these are winters and Alfonso
I'll edit colours later (on phone atm)
Some one wanna fight Jesop?

The Bar
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#54

Posted 25 June 2013 - 11:36 PM

UPDATE: All action is updated!

Ziggy455
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    Mahogany den writer, between the ashtrays and nuts.

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#55

Posted 26 June 2013 - 12:02 AM

Mr. Mayhem

He stepped into the bar as the jukebox hit random. Right now, he looked a different man. Not one of a scarred and desolate past, but one that suited the two other men that eyed him from the bar; his burns hidden from the view in the premium, Armani suit. He walked in with black gloves on his hands like a killer. His equipment was stored around the back –just in case it got to something crazy, but he got this far alive and he was doing fine. He was feelin’ fine as Celia would say- and there the items would stay for now.

The biker at the bar seemed perturbed. He grunted as he swallowed half another drink; the two other men, the posh men, slowly edged away from him. A dark essence of anger swam around him. Slowly, Mr. Mayhem made his way to the bar, making sure to stand as close as possible to the biker who already stunk of exhaust fumes and alcohol. He grunted and then looked at Mr. Mayhem, an exasperated laugh left him as he shook his head and slammed the small glass onto the bar, causing more heads to shoot to them both. Mr. Mayhem made no notion of acknowledging the man.

Jesop Borrowitz“You f*cking fa**ots are comin’ in by the masses, what is it? Is there a sign outside saying ‘Free drink if your daddy’s credit card pays the way?’.”

Mr. Mayhem ignored him. “Can I please have a cold Budweiser please, Paddy?” Paddy squinted and wearily got a cold one from the fridge. He probably wasn’t use to politeness.

“Yeah…sure erm—“he trailed off as the sound of a fizz and clink of a bottle and a cap filled the air. As he slid the bottle, Paddy’s eyes met his and he saw the same look he always got. A muscular man with almost white eyes, a deep scar down the left cheek, and leathery skin was not the kind of man you expected to know his Ps and Qs.

“Hey, fa**ot. I’m talking to you!” yelled Jesop as he pushed the Budweiser away onto the floor with a forceful thrash of his bulky, oily hands. They were accustomed to choking the leathery throttle of massive, roaring machines on wheels but were concise in the fatal blow.

Mr. Mayhem kept his eyes on Paddy, and silence filled the room. After a few seconds of silence intersected with heavy breaths of Jesop whose anger was building up, Mr. Mayhem looked to the broken bottle that had exploded with a shatter, spraying across the ash-laden floor. He rolled his pale eyes and looked back to Mickey. “I’ll pay for that and another one, Paddy.”

“No, you f*ckin’ freak that’s it!” The biker shot up and grabbed Mr. Mayhem by the collar with gritted teeth; his hot breath laden with bitter alcohol. He got an inch within Mr. Mayhem’s face. “You think you’re f*ckin’ smart you dipsh*t, cocksucking c*nt, eh?”

“Eh, put the man down!” yelled Paddy; the negotiator.

Silence followed. Mr. Mayhem remained calm. In his head, a thousand times over, he calculated the outcome. Each little way, each little inconsistency; each weapon available and which bones in the body would break more easily, disarming.

“Outside, right now you f*ckin’ fool,” spat the burly Hell’s Angel as he launched Mr. Mayhem in the direction of the door; nobody in the bar was stupid enough to intervene except a faint yell from the back of the bar. Everybody stopped and both Mr. Mayhem and the biker looked back to see a red-headed girl jump from behind the bar. She wore tight denim shorts, a yellow top and was coated in all sorts of tattoos; her hair a light shade of red. She was obviously a little bit of a bisexual, or so Mr. Mayhem had figured.

“God-damnit, you f*cking idiot! What the hell’s the matter with you?!” she yelled as she came over and pushed the biker who barely swayed from the mini-shove.

“Don’t f*ck with me tonight, Mitsy. Seriosly, this c*nt’s asking for it. I need this sh*t.”

“Leave him alone, he’s a bloody patron, Jesop! He didn’t come here looking for a fight.”

“Let’s get this over with,” said Mr. Mayhem, his Armani jacket already on a chair, his black tie on top of it. He slowly unbuttoned his cuffs and top button as Jesop clicked his fingers.

“See? This daddy’s boy wants it.” People began to notice and piped in, and like most fights, an audience was ready. Jesop, the burly biker stepped outside slowly. “You got three minutes, fa**ot. Then I’m coming in to get you.”

Mr. Mayhem smiled his perfectly straight teeth and rolled up his sleeves. Mitsy ran over to him and placed a hand tightly on his left arm. He stopped, his eyes glaring at her but his smile, a remainder.

“He’ll beat the living sh*t out of you, you know that, right?”

Mr. Mayhem smiled wider and nodded. Mitsy let go of his arm and Paddy intervened. “Boyo, he won’t back down. Just take your stuff and go out the back door past the other room, I’ll tell him you ran off,” bargained Paddy in his thick Irish accent.

“Uimh imní, Paddy!” he said with a smile. The old bartender let out a gasp and nodded.

Mitsy looked back to Paddy and then Mr. Mayhem as people shuffled outside. “What did he say? He what did he say?” she asked as Mr. Mayhem stepped outside.

“He said ‘No Worries’ in Irish.”

“Well…Jesus,” replied Mitsy. And with that, she ran out with Paddy into the carpark.

Mokrie Dela
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#56

Posted 26 June 2013 - 01:10 AM

I really enjoyed that one. Except:
jesop was drinking straight from the bottle

Unless someone else wants to have their character intervene or watch or join in, I'm gonna have fun writing the next bit! Jesop looks like he's met his match with professor chao Mr Mayhem.

AceRay
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#57

Posted 26 June 2013 - 03:01 AM

QUOTE (The Bar @ Wednesday, Jun 26 2013, 12:36)
UPDATE: All action is updated!

Sorry to be a pain, it appears that Clay's recent activity hasn't been updated (he dropped of Iris for the last time and was suspicious of the two figures following him, he went home, saw his brother leave and cried over his girlfriend, then seeing his Granddad).

Furthermore, It appears that 69tR0LlK1Ng hasn't appeared as a character yet. Don't worry if its irritating or stupid, there's going to be a chatroom serial killer on the hunt for him and Jon Roy, its going to be fun!

In other news, Mr Mayhem's new chapter was excellent, I can't wait for the upcoming fight, I hope Morkie can deliver on it. cool.gif I wish Gullitt and co were at the bar and then I could give a WWE-style commentary to the fight after it happened, that would be awesome, ha ha. I'm working on the next Gullitt/Maria crossover chapter at the moment.

Eminence
  • Eminence

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#58

Posted 26 June 2013 - 07:00 AM

You know what might be an easier way to have this game run itself?

Have everyone designate one of their posts as their character's "hub", if you will, which they can constantly edit with their most recent activity, along with any other essential little snippets they think might be relevant to anyone.

In the first post, simply have a list of characters, each one linking to their respective hubs, where their activity is listed. So if someone wants to check out where any given character is, they simply click on the link, are taken to that post, and can read about it.

This then allows each writer to manage/update their own character at will, and the whole thing becomes less reliant on one person constantly updating the first post with tiny snippets of information.

It's basically what we did with the forum library the last time around. Instead of having a first post serving as one large library, each writer posted with their own bibliography, and updated it whenever they posted something new. The first post then served as a link to each of the authors' bibliographies.

Mokrie Dela
  • Mokrie Dela

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    Story/Poem of the Year 2010 "City of Lies"

#59

Posted 26 June 2013 - 09:43 AM

Not a bad idea em
Although for those wanting a quick update before posting their next bit, it'd need a bit of reading on them part but in terms of being self sustaining I can't think of a better idea

Join in man, come on!

Eminence
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#60

Posted 26 June 2013 - 10:41 AM

QUOTE (Mokrie Dela @ Wednesday, Jun 26 2013, 10:43)
Although for those wanting a quick update before posting their next bit, it'd need a bit of reading on them part

The only real difference is that it's split into multiple posts, as opposed to all being neat and tidy in one table.

Quicker than waiting x amount of time for that post to be updated, though.




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