Character Cantina II

The front door to the Cantina creaked open. A foot stepped inside, clad in what looked like a rugged, waterproof rubber boot with climbing hooks and cleats in the toes and outsole. It stepped back in surprise, lingered at the threshold as if hesitating, and finally committed to enter. A second identically covered foot followed it. The man to whom those feet belonged was now standing just inside the Cantina, shaking dirt off those boots by kicking one against the other.

He smiled wistfully to himself. "Here again..."

The man had short brown hair, a thin, pale face that bore signs of dirt and battle. It bore several prominent scars, most of which detracted from his appearance- save one. A thin line cut across the side of his cheek. His eyes had dark circles around them and only added to his ragged appearance.

On his body he wore a military issue dust-colored overcoat that, by the way it shifted about his body in several distinct pieces, looked to contain armored inserts. It went down to below the knees almost like a robe where slits had been cut up to the waist, in the front and back and both sides, falling in four pieces. A red tassel that was visibly frayed was tied around his left bicep in which he kept a small, thin knife that resembled a simple misericord.

He had other weapons as well. Hanging off his shoulder by a strap was what looked to be a short carbine, and what looked to be a sawn-off shotgun was strapped across the small of his back in a custom holster.

He made his way to the bar, the bottom of his coat flowing easily about his legs as he moved. He kept his head on a swivel too, taking in the bar's patrons as they talked, ate, drank. This place wasn't nearly as full as it was the last time he was here. Pulling up a stool, he seated himself right at the front with significantly more confidence than he had the first time. He pulled out a bag of coins from his coat and dropped it on the counter-top.

"This should cover whatever I get. They're Old Empire Drakes. Gold." He briefly wondered whether the Cantina's staff would accept made-up money. After all, money only retained it's value because it is thought to be valuable.

kindly ignore this until tomorrow, I have to sleep

edited 12th Sep '11 9:33:00 PM by draconiansuperior

Lafayette immediately grabbed all the bread from the bowl and stuffed it down his shirt, leaving one in his hands to chew on. This was good, and it wouldn't be often that he got any of this stuff...

He got halfway through the bread before he paused. Another 'human' who was 'unwell' in its form. There was really only one thing that could mean. While trying to keep all the bread in his shirt, he sat at the table. Kokabiel's field was weak, very weak, but an opportunity to spawn was an opportunity to spawn.

He made eyes. "I think you know what it is," said Lafayette, "But would you like to find out?"

and with that unfortunately I have to go to sleep. I hope to talk to you tomorrow ^^;

"Oh right, so this is not an Earth. No need to panic here." Marcus Devon said, combing his greazy blond hair with his left hand, while his right hand placed his phone back to his dark green labcoat.

"I doubt this warrant such reaction, Master." A pale and feminine looking boy, looking no older than seventeen, suggested.

"Mr. Devon would suffice, since we are not in the Lab. Now, what do you see..."

"That place looks like inhabited."

"Wuh? Oh! That was fast of you."

"Shall we enter the place?"

At this, Marcus started to look at their figures. He was wearing a dark green labcoat, a bleached jean, and navy turtleneck sweater, while the boy was wearing a dark blue trenchcoat. Although he had no idea which cultural influence might the place and people inside be under, he figured that there was nothing too conspicuous about them.

"I don't see why not." Then he looked at his pupil's skin. "Let's hope that they don't have anything against albinos, though." With that, they entered the building.

Kokabiel looked at Lafayette with slight alarm, and said, "I... believe you've misunderstood. Greatly. I have never encountered a being such as you before, but if you have a..." he examined the look in Lafayette's eyes and, cautiously, said, "...reproductive interest in me, I should assure you, it is dreadfully mis-aimed."

Cathy craftily greeted each guest as they one by one entered the Cantina. Already, people from an assortment of worlds were coming in. She beamed when she saw William come in. An regular. The Cantina always attracted recurring visitors. Find the Cantina twice, and it was almost guaranteed that person would be coming back a third or fourth time.

Brent got to work on the beer, the whisky, and the White Russian. He sighed. It was only to be a long day.

Finn looked at the pony more. "Umm...excuse me if this is a sensitive subject, but are you always a pony?"

I'm going off what chihuahua said about another area where random musical instruments may be summoned. This post will be edited as necessary.

William keeps one eye on Cyrus, who is completely frozen except for his eyes, which are staring at the other Cantina patrons in turn.

"Cyrus, I know they all look weird, just get the drinks, okay?"

"I already ordered them." Cyrus notices a side room, and, forgetting all about the drinks, enters to explore.

William sighs and picks up his coat so he can follow Cyrus. "What are you doing?"

"You know what would be nice? If there was a piano here—"

A grand piano appears out of thin air on a raised dais at the end of the room. William's eye twitches. This place never fails to creep the fuck out of him.

"Go get the drinks, Cyrus."

Cyrus rushes back to the bar. Soon, a German style country dance can easily be heard in the cantina.

edited 12th Sep '11 9:29:41 PM by snowfoxofdeath

The music area would be in the side room◊, for future reference. The stage is north of tables 13 and 14.

Cathy took a peak into the side room to see William's reaction to the music instruments on the stage. After a few of the patrons put on a performance last time, she decided to brush up the instrument room and compressed it into the side room. It took a little effort (the notes almost went physical), but if she wanted more regulars, additions must be made.

Kiora laughed grimly. "No, not usually. I should be human right now, but someone..." she jerked her thumb at Kohana, "Decided that I needed to be 'challenged.'"

To the small vampire she added, "If I could use chakra right now, I'd kill you and turn myself back, but since I can't... I'll have to live with it. For now."

Kohana grinned. "I've got an idea. No powers, no tricks. You fight me, pony versus vampire. You win, I change you back. You lose? You're gonna need to learn how to play that guitar of yours with hooves."

As they were seated, Gillian kept a sharp eye on the fellow in the odd overcoat. He nudged Jennings and began to whisper.

"Hey, you see that guy over there?" he asked.

Jennings peered over to where Gillian had indicated, and saw the aforementioned man in the overcoat; he noted that the man was armed to the teeth.

"Yeah, I see him, what about him?"

"I dunno man, he looks kinda... shifty if ya ask me."

Jennings grunted and raised his hand to beckon the waiter.

"Hey, can we get some bread here? I saw that some guys over there had bread."

The lieutenant polished off her shot of vodka and looked back over at the commander. He was only just beginning to rise from his former seat to sit at the table, he left his empty glass on the counter.

The commander seated himself next to the lieutenant, so that all of them were facing each other.

"Hey, ya made it!" Gillian said.

"What uh," he said, lowering his voice, "what d'ya make of that guy?" he said, gesturing towards the man in the overcoat.

The commander picked up a straw on the table and began to chew on it nonchalantly.

"I don't know, and I don't really care," he said, "If we leave him alone he'll leave us alone."

Welp, that's all for tonight folks, see ya tomorrow night.

The man raised his hand to catch the attention of the staff. "Here- s'cuze me! Yeah, I'll take a cold beer and side of steak please?" He drummed his fingers on the bartop, bored. He didn't see anyone he recognized, which was a shame. He had actually hoped that a certain purple-haired Uleane would be patronizing either the bar or it's customers.

It was a mystery how the matches were conducted. Then again, it was a mystery no one seemed particularly keen on answering. There was no point to such questions aboard the station. You ate, you slept, you fucked if you were lucky. You did that for long enough, then you woke up the next morning sword in hand, ready to say howdy-do to death or victory. That's how it always was, a simple, constant truth. There was no changing it. Which is why no one bothered to question it. It would be like waking up in the morning and asking why the sun had risen.

This of course made Gerard's plan of action upon waking up in front of the Cantina a very simple one. Step 1: Find motherfucker. Step 2: Beat the shit out of said motherfucker. Simple and to the point.

He dusted off his sullied rags, and strolled into the Cantina, chains wrapped about his fists. He stood in the door, surveying the room, and narrowed down his list of immediate suspects. There were the men with guns sitting at the far end of the bar, the grumpy looking sonuvabitch in the corner, the bartender herself, and what had to be the whitest guy he'd ever seen. Considering the likelihood of his opponent being equipped with a modern (or was it old-world now?) assault rifle, he scratched them off the list. As for the bartender, she seemed more focused on the patrons then on him. So that left Grumpy and Creepy.

He shrugged, strolled up to Creepy, and tapped him on the shoulder. Creepy turned, and face met fist.

edited 12th Sep '11 9:53:16 PM by KSPAM

Kokabiel turned to face Gerard. Watching him warily, he said, "yes? Do you want something from..."

When Gerard's fist got near his face, Kokabiel was rather glad he hadn't bothered with pain nerves. But the blow was deflected, and the land lady quickly made a mockery of his would-be attacker. Kokabiel was glad — it saved him wasting his time.

His face uninjured, Kokabiel returned to his water. Coolly, he added, "welcome to the Cosmic Cantina. You really shouldn't start fights here. Everybody's hiding something, after all."

Editted as per

edited 12th Sep '11 10:01:45 PM by KillerClowns

Jesus Christ, where was he?

Walking slowly, as if in a daze, Hector entered the bar. This sort of thing was unprecedented in all his years of experience. As he examined the room, Hector tugged his jacket over his shoulders. What was going on?

Still glancing around him, his eyes darting from one patron to the next, Hector pulled up a chair at the bar. "A beer, please."

Cathy noticed the punch right away.

Before the patron could make contact with skin, a force-field popped up between attacker and victim. The attacker got the worst of it, being pushed away toward the floor.

"No fighting!" Cathy called out cheerfully, whipping off a broom and causally went to brushing the floor. However, the way she held it emphasized her words. "Violence will not be tolerated."

Steak on a cart rolled across the Cantina. A glass of cold beer somehow found its place on one of the corners.

Cyrus bumps into Gerard and falls. "Uhm... sorry?" he nervously looks up and grins.

William hears the crash, but doesn't stop playing. That landlady doesn't allow violence in here, he remembers, and stops himself from reaching for his gun and keeps going. Cyrus should be able to handle himself perfectly as long as there isn't any violence.

His drink and steak having arrived by cart, the man lifted the tankard and it's frothy contents to his lips before he heard a loud THUD! followed by a noise of pain. He flinched, craning his neck around. Huh. It seemed like one of the bar's newcomers had tried to start some trouble.

"Hey newbie, take my advice. Don't try that again. It's not a good idea."

edited 12th Sep '11 10:05:22 PM by Gault

Gerard barely felt his punch fly back into his face. What he did feel was the bartender. Or more specifically, what the bartender had said.

No fighting? But this has to be, there's no other way... Gerard's mind tried to process the landlady's shocking but simple declaration but drew blanks. No answers, only accusations.

This has to be a trick. I've been duped. I'm under some kind of hypnosis. There's no other explanation. But the rules don't allow... He stopped for a moment to breath, and palmed his face in frustration. Rule 1: The rules change.

Yes, the rules changed. Was it possible he had been let go? Was he free? Reality, his reality, came flooding back to him, bit by bit. Starting with the simple feeling of shame that came with realizing how unflinchingly he'd tried to (quite literally) knock the pale man's block off.

"Oh shit. Oh. Oh shit. I am so sorry." He chuckled nervously, and wiped his slick face clean of the sweat. Was this truly it? The freedom he'd been searching for?

edited 12th Sep '11 10:17:53 PM by KSPAM

The situation in the Cantina having settled back into whatever must have passed for normalcy, the man returned to his drink, actually managing a sip this time. He washed it around the inside of his mouth for a few moments before swallowing. Not bad. Refreshing, and slightly bitter. He put down his tankard with a clank to try his steak, but stopped when he noticed a person sat near to the side of him putting down his drink as well. He turned to the man, noticing something about his behavior. The way he... held himself? Really, it was easier to notice simply because it was familiar, like so little else was in this place.

"... Do I know you?"

edited 12th Sep '11 10:36:28 PM by Gault

Well whoopdy shit. You get free and you immediately punch the first sane human being you've seen in months. Real fucking smart.

Sighing, he resigned himself to the bar, sitting down front and center. "Give me a pitcher of beer."

And thus started another night of hardcore binge drinking. Oh how things have changed.

"And at the count of three, we enter. Hope this is a bank and we had a shotgun...three."

The alchemist and his pupil entered the place at the same time, quitely enough to not to be recognizable.

"By Fleming, this place is crowded." Marcus whispered to his pupil. Hyun Soo quickly scanned the room and spotted, the assumed staffs included, total 14 people and one pony.

"A horse? What is this, a set of Seth Mac Farlane sketch? I bet it's named Sarah Jessica Parker."

"I think that's a pony." Hyun Soo replied, rolling his eyes at the alchemist's cheap joke.

edited 12th Sep '11 10:50:06 PM by dRoy

Hector glanced at the man sitting next to him. His face was thin, worn, and he didn't have any recollection of seeing it before. "Um, no."

Slowly, Hector felt an easy, well-meaning smile creep onto his face. That bartender had already done something, and Hector had to determine what. "But I do happen to be lost. Do you know where this place is, exactly?"

edited 12th Sep '11 10:50:33 PM by Chubert

Cyrus picks up the drinks and scampers back to William. "No one beat me up," he says wonderingly, opening the bottle of whiskey for him.

"Landlady's pretty strict about fighting." William pauses his playing to sip the drink. "Just as good as I remember. You want me to play anything special?"

"How about that thing Violet wrote?"

"Sure. Get some food soon but start a conversation if you'd like." William takes one more gulp and turns back to the piano, beginning a melancholy tune in three beat time with low chords complimenting a slow melody. By the time Cyrus is at the bar again and has tripped and crashed into several unoccupied stools, the song has sped up, becoming playful.

As Violet called it, a wistful old merry go round. William quietly hums along.

There's currently 12 adult men, 1 woman/the bartender, a girl, and a pony, and there's total six tables, correct?

"Maybe later," Kiora said, picking up her glass in her teeth and tossing the drink back. "I actually don't feel like fighting right now. Besides, I don't think we could fight here even if we wanted."

The vampire nodded and ordered a bottle of wine. She looked around the restaurant and slid from her stool. "I'm gonna check out the music, you coming?"

Kiora shook her head and folded her forelegs on the bar in front of herself. "I'll be here, getting hammered."

Kohana shrugged and left, to the side room, where she sat upon a table and watched the man playing the piano.