Discovery Gaming Community

There had not been many customers for many days. One had come once, but left after his free drink. Another came later, though he unfortunately, had one too many and was taken back to his ship and jettisoned.

A lady sat at a table to the left, close to the front of the bar. She had simple clothes, yet with a large, furry jacket. A white parasol lay by her feet, slightly damp as some of the ice began to melt. A small boy was with her too, no older than 10 years of age in appearance. He sat quietly, swinging his legs on the frozen chair sipping a strawberry milkshake. The lady knew it was not the place for him, but there was nowhere else to go. She had been here the longest. She was always here.

At a table on the far right side sat a man at a table with a briefcase. He sat silently, stirring and sipping his drink occasionally. He had arrived an entire week beforehand, quietly returning to his ship to sleep. At his table, a reserved sign lay still placed. Reserved for him, apparently. He spoked to nobody but to whom he needed to speak to. The Briefcase was labelled with a cheap post-it-note with nothing written but "10m" written on it. He had only one person to see and would not see anybody else.

The boy got up stretched and yawned before sitting back down again.
"What's wrong?" the lady asked.
"Nothing... Just tired. Nobody came today. Nobody ever comes" replied the boy.
"But they will come. And we'll wait until they do, and greet them with many welcomes" said the lady.

They both looked over to the dark man in with the briefcase. His bowler hat was tipped downward covering his eyes. Half an hour later, he began to snore. He had fallen asleep.

"Sir, your weapons please."

A cloaked figure stepped up to the doorway, and turned to the guard. He reached into his robes and pulled out a sword the size of his body, and placed it on the table to the side of the guard. The figure reached back, and pulled out a plasma pistol, then a knife, then another sword, then several packs of C4. The guard looked at the stash of weapons that lay on the table, jaw-dropped. He turned back to the man, shaking a bit now.

"S.. Sir.. I can't help.. b.. but wonder, are you going to war or something?!"

"Was. Was in a war. Now I'm coming home.. But.. Where is it? I.. Don't remember.. "

The robed figure adjusted his cloak once more, making sure most of his face was covered. The only thing that could be seen were his piercing red eyes. He stepped forward, quickly glancing at the few people in the bar. The figure sat at the corner of the bar, farthest from the entrance. He sat still, staring at the table in front of him, and ignoring the bit of cold he was feeling.

A woman with short red-brown hair walks into the bar. She hands her single laser pistol to the guard, walking up to the main bar and asking for a shot of SCRA vodka. After downing the shot, she turns around and looks about the room, noting everyone she sees.

The snoring had stopped now, for several hours. The man stirred a warm cup of coffee in his corner, reading a slightly out-of-date newspaper.
The lady and the boy sat at their table. The lady had begun singing softly to herself, as she knit herself an odd looking creation. The boy sat still, his head on the table, resting quietly.

The lady looked at the new arrival, pursing her lips slightly, before breaking into a ear-to-ear grin. She looked over, and waved. She could sense the awkward feeling she was getting from him, but nonetheless, this was the first customer in days.

"Welcome, welcome!" she cried happily.
"Well boy, say hello" she snapped at the young boy.
"Hii.." said the boy shyly from over the room rising from his slumber, staring into his now-empty glass of milkshake.

The lady rose to meet the newcomer, tripped over the chairs of a nearby table and regained her balance, offering to shake his hand.
"Do come and sit with us", she said in a very bretonian accent. "We're rather lonely.."
She faltered for a moment, noticing the sudden dark figure with a briefcase in his hand that had sprung up next to her. She looked between the two new figures, sighed, and returned to her table, murmuring something about 'men' under her breath.

He smiled.

"I believe we had an appointment? You're slightly late."
He gestured to his table.
"Would you care to join me?"

--

The lady looked around the room, spotting another newcomer. Whilst she enjoyed embarrassing serious men, women were another thing all together. Matters between women could turn into a bitch fight sooner than one might think. Unlike other women, this one had quite an air of authority. The parasol lady had been missing woman company - none had turned up within the past month, and the last slapped her in the face and threw a glass at her when she tried casually talking. She would play this one completely and utterly safe, and see if she could make a new friend.

She gestured to the bartender, pointing out the empty glass. The bartender rose slowly, walking to the table with the newcomer with a refill and refreshment Turning back, she realised something was missing.

The boy, bored, had already gone to meet the new woman.

"Hello miss" said the boy. "What's your name?"
The lady with the parasol stood up, snapped at the boy and sat down again.
"Oh" said the boy. "That's right. Welcome to the Makeshift Bar"

The lady with the parasol slapped her forehead with her hand looking down into her almost-empty drink. She had meant for him to return to his table, not greet the newcomer.

The cloaked man stood from his table, and nodded to the other fellow with the briefcase. They both sat down, staring at each other.

"What is it you want? Do I know you?"

The darkened figure sat down with the man at his table, offering him a small glass of vodka.

"Do you not remember me? I had supposed not. Though you are here, so you must remember to some extent." said the man.
"This is what I had for you if I failed. But I have not, and have been here waiting for you. And yes, I'm sure I have the right person. You haven't changed a bit." stated the man plainly, staring the other in the eyes.
He withdrew the briefcase from under the table, opening it, revealing 10 million standard sirius credits.

"This was for you, if I failed. But I have not. If you remember that is. I don't think you will, it was a long time ago. We were younger then. But it was only now that we meet so far ahead of time." said the man.

"Back when we were younger this was a lot of money, but now it seems a reminiscent of a forgotten tube of synth paste lying in the gutter. Though if you still want the money, I have an important task for you. It shall not take you long, minutes in fact, if you do it well. Interested?" asked the man.

The man got up and refilled his drink by himself, leaving credits by the counter. The barman might be old, but he knew when people were stealing and would not hesitate to use force. A large lump on his head had made him learn that lesson.

He sat back down with a full drink, staring once again into the other man's eyes.

The figure tried to remember what exactly he meant by all this, but he could not. Though upon hearing his request of a task, he chuckled a bit.

"Heh.. No no, thank you, I'm good on cre-"

He had his hand in his pocket, about to show the millions of credits he had. But there were none to boast about.

"Alright. What do you want?"

The man with the briefcase smiled to himself. The new figure didn't change much at all, did he.

As you can see, there are many people in this bar. Find out their names for me, especially the lady and the child, and you shall have your credits. said the briefcase man with a slight smile.

The man with the briefcase stood up slowly, walking over to the bartender who had finished his work and was standing behind the bar. He handed over the briefcase.

He is watching you now, as am I. said the no-longer briefcase-wielding man, in a slightly creepy manner.

The man with the briefcase sat down at his table once again, finishing his second drink.

The barman continued with his work, his light-sensors barely functioning.
Although he might not be watching, silently, every camera within the bar zoomed in on the new, dark figure - the one with the sword.

This will be fun. he whispered to himself, gesturing to the barman to give him another drink.

The cloaked man sat, thinking. He looked around, examining the few customers here. He had accepted the task, and knew who he was going to start with. The dark figure sat at the bar, staring at the robot bartender.

"Excuse me, bartender, what's your name?"