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+---- Thread: The Green Hell Beergarden (/showthread.php?tid=6728)
The Green Hell Beergarden - Coldzero - 05-05-2011
Hikari smiled and without a work turned around and started pulling him towards the launch bays. She stopped at a point where they'd have to part ways. "Arigato Julian-san.." She smiled and gave him a light kiss on the cheek before blushing and bowing to him. She stood up and smiled again then made her way to her ship.
The Green Hell Beergarden - Osilon - 05-05-2011
Julian smiled as she went, then turned around and went back to the hangar. His ship had had minor repairs done, namely, picking the various shrapnel out of the hull. It was laced with what looked like scars, bubbling lines of metal sealing the welded holes. He walked towards his ship, to meet Hikari in space.
The Green Hell Beergarden - Damien McEwan - 05-06-2011
Rainier Lahash walks a long, dark tunnel towards a dim and creepy green light.
At the end, he stands at Hell's gate; staring down the barrel of a gun.
'What's your business lad?' asked the doorman.
"I was invited by a man named Scarhand."
'Name?'
"Rainier Lahash"
'Aye then, let me check the list.'
Keeping his gun aimed between the eyes of the visitor, the Doorman calls downstairs on the comm:
'...yeah, got a Gaul up here named Ren-yay Lahash saying he was invited by some bloke named Scarhand...'
'...oh, that's him? Ok then, sending one down the pit.'
The doorman holsters his weapon.
'Alright scroot, you're clear to go down. Mr. McEwan I'm told is pulling a shift over in Trees Lounge. Exit the lift, follow the path towards the park, then turn left & follow the sound of the water. Once you enter that cavern, follow the lochside path to the wall and you'll know the pub when you see it. Oh! and also, make sure your harness properly latches for the ride down.
"Merci Sir" Rainer said politely, relieved to no longer have a gun to his head.
He entered the large circular elevator, picked one of the many seats lining the walls, pulled the padded shoulder bars over him until he heard the click of the lock, and after a few seconds and an automated warning over the speakers, he dropped like a stone down the pit.
The Green Hell Beergarden - Damien McEwan - 05-08-2011
Rainier enters Trees Lounge and every eye in the place looks towards the door for a quick glance & then returns to their business.
He walks past a man passed out on table five...He walks past table seven where two men are playing a drinking game that involves a large venomous scorpion.
He continues up to the bar and is properly ignored by the bartender.
ahem the gaul coughs politely with no effect.
"Pardon" he says with his thick Gallic accent after a long moment passes. "I am searching for Monsieur Scarhand. I am told he is here"
"Trees Law: Drink or be gone" the bartender said without looking up from the book he was reading.
"Absinthe then, s'il vous plait"
The Green Hell Beergarden - Damien McEwan - 05-08-2011
"Absinthe then, s'il vous plait"
At that, the usually quiet pub erupts with wall to wall laughter from all of its patrons, save for the one passed out.
One of the men at table seven, the one whose turn it was to have the scorpion resting on the back of his hand, screamed bloody murder as the ruckus startled the six-legged creature into digging it's stinger deep into the mans skin.
He immediately stood, and attacked the Gaul at the bar as the poison quickly started to swell his face and arms.
"Yoo fookin' schmeg schucker!!" he yelled with a swelling tongue as he began pounding the man at the bar with his swelling fists.
Once the crack of nosebone was heard, the bartender hurled a glass mug at the head of the stung man wailing ontop of the Gaul & he collapsed, unconscious.
"On yer feet lad!" the bartender said to the Gaul with an amused chuckle.
"For that show, yer welcome to a free pint of the house brew!"
He draws a flat brew from the rusty pipes on the left & slaps it on the bar in front of Rainer after he picks himself up out from underneath his attacker.
"Best down this bit 'o piss & go off in the hopper and reset your sniffer straightlike."
The broken nosed Gaul politely gulps down the free rusty bock, & very shortly after, quickly runs to the loo to vomit it all back up as as a new round of boisterous patron laughter echoes in his ears behind him.
The Green Hell Beergarden - Damien McEwan - 05-09-2011
He burst through the door and collapsed to his knees at the nearest toilet and went rigid as his jaw locked open and began retching up the worst beer he had ever tasted.
After a couple rounds of that, he turned away from the bowl and sat on the floor, leaning against one side of the stall, taking a moment to catch his breath.
Dripping sweat from exertion and nausea, his node bleeding liberally, and his eyes stinging from the some of the vomit droplets that splashed up and caught him in the retinas, he turns to the sound of boots clicking on the tiles & sees a blurry silhouette standing over him.
"Hi Renny" it said with a familiar voice. "Having a bad day are ya?"
The Green Hell Beergarden - Kontrazec (Somni) - 05-13-2011
[color=#FFFFFF]As Jonah strode into the Hell, he looked odd, for he was not dressed as usual. His dreds have been tied back in a ponytail of sort, he wore a thick, brown long leather coat that would usually be described as slightly foxed, although it looked as if it might have been badgered, wolved and possibly beared as well. He headed straight for the message board, typed something into his PDA, and rushed out, his boots ringing relentlessly against the cold metal grates.
Whoever approached to inspect, could read the following;
Quote:[color=#009900]Need able hands to survey Gaia's geography and biosphere. Two volunteers needed, rewards will be, other than seeing Gaia first hand and contributing to what Sirius knows of it, a whole month off upon return, with full merits. The first two responding will be chosen, first come first serve. Hurry it up, the Nature's Last Hope's counting on you.
-Chief Blint, NLH
The Green Hell Beergarden - Dusty Lens - 09-30-2011
Funny that the last time he had sauntered up to this particular rock the situation had been rather rough. As memory served he had eventually wandered off with some good enough drinks in his gut but the greater situation generally feeling unresolved.
That had been all good and well, but now it was a money thing. That wouldn't do. There was a boatload of angsty pilots who didn't blow things up out of charity. Violence begets regrets. Regrets beget something to drown the sorrows. Sorrows don't drown cheap.
On the note of something something violence there was every hope that the notion of being shot upside the face by some angsty reds was a bit lower this time around. With that in mind he left his sidearm in the cockpit of his fancypants Snubnose. Not looking like he was going to shoot a body might make things a tad more even keeled.
With that notion in mind, perhaps with a haunting edge of reservation, he made his way down a fair few levels to 66 and sauntered his skinny arse into the Green Hell, to the bar, to the first person that mattered.
Yet another whiskey if you could. Rocks. Whatever's shiniest on the topmost shelf. Keep the tab open. Rather wide open.
The Green Hell Beergarden - Marburg - 10-03-2011
![[Image: DimiID2011.png]](http://i263.photobucket.com/albums/ii151/Erinloch/DimiID2011.png)
ID: Damien McEwan
"Another Samhain No.9 coming right up Sir..." the bartender said as he begain to pour a double. "...Now, would you like this one with a waterback or greenback?"
Dimi knew the Reavers were sharp, so it only took part of a moment for him to see the glint of understanding reflect the light of his customer's eyes.
"Mr. Grim is hosting a member of the Cambridge media establishment at the moment and sends his apologies for his absence. My name is Damien McEwan and I'm here to speak on behalf of the 'loch at his request."
Dimi pauses to read the Reaver's body language, and witnessing no major resistance in face and posture, continues to speak:
"My credentials can be found in the BPA criminal database, In my dossier with the BAF, Bretonian corporate archives, whatever. Are you willing to accept me as the Reavers proxy to the cell?
With a misfits grin, the Gaian nudges the full shotglass towards the Reaver with the neck of the bottle in his hand, poised and ready to pour another.
Dimi knew the Reavers were sharp, so it only took part of a moment for him to see the glint of understanding reflect the light of his customer's eyes.
"Mr. Grim is hosting a member of the Cambridge media establishment at the moment and sends his apologies for his absence. My name is Damien McEwan and I'm here to speak on behalf of the 'loch at his request."
Dimi pauses to read the Reaver's body language, and witnessing no major resistance in face and posture, continues to speak:
"My credentials can be found in the BPA criminal database, In my dossier with the BAF, Bretonian corporate archives, whatever. Are you willing to accept me as the Reavers proxy to the cell?
With a misfits grin, the Gaian nudges the full shotglass towards the Reaver with the neck of the bottle in his hand, poised and ready to pour another.
The Green Hell Beergarden - Dusty Lens - 10-03-2011
About effing time. If this had been his second visit here without a whisper he'd like as not gotten all manner of fussy.
I could care less if you were the manifested avatar of Gaia herself with golden hair aflutter over her lovely nude frame so long as you were able to settle the Front's rather troublesome tab.
He wagged the drink to and fro.
Unless you think this drink's gonna cost me the amount that you good folk owe.