Mark Dixon and David O'Brien enter the bar, visibly drunk and smell of rum, with a huge grin on their faces, they slowly approach the bartender with the entire bar eyeing them, obviously something was going to happen. As they approached the bartender instead of ordering the drinks, they both decided to stand up on the counter despite the barkeeps protest.
David O'Brien started shouting while holding up his bottle of rum triumphantly, Mark Dixon was visibly holding quite a credit chip with a noticeable sum of money on it. LISTEN UP BOYS!*he raises his bottle of rum triumphantly* We, *points to Mark then himself*, just did something that we figured deserves celebration, today, in dublin, we managed to rob Lucy Silsbury of the BPA herself! You should of have seen the look on her face... *hic* Suddenly, silence befell the whole bar, it wasnt quite what everyone was expecting when they came in to have a drink, nobody really knew how to react.
Next, Mark coughed loudly to break the silence, and started shouting himself Since she kindly decided to donate 200,000 for our repair bill *loud laughter* we figured, heck, we cant spend this alone, so we're ordering two rounds of rum for everyone in the bar! Make sure ye thank the next Police officer ye meet eh? The sound that roared throughout the bar as Mark stopped talking was hard to describe, it was full of low pitched bassy cheers, laughter, and utter disbelief. Mark and David both stepped off the counter, paid the bartender and sat down at an empty table in a dark corner...
David chuckled heartily as he sat down with Mark, putting his feet up on the table and taking a long swig of his rum before speaking.
"Well, the lads'll be chuffed about that for a while, eh? Still..." He gave Mark a slightly more serious look, "I still say we should'a killed 'er there and then. She's been enough of a pain in the arse to us she deserves it."
He took another drink, studying the contensts for a moment after before looking up.
"After all, we just humiliated her...she's gonna be more determined now. Dead people don't hold no grudges, ye ken."
Mark let out a slight laugh... before slamming his tankard of rum on the table Lad, i know full well what yer sayin, but dead people cant pay us... Sure, you're right, dead people hold no grudges, but they dun hold no credits either you get what I'm sayin? He took another sip and started talking againBesides, what good would it have done us? She had a freelancer on her side back there, and next to a battleship... they woulda retreived their escape pods immediately and got them flying in some new ships, she would hate us either way. Doesn't matter what we did, 'sides, it's more humiliating to rob them. Theres a reason yer still more or less a rookie, over here, money is all that matters, if you can get that money over dead bodies, then by all means, ye do that, but i sure as heck dont know how you're going to do that... He took another sip of rum...
Grumbling, David put his tankard on the table, conceding the point. "Aye...I guess you're right. Still, if I meet her again...I might not be so easy with my trigger finger. I know it's bad for getting money. Call a burning hatred of the BPA."
He took a drink from his tankard, finishing it, and grunted in annoyance, pulling himrself up, and walking slowly, swaying, over to the bar to get another drink, witha cry of, "More rum!"
Jack walks into the bar and realizes just how quiet it is. I'll fix that. he thinks, and springs into action. First, he unholsters his pistol and fires a blast into the ceiling. Then, he grabs a bottle and smashes it over some prospect's head. This, of course, signals that everyone drop their drinks and start a massive bar fight, which is exactly what happened.
' Wrote:This thread is so stupid that a bird sitting on a nearby tree just EXPLODED.
The room was dark, as he preferred at this time of day.
Thomas Anderson was onboard the Leviathan, alone in his room. The ship was unusually quiet that day. In his hand he held his favorite pistol, the first item he had stolen since becoming a Buccaneer. A lot of great things have happened, and a lot of not so great things have happened since being in the Buccaneers. Heh, he even befriended a Bounty Hunter in his time of serving with Captain Morgan's crew onboard the Leviathan.
He seen people rise above the rest, and he's seen people thrown out of the airlock and keelhauled throw a jumphole. The thought still brought a smile to his, for once, sober face. He held the pistol carefully, turning it around and examining it in his hand, remembering his past experiences, and how he became the Captain of the Buccaneers, unopposed no-less, when Captain Morgan was captured. However, that had all slipped away in that small moment of glory, and plunder.
"We had a good run haven't we?" He said, seemingly talking to himself. "Good times tend t' end like this."
The Buccaneers weren't dead...but the golden days were over with, at least for now. He raised the pistol slowly to the side of his head, singing as he did. "With a yo ho ho...the Buccaneers sail Leeds, plunderin' your gold t' make the Cap'n smile with glee."
Then there was silence...a cold dead silence from within the room.
The old Buccaneer dive on Trafalgar was dark and quiet.
The Junkers had yet to reclaim the space in the cargo bays so the room sat empty, dust lined every surface.
A scuffling sound from the darkness kicked up dust and the unseen figure coughed and choked for a moment as it stumbled through the darkness.
After a bit of banging on the walls looking for a switch the lighting flared back into life, illuminating the room as each set of bulbs came on.
*Thummm* The old bar, made of crates and wooden boards
*Thummm* Miss-matched boxes, chairs and tables that made up the seating
*Thummm* The open space to one side, often used for brawling
*Thummm* Mick Johnson stood by the open door
"Weeeeeeeere back..."
' Wrote:0-499 posts: Your posts will be completely and utterly ignored. 500-999 posts: People will read your posts, but will never care for the content. 1000-2000 posts: Your posts will be read, your points may be considered, if you're lucky. 2001+ posts and custom title:Your opinion matters.
A dry laugh sounded just down the hall from Mick, where David O'Brien stood leaning against the wall.
"That's pretty cliche, Mick." he chuckled. He lifted himself and strolled casually over to the other buccaneer. "But it's true, I guess."
He pondered for a second, and rubbed his chin.
"Now all's we gotta do is get the other drunken idiots back here..."
"A quick response. Yeah, we do need to do somthing about this place. Its a dump, and not even the dump it used to be"
Mick smacked his hand on a stool and wafted away the resulting dust cloud before sitting down on it.
"We need some prospects to clean it up so its just as well I told the Recuiter to start picking up dross again. I imagine some gulible crooks will be along soon. See if you guys can get ahold of any of the old crew. We need Morris and the old hants back in here."
' Wrote:0-499 posts: Your posts will be completely and utterly ignored. 500-999 posts: People will read your posts, but will never care for the content. 1000-2000 posts: Your posts will be read, your points may be considered, if you're lucky. 2001+ posts and custom title:Your opinion matters.