The Dropship Serenity Bar and Grill
Posted 22 March 2012 - 03:34 AM
Posted 22 March 2012 - 08:30 AM
((OOC: Dueling Accents FTW!))
Posted 22 March 2012 - 09:32 AM
Due to recent assassination attempts, flowery hats will be set aflame on sight. And possibly those bearing them.
Posted 22 March 2012 - 10:40 AM
Banjos....Banjos?!?! What you be gettin' at wit' dat huh che'? Don't ya know it be all 'bout 'de bagpipes, accordions, and fiddles?
Posted 22 March 2012 - 11:23 AM
Posted 22 March 2012 - 02:32 PM
I'm just here doing my part for inter-mercenary relations! Feel free to hop over to the GDL bar and scare up some Dire Pauls for hunting!
Posted 22 March 2012 - 06:56 PM
Glad to see the C.O. has recovered from the 'incident' with the Skjaldborg. Even if none of us remember what happened.
Edited by lonewolfsyndrome, 22 March 2012 - 07:05 PM.
Posted 23 March 2012 - 01:19 AM
Azman, 23 march 3049
Edited by Nor Azman, 23 March 2012 - 01:22 AM.
Posted 23 March 2012 - 04:39 AM
That is, unless you enjoy eating 'Good Dogs', lol!
Posted 23 March 2012 - 11:11 AM
Posted 23 March 2012 - 02:53 PM
But I'm not so fond of folk knowing my boot size before we've exchanged pleasantries at army's length.
Also, having a special on this green stuff we uncovered in an old transport. Don't know what it is though. Anyone here read ancient French?
Posted 23 March 2012 - 06:43 PM
Posted 26 March 2012 - 08:47 PM
Laddie... are ye feelin' alright? Ye didna drink coolant again thinkin' it was green beer?
Posted 26 March 2012 - 09:16 PM
Browncoats? Can't say I've ever heard of ya. Well, there are always the holovids that bring ya up now and again, though the level of favor towards you guys is dependent on the current state of political affairs. Anyone wanna 'suade this wanderer one way or the other? I don't leave for Epsilon Indi for another two days. I got time, and... *pats wad of C-bills* money.
<<OOC: Geaux Tiger? LSU ftw! I graduate from there this semester!>>
Posted 27 March 2012 - 09:57 AM
We've called browncoats after our one piece of uniform, a long leather duster. As for that stack of C-bills, tuck them away. Everyone gets their first and last drink on the Commander.
The IMC is a place for the wanderers and nomads, those what can't stand the dusty soil or the smog darkened skies. We take to the deep, clean cold of the black between. We fight for the fella who pays our bills, buys our parts. But we fight to make these little planet and moons better for the folks that live there. Some of us fight for different things, every man has his own yarn to weave, but we all fight together.
So welcome to this old derelict dropship and on behalf of the men and women who fill her halls....
Next rounds on you! *Raises a glass* To Health, Fortune, And A Paying Job!!
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