26 replies to this topic

[Blair]

Coming out of the store room, his hand steady once again, the flash of memory quickly fading, Blair stares across the quickly crowded room to see a familiar figure tapping furiously onto a datapad. Quickly rummaging under the counter for his best bottle of Rasalhague Vodka, he makes his way over to the table and fills up Kyll's glass, then one for himself, and shoots Kyll a smile.

"Been a long time since I couldn't have myself one of these. To tell the truth, there are days I miss being that innocent." Blair picks up his glass of vodka, peering at the prism of colors bouncing off the glass. "I suppose that's the way it has to be for people like us. We give up our innocence to make sure other people get to keep theirs for just a little bit longer." Blair downs the drink in one quick gulp, and shakes his head as the burning liquid flows through him. He stands silently for a moment, contemplative. Regaining his composure, he flashes Kyll another hearty grin, and with a chuckle, returns to tend the bar, leaving the bottle of Rasalhauge Vodka behind.

[Alistair Steiner]

The young officer stands outside of the bar--well across the street, in fact, and observes it. Skippy's Fern Bar? What a name for a place. He crosses his arms, giving the area aroudn the bar a once-over. Solaris was known for its gladiatorial arenas where the deadliest war machines in the known galaxy would duke it out for the entertainment of billions across the Inner Sphere. Of course, those who had actually been to Solaris knew that the back-streets, and bars like this one tended to be more dangerous than the arenas. Not just for the usual reasons, as Solaris was cosmopolitan. Members of all five Great Houses were on the same planet, most likely in the same city. Tensions could flare into open conflict at the drop of a hat.

Alistair shrugged, and straightened his off-duty uniform. Though it showed no rank, the color was obvious Lyran blue, and the sole insignia on his shoulder was that of the 4th Skye Rangers. Idly, he touches the heavy, boxy sidearm on his hip, a prototype weapon he had specifically requested in order to combat armored infantry, should he be forced to eject in the field. The Gauss handcannon was heavy, unstable, and carried only four shots. Because of this, he also carried a standard issue laser pistol as a backup, or when facing less-armored opponents. Again, on the back streets of Solaris, either could be an issue.

He waits for a speeding hovercar to zip by before walking across the street and into the establishment. His brown eyes scan the area. A bar, right in the middle. A small group of people sitting there. Easiest to socialize, but with his back to the door. Dangerous. A few corner booths remained open, which would be safe and secluded, but would prevent any sort of social interaction. That normally suited him fine, but for this trip he needed to make contacts. He needed to get the lay of the land, the names and faces that would soon be on the battlefield, either with or against him. As he pondered, he noticed... ferns? Definitely ferns.

A waiter approaches him, saying something about weapons not being allowed. The young man nodded and handed the waiter his custom sidearm first, the man surprised at it's weight. Alistair smiles, "It's worth about as much as an AgroMech. Please don't misplace it." He hands the man his laser pistol as well, and decides to head to the bar, taking a seat a few stools down from a pair of women, glancing at the tri-vid before clearing his throat, "I'll have a tea."

[Badfinger]

Gives me --hic-- anothers --hic-- shot of that turdbines --hic-- oils you called --hic-- hooch plzzzz!

[Ramblin]

Below the worn and rediculous wide brim black leather hat stands Haywood "Ramblin" Herrmann.
His long sleave blue denim button up shirt, cut off denim shorts and, black high top infantry boots complete a look that says either "this guy is one missile short of an alpha strike" or "This tourist is lost, maybe I should help him." A look of what might be confusion add's credence to either thought. Ramblin scans the crowd. Only the direct gaze of his steal blue eyes betray him as anything but a confused semi-senile tourist as he sizes up anyone who looks his way.

"Any weapons to check sir?" ask's a pleasantly plump, curly haired waitress, as she makes her way towards him.

Patting his pockets and mumbling Ramblin pulls out an ancient lighter and hands it to the girl.

"I believe you can keep this sir" she says with a patient smile.

Ramblin just gazes at her for a few awkward seconds and in one quick motion palms the lighter and slides it back into his pocket.
As he begins to scan the crowd again he notices a figure sitting alone, smoking a cigar.
A noticeable change in his demeanor causes the young waitress to look in the same direction. As she looks back she sees Ramblin reach down to his boot and pull out what looks like a very small blaster.

"Maybe you should go ahead and take this from me girly" he says in a cold monotone voice.

"I will seat myself but, if you could bring me a bottle of Steiner Stout I would appreciate it."
Pointing he continues "I will be over there in that booth, when my boys get here I would appreciate it if you would send them over."

"How will I know your boys" curly asks.

"You will know" was his only reply.

With that Ramblin walks to the booth he indicated and slides in. He turns his back to the wall and swings his legs up on the bench too. Facing the lone figure with the cigar Ramblin pulls the wide brim of his hat down to cover his eyes a little.
Skipy's is a place where old grudges continued, will get you jumped by everyone in the bar. Fights are not permitted in any way shape or form and violation of this one simple rule WILL get you killed. What is obvious to anyone paying attention however is that Ramblin didnt leave his memories at the threshold...

Edited by Ramblin, 17 June 2012 - 12:38 AM.

[Ramblin]

Several minutes goes by...

"BLAIR!!! WHERE IS MY FRAKIN STOUT!!!"

[Blair]

A short, bounding man with burning red hair approaches from behind the bar. "Ach, if'n yer lookin' fer Blair, 'fraid ye missed him by nearly a week! He's off-world, some kinda 'business opportunity'. Hah!" The man uses 'air quotes' when mentioning that business opportunity.

"My name's MacDunn. Blair left me in charge while he's away, mostly because I practically live here anyways! So, let me get that water ... er Steiner Stout fer ya, eh?" MacDunn winks and bellows a hearty laugh at his own joke while he prepares Ramblin's drink.

[Haywood]

Bump! (with the hopes that those who know what Skippy's Fern Bar is will post)