ZOMBIE FORUMS

It's a stinking, shambling corpse grotesquely parodying life.
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PostPosted: Tue Mar 20, 2007 7:45 pm 
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Clay walks into the bar for the first time in a long time. Sure, it's the same old clientele. He ducks as a wadded up ball of the laws of physics comes flying through the doorway at head level.

Things have changed, but they aren't different. Everything is the same as it ever was, but moreso. Things have become intensified out in the world, idealized as the minor conceits andmitigations of life fall by the wayside and the characters become true, purified, one might say: Distilled.

That Ironically brings to the fore the subject of the moment. That foible of man, that property of existence, the quintessential distilled property. Alcohol, that is the thing.

He orders a drink, one so vile, so tinged with the madness of a century gone by, so terrible in aspect that the mention of it draws reaction from those who have never heard it by name. Absinthe.

The bar stocks a supply of Black Absinthe. An eldritch liquor with a picture on the label that does not bear looking at for long and does not admit to memory, but leaves a deep unease in the observer and a suggestion of tentacles creeping from the windows of a vast dead city raised by an ancient forgotten race the may have walked on earth a million years ago if, indeed, they posessed legs. Fermented in darkness, distilled by infernal fires, aged in briarwood casks with wormwood which has never seen the light of day.

Clay motions for his bottle and produces a simple small earthenware cup. No glass will stand the touch of the drink but that it will twist into unnatural angles which beguile and draw the eye in endless tracks in a mad fascination, seeming at once to reveal and obscure through hints and subtleties the endless reaches of the courts of chaos.

He poured the drink and drank, with the knowing air of one who has walked the worlds of science and magic, of Sanity and Order, Madness and Chaos, and that the drink distilled from the dark places in the huddled corners of reality effect him but little.

Here he is known, the Traveller, Hearer of tales, Teller of stories, Speaker to Demons, Angels, Gods, and Men, Survivor of Apocalypses, Ragnaroks, and Armagheddons, Preserver of the Remnants.

Perhaps he comes to tell a tale, perhaps to seek one, perhaps to save, perhaps to be the prophet of doom.

Soon he sees one Avatar of death, a mad old friend and a demon of lust and taking a second drink, he approaches.

_________________
We used to play for silver, Now we play for life.
One's for sport and one's for blood
At the point of a knife, Now the die is shaken
Now the die must fall,
There ain't a winner in this game
Who don't go home with all, Not with all...


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PostPosted: Wed Mar 21, 2007 2:35 am 
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Shin's eyes snap open. He'd drifted off at the bar, apparently. How long had he been out? Not long. The dull screams wrack Shin's mind, sending a notable shiver down the death god's spine before fading into nothingness. The screams of the forsaken. The wails of the damned. How long it has taken the death god to drown out their cries. Still, they make a sound sleep ever elusive. No rest for the wicked, as they say.

A familiar feeling. An air of nostalgia. Shin's eyes meet the shady figure as he continues his approach. His mind is a blank, but the certainty of having met this person before nags at him.

With a mute laugh of mild amusement, Shin rises to his feet, brushing a lock of hair from his view.

"What an interesting gathering of people," the death got remarks to himself before greeting the nameless patron.

"Pray that you don't think me rude, but I have the most peculiar feeling that we've met before..."

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PostPosted: Wed Mar 21, 2007 5:24 am 
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Clay allowed a smile to play across his lips like a passing shadow and, taking a bar stool near shinigami but leaving one between them, pulls another small black ceramic cup from his coat. Placing the cup in front of Shinigami and repositioning his own in front of himself, he pours the liquor, filling them to their 3 ounce capacity.

"It happens, O Shade, that we have met along the way. We have walked among men, we spirits, for very long indeed. Still, we meet one another along the way. I have known Gods and Demons. I have loved in my turn, women and godesses. And you, O psychopomp, you do not recall this weary and eternal traveller among the stars and planes and spaces between Atoms. How very curious. Drink old friend and remember, and I shall tell you a tale, if you have none to tell."

Clay lifted his cup and drank and his eyes, as yet unglimpsed in the shadows of his hat, closed for an instant as the drink of madmen recalled memory from a time and place that had no frame of reference for a being who walked in time and the endless dimensions without care for boundary. And yet it was a time, and a place.

_________________
We used to play for silver, Now we play for life.
One's for sport and one's for blood
At the point of a knife, Now the die is shaken
Now the die must fall,
There ain't a winner in this game
Who don't go home with all, Not with all...


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PostPosted: Wed Mar 21, 2007 6:03 pm 
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Adric's muscles begin to relax as the the pills and the whisky dull the ache at the back of his head. He chats idly with Band for a few minutes while simultaneously trying to ignore the swirling patterns just behind his eyes every time he glances at the stranger in the knit hat. Altered probability always snarled up the pattern and made it hard to think like a person. like something that exists in causality. If he wasn't careful, he'd probably forget how time worked again.

As he tries to focus on how the real world works (a unique challenge in the bar and grill at the best of times, particularly for him since he's never quite sure which real world to refer to) a familiar figure enters the bar.

He is clothed in a long dusty trenchcoat and shifting shadows, crowned by a Stetson Cavalry hat, although mad just refferred to it as the man's "Eastwood Special" you know, back in his spaghetti western days mad remembers saying in several times and places, unsure of the particular where's and whens.

The man strides over to the bar with the steady measured pace of one who knows travel as intimately as one might know a lover. Every step is an old friend, and a fresh spring love. He neither hurries or dawdles on his way to the bar in a manner that is not stately, but still has a reverence for the journey.

His old friend mad isn't sure he'd himself actually met before arrives at the bar and orders a bottle of liquor mad forgets drinking many times before. as in i drank it, then then o forgot what happened next. or before. hard to keep the two straight sometimes... The traveller sits near the spectre of ends, and pours another cup of the monsterous mad fluid, and adric's eyes follow the unnatural shapes the liquid passes through as it tumbles headlong from the bottle into the earthenwear Clay... cup.

The Traveller speaks again to Shinigami, and while the shade is distracted, mad moves closer and surreptitiously pilfers the drink and downs it in one swig. He silently grins at the traveller as he silently slips the cup back and settles into a barstool to hear the man's tale.

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PostPosted: Wed Mar 21, 2007 6:46 pm 
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Clay let the elusive smile return to his lips as his old friend took the drink, thus committing himself to the tale.

"There once was a world, an old world, tired and resting on its old accomplishments, living in the houses of its ancestors.

A man came to this world, to its greatest city, which had lost all contact with its other cities, if indeed they lived at all. He came to their great halls, spoke to the old kings and showed them marvels of science and magic long undreampt of, lost in the distant past, perhaps never seen at all.

In greater and greater throngs they came to see his works and his name was on the lips of the crowds. Each man would ask other men of the crowd if they had gone to see Nyar the magician.

As his influence grew the night was ever more disturbed by the horrified screams of terrible nightmares, visited as a plague on the city. Sleep and rest became fitful forgotten things in the city and men ate but little and women wept for the madness of their homeland.

Still the man performed and ever the name Nyar was on their lips but it seemed they stared at one another with soulless eyes and say each other not at all in their msmerism, nor did they know who heard.

All this I saw, watching the doom of the people, speaking it among them in the moments when they would know it to be true. But weakness was upon them and they only wept.

Then came a night when noone slept, and the howls of the waking could be heard and all in the city came who had not died of terror or been found dead, twisted in a way that horrified the mind of even the rats who would not touch the bodies. The came to a center square and the magician was there. His skin was black as obsidian and his robes were alabaster white. He beckoned them to go with him and they followed, men and women, pulling children, carrying babes out into the endless desert where a storm howled and screamed like the victims of the nightmares and twisting death.

I stood and watched sadly as they left and saw a girl, barely of an age that life gives her the proof of her womanhood, holding her head and crying, dragging her feet and unwilling to go but knowing not what else to do.

I knew that it was for her I had come and I walked to her and placed my hand on her shoulder. She stopped walking and buried her head in my cloak, shaking with her tears.

It came to pass that I carried her away from that place to a new world, just starting to wake and see the dawn of man. And there I loved her and planted the seeds in that world of wisdom as the family I raised spead and learned the new science and magics of the new world with the wisdom of the old.

For it came also to pass that I was confronted on the road by the demon himself, he who calls himself the Crimson King, and he accosted me for robbing him of the completeness of his feast on the old dying world.

I rebuked the demon, saying I took for myself what was mine, and the girl chose freely. In his rage the demon struck at the new world, and failed, for the world was too young to take the bait his deceptions offered and drink his poison. He lost in his gamble and now I take my tithe from the old worlds consumed by chaos, using them to sow the seeds of new worlds to take their place.

Now I go to see the end, and speak the death of the greatest world yet, and who will go with me to save a remnant, so that the world born from its womb shall be greater still?

With this Clay filled his cup and Mad's and drank again. The story was over.

_________________
We used to play for silver, Now we play for life.
One's for sport and one's for blood
At the point of a knife, Now the die is shaken
Now the die must fall,
There ain't a winner in this game
Who don't go home with all, Not with all...


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PostPosted: Wed Mar 21, 2007 8:40 pm 
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Adric blinked once, and slowly, as the liqorice-tasting hallucinogenig drink sank it's mind-altering tendrils into his already unstable awareness, warping it into new, strange shapes and forms. Clay's story floated through and around him, the words becoming a kind of window into the past, showing the events as shadows just behind mad's eyes.

As the Traveller finished and poured them each another cupfull, adric thought silently for a moment, letting his thoughts slip and run into a shape like pitch-black liquid settling into a simple, aesymmetrical clay cup.

"Let me answer your question with a story. It's hard for me to tell if this is an old story, and sometimes, i'm not sure if it's even true." he stops for a moment, thinking. "sometimes it probably isnt."

"At the end of a world, two men fought each other. One fought for oder and control, and prhaps later was thought of as an Angel." Again, he stopped in his telling, slowly turning the cup as it sat on the counter, watching the ripples in the black absinthe. "The other fought for freedom, and for chaos...the chaos of begginnings and endings. He later was thought of as a demon and a devil of great wickedness. But these things are for other tales, i think."

The traveller nods, and the red-haired madman continues. "The second man, an avatar of the primal chaos, lost himself to the powers he weilded during their battle, and was consumed by them . . . or perhaps a better term would be scattered buy them. At any rate, he was thought to be conquored by the Angel of Order and lost in his own energies."

"The first man, having won their battle, recreated the world in his image of order and control, but unbeknown to him, he was...infected by some of his Adversary's energies. He destroyed and recreated the world in his image, and was lost in the making. The world of order and control was tainted, however, by the devil's touch on the Angel. But once again, this is a tale for another day."

"As for the second man, He was dispersed into many causalities, shards of his self were born or simply arrived in hundreds of different realities, a half-thousand shards sowing chaos and change throughout the fabric of creation."

"Several scraps floated aimlessly between worlds and times, finding no solid root or identity to adopt or create, unil they ended up at a junction between worlds of sorts. These were not really part of the man, but more reflections, ideas of what he is and what he represents. A shadow, and echo. In this sense, the thing that formed in this junction was at once more aware of his other selves and more seperated from them than any of the others. The reflection of a man, of an idea, was stuck - confined to this small place between worlds and times."

Adric lifted the earthenware cup and toasted the Traveller. "That reflection of a man will come with you, Clay, and become a man himself. He shall go to these old worlds with you, and help you seed them with the spontaneous spark of life and vitality which only comes from that Primal Chaos which has been his strength, and his calling, since before he existed."

Mad swigs down the liquor in one hoarse swallow, his yellow-in-red eyes twinking with a black mirth.

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PostPosted: Wed Mar 21, 2007 11:35 pm 
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Shin stares into the his ceramic cup, the black absinthe devoid of reflection.

Absinthe. The drink of madmen. An elixir capable of bridging the gap between Heaven and earth, and swinging open the gates of hell. Chaos made liquid. All the cosmos would make sense for but a moment, only to be torn away in the next. One could drift through countless lifetimes, only to awaken to find that no time has passed. A sane man could taste madness; lose himself in its contents. Free of responsibility. Free of the reason and sanity that anchors him to this world. Free of control.

The death god looks up from his glass, rubbing his temples with his free hand while setting the glass off to the side with the other. Allowing those wretched cries in for but a moment could spell disaster. To lose control would have the most dire consequences here.

"Please don't think me rude, but I'm going to have to sit this drink out. I'm sure you understand, old friend," he nods to Clay. "Allow me to apologize for earlier, as well. It was not meant as an insult, but merely to affirm that you were in fact the one I walked with through that land so devoid of reason long ago. How long has it been now? Several lifetimes, I would think. As you can see, I am not the child that I once was. Just as death is an inevitability for mortal men, so is it that we change with the passage of time."

A moment of silence passes, though the barroom remains as lively as ever.

"I've had to say my goodbyes to many a friend. You will not find the others that we once walked with in this room, dear specter. Alive or dead, I cannot say...Which is a most troubling matter for my ilk, as you would assume."

The death god turns his attention to Mad. Though Mad seems almost completely lost to effects of the absinthe, Shin continues all the same.

"I don't think we've been properly introduce, Mr. Adric," he says, smiling politely. "You are a most peculiar one, sir. You were meant to die so many times now, yet you continue to survive. Most interesting that," the wayward shade laughs before continuing, "but perhaps that is common in these circles."

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PostPosted: Thu Mar 22, 2007 7:03 am 
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Clay nodded to the Avatar of the Wyrd and smiled, not unkindly. "Some indeed have gone and farewells stack upon one another as the rings grow one upon another in the great bole of Wodin's Steed, that tree of legend. And yet does the scar of the spear remain? But then there is, that all things must go, but shall they not come again, for upon the morrow the wheel shall turn and what is old and forgotten shall be new again?"

With this obfuscated speech he left the gaze of the Psychopomp and turned to his old mad friend.

"Your confusion, old firend, is to be excused, but I have not come here by chance or whim but seeking one whom I have known in many times, times which may or may not be congruent to one another, and in most cases, most certainly are not. Here in this place, you are collected, your identity is a conglomeration. You have chosen well to come with me on this journey for the journey will make for you an identity fused into one and though your memories confuse you and your perspective shift and blur. Where once you were legion you shall be YOU and gain strength from that newfound center. You are named, Adric and out upon the road you shall again bring meaning to that name.

"Now, the time for drinking and sitting is done, The time to walk is upon us, and many miles shall we go before we sleep. Come and we shall cast down a Demon, break a dying world and remake it for our own hearts and minds. And why shall we exact so great and terrible a price from so dark a foe? Because FUCK HIM. That's fucking why."

This last he spoke with the determination to fight of an Arsenal fan upon seeing the colors of Manchester United upon a man who had spilled beer on him.

With this change in demeanor, the eternal wanderer clapped Adric on the shoulder and exited the bar.

_________________
We used to play for silver, Now we play for life.
One's for sport and one's for blood
At the point of a knife, Now the die is shaken
Now the die must fall,
There ain't a winner in this game
Who don't go home with all, Not with all...


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PostPosted: Fri Mar 23, 2007 11:28 pm 
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Adric grinned at the shinigami, the black twinkle of the absinthe's madness adding to the chaotic shimmer already in his eyes. "Death has come for many versions of me, on many occasions, and sometimes, he does take me. I am, however, subject to the forces i channel, and change often takes claim before the grey shadow of entropy."

He pauses for a moment. "or perhaps it's more accurate to say that the opposite to my patron forces is what allows me to continue as i fundamentally am. Order seems to prefer the doorway to it's counterpart have a consistent form and shape, instead of being more . . .random."

He shrugs, and stands up, downing the last of his booker noe and then the milk. "It's amusing that of all of me, only this part, moored in the in-between actually understand all of this. i guess i have a wider perspective."

He walks over to where the young female with purple skin is teasing the man in the knitted hat "Luci, would you like to come on a trip with me and my friend the Traveller?" The girl's face lights up in a delighted expression. She looks over at the Traveller, her face and figure maturing right before the gathered bar patrons' eyes, and she quirks a perfectly sculpted eyebrow in an unspoken question.

"you'll have to ask him later," adric laughed, and he extended his hand. "Shall we?"

The woman put her hand in his, and her skin, the colour of grape bubblegum took on a slight glow, and then in a blink she was gone, and there was a stone medallion lying in adric's palm, a symbol that seemed to shift and twist under your gaze unless you looked at it out of the corner of your eye. He walked back over to the man, who also rose from his stool.

"Now, the time for drinking and sitting is done, The time to walk is upon us, and many miles shall we go before we sleep. Come and we shall cast down a Demon, break a dying world and remake it for our own hearts and minds. And why shall we exact so great and terrible a price from so dark a foe? Because FUCK HIM. That's fucking why."

Adric grinned his mad half-grin as clay slapped him on the shoulder, and they made for the bar's door.

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PostPosted: Thu Apr 05, 2007 10:11 pm 
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“mmMMMmmm… she’s legal, I swear. It was consensual and she loved it. Oh crap, no, no, nO, NO, NO!"

Band rockets up into a sitting position, eyes wide open and muscles tensed to fight it out with the police planning on locking him up for statutory rape charges. He looks around his surroundings and sinks in fairly quickly that he’s always been in the Bar & Grill, never in any real trouble. He notices a smell that’s faded quite a bit and notices the establishment as being a bit more quiet & empty than he had last remembered seeing it.

Standing up, he noticed the exit of Mad & Luci, which was followed by a sinking feeling in his heart since he didn’t take the chance of re-igniting the spark between them. However, there was something else in the air tinged with Mad & Luci’s smell…the smell of gunpowder & death. It seemed familiar, but he just couldn’t place a finger on it. He turned to the bar-mech at his post behind the bar.

“Hey, when did Madadric leave?”

The Bar-mech replied, “Oh, that would’ve been over a week ago. You seemed to pass out for some reason and he got to talking to some gentleman that came in. They then all left and haven’t been back since.”

“So you saw whom it was Mad left with?”

“Of course sir, he would be hard to forget. He looked like an old Gunfighter from the Old West, reeking of death. In fact, the guy’s face looked quite a bit like Clint Eastwood when he was doing those Sergio Leone spaghetti westerns. You know, ”The Man With No Name. The Good, The Bad & The Ugly”… that type of stuff.”

Band then went to thinking. Pulling out a Cancer-stick & Zippo, the striking of the flint wheel started the gears in his mind. Just holding the smoke between his lips and the flame three inches from the end, his mind ground on until finally the tumblers locked in the correct sequence and his eyes lit up.

“HOLY SHIT! Clay? Clay Allison was here?”

“I’m not sure if that was his name Master, but he did seem to be referred to as The Traveler. He told an interesting story, and then proceeded to extend an invitation to Mr. Adric to defeat some Demon & remake some world. Frankly, it sounded like so much poppycock.”

“Trust me, when it comes to Clay, there’s no such thing as poppycock. So…you’re saying they left a few days ago?”

”Yes sir. Just about 10 days previous. Can I assume that you’re planning on joining them?”

”Well it’s been a while since I’ve done anything interesting. Hell, the last time was helping Rand deal with William the Dumbfuck. It might be good to get out of here…but I can’t just leave things here. Unless…”

Band runs into the hallway leading towards the Unisex Lavatory. He comes across another door and opens it. Inside he finds what he was looking for – The DuploMat 5000 Duplication & Integration Machine to allow for multiple independent avatars as well as allowing for re-integration of said avatars following the conclusion of RPG’s. The scary thing is that while most people figure the number 5000 is merely to make the machine sound cool, in reality it took 4,999 failed attempts to get the damn thing to work…. and it hasn’t really been done since. Swallowing up his pride and fear, he begins the power-up phase for the device. Selecting for duplication, Band makes his way into the alcove, prays for the best and prepares for the worst. Lights, sounds, flashes and other assundry effects build into a cacophony of bedlam until finally a blinding white light fills the alcove. In the adjacent alcove, a new identical version of Band is formed but for a permanent tattoo of the number 2 on the back of his wrists. Band Prime leaves the contraption and powers it down. Prime & Ni leave for the main hall.

Turning to Ni, Prime says, “You take care of things here, and I’ll be back later. Understood?”

Ni gives a look of puzzlement. “Who the fuck do you think I am? A Dee-Dee-Dee? Just relax Prime. Have fun & enjoy. Just make sure you’ll let me have some fun when you get back so I can do something before we re-integrate.”

”Consider it done.”

Band Prime proceeds to go up towards the Weapons Check counter and call for his articles. The lovely lady behind the counter has to hold her breath while trying to get Band’s stuff out of storage. She brings them up and he beholds a sight he hadn’t seen in a few years: His Trenchcoat. After helping Rand defeat William & the storming of the Castle in his Mech, Band realized that he needed to make sure he had some decent weapons on him in case it would be problematic or just plain overkill to call upon Pervy. So he had the R&D Department take a look at his weapons and see if they could update them. He used to bear an energy sword that was tied physically by a power cord to a hip-mounted generator. It could change the beam blade’s shape & power but it was a bit unwieldy so they came up with a newer version, along with an update for the Trenchcoat. The coat has built in armor plate to allow for more protection, but the best thing is his new beam blades. Housed inside his sleeves, they can pop out with the flick of a wrist. They also are now wireless, their hiding spots are also recharging ports. The power systems are hidden within the coat and feed on Band’s body heat. He checks out the blades. Turning them on, they radiate like a pair of jade-hued broadswords. He then works the thumb dial and sees it extend from 45 inches to an astounding 504 inches (42 feet) in length. Returning them to their default settings, he powers them down and reconnects them to their ports. He then reaches into the basket & retrieves an old World War II bayonet that was normally attached to the end of a M-1 Garand Rifle. Sharpened, fortified & nicely fit in its metal scabbard, Band slipped it around his right thigh.

Fully attired with his weapons, leather trenchcoat & fedora hat, Band makes his way for the door and hopefully a new adventure with Mad & Clay…that is if he could find them.

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PostPosted: Sat Apr 07, 2007 2:30 pm 
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As BandMan2K tries to leave, a mass of shadows start assembling from the ground and forming the yours truly just by his face.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She gets out of his way and stumbles on the girl by the entrance.

"You can't enter with your weapons... Lady?" The girl takes a sight at the nekomatian, wether if it was a lady or a man, wasn't clear.

"Lady." She nodded. "I have no weapons with me."

"Every single one carry weapons here, let me check." The girl answered with a clean but pinning voice.

The nekomatian regained her balance and stood on her cat legs. "Go ahead."

As the girl passed her hands over her clothes, she widens her eyes as she touches something below the cat's dress. "Wh... What is this?" Things surged into the girl's mind.

"Hm?" The cat shifted instance and two tails came out from a hole in the dress. "They're my tails."

"Whew." The girl sighed in relief. "You scared me for a moment, you're clean, go ahead, oh yes, I must advise you that here in Kyhmspace ladies can use the hammerspace at will."

"Again Hammerpace? Thank you, I prefer leaving such to those that need it." The nekomatian walked in a semi-human stance to the main bar and took a seat by the small group there. "If you excuse me." She moved her head to the barlady. "Would you bring me a glass of milk? No cream, please."

The barlady nodded and went inside the stocks to look for milk.

"Hm, milk. Nice place also. One might hang here." She said while waving her tails slowly with some grace.

[OOC]Hello![/OOC]


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PostPosted: Sun Apr 08, 2007 9:53 pm 
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"Hello Kitty! how are you?" says the SD avatar of the snoozing Briareos.
"I am SD Bri Nice to meet you." SD bri notices the quizzical stare coming from the feline next to him at the bar.
"Oh me? I am the avatar of the big rabbit headed guy in the chair next to the fireplace" as he waves in Bri's general direction "But he is sick these days and so he sleeps alot since no one really talks to him (he's grumpy) but when he sleeps sometimes I come out and play."

"So What about you?"


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PostPosted: Sun Apr 15, 2007 8:44 pm 
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Band’s duplicate self was making his way from the back room that held the DuploMat 5000 towards the main room. He had made sure to secure the device and was doing his best to hide his wrist tattoos displaying the number 2. Just as he got back to the bar, his eyes beheld an exotic beauty that seemed to personify exactly the idea of catgirls that seemed to rummage through his mind on occasion. He noticed the Bar-mech making his way back to the front with a glass of milk, no doubt for the new arrival. Band then cut it off.

“It’s fine, I’ll take the refreshment to the customer. You go about cleaning those glasses.”

The mech, after handing the drink off, went towards a number of glasses on the far end of the bar that needed to be cleaned. Meanwhile, Band made his way behind the bar and noticed SD Bri not really getting any reaction from the patron. He stepped in and placed the drink on the bar top.

“Here’s what you ordered. This is Whole milk so I hope it meets with your satisfaction.”

The patron reached out with her paws and proceeded to consume the milk…that is until she looked up and noticed the face of the gentleman she had just bumped into entering the establishment was now behind the bar. A look of confusion went across her face as she then asked Band how he could be there when she had just bumped into him on the way in.

“Oh…I’m a duplicate. That was the original Bandman you bumped into. I’m just here to fill his place. See?” He then proceeded to show his inner wrists and reveal the number 2 on both wrists. “This shows that I’m a copy of him, except this is only to verify who’s the original & who’s the copy. For all intents and purposes I’m the same guy you bumped into. Does the milk taste good?”

Band then flashed a smile that for some people might mistake it for something sinister underneath.

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Sifu of Corpse Child

Caecus fides est hostilis veritatis

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PostPosted: Mon Apr 23, 2007 12:03 pm 
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Joined: Wed Jul 02, 2003 4:12 pm
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Location: Royal Court of Unfounded Speculation
*Bump's to see where this is stored.*

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A man said to the Universe, "Sir, I exist!"
"However," replied the Universe, "the fact has not created in me a sense of obligation."


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