O'Bannon sipped his ale while watching McGee in yet another fight. "Ya now Charlie," he said to himself, "For all the times he's gotten into fights, if'n he'd had a credit for each one, he could've gotten a name change ten times over."
He watched wicked right cross land on Ree, and then winced hard as an upward knee caught Fion in the groin. At the same time he realized his glass was empty and, with another look towards the fighting pair, decided to take McGee's unused full beverage.
"The man has spunk and courage," he muttered, "Bollocks enough to take on a 'Sair cruiser alone, but would help if he'd not had so many concussions."
Taking a long pull from the fresh drink, Charlie continued to watch the fight.
Nick leaned on the bar watching the fight absent mindedly as he mopped up whiskey stains on the bartop. Once the scrap was over, he motioned to Jimmy.
"Oi Jimmy, go clean up the feckin' mess," he said, picking up a mobile communicatior.
"Top'o'th'mornin' Paddy!" he bellowed into the device, "aye it's Nick. Listen boyo I need some new chairs up here teh' replace the latest fight casualties."
There was a garbled murmoring from the device.
"Alright mate, I'll see ye' in about an hour," he ended...
Quote:Dublin Miner: I am Gallic admiral earning money in Bretonia.
Bo entered the pub ignoring all of the visitors- known and unknown ones
"I just want to get drunk as fast as possible....."
After a while Bo looks with empty look in his glass.
"Well it is sad that he is gone. Hell I cannot even imagine that I will be runnin the show now, I hope I wont screw it big time like always."
After the 7th big one Bo fell down behind the bar mindlessly drunk, the Lads dragged him back to his chamber.
(10-09-2013, 10:51 AM)Knjaz Wrote: Official faction players that are often accused of elitism, never deploy them and have those weird, immersion killing "fair fight/dueling" suicidal hobbies. (yes, i've seen enough of those lolduels, where house military with overwhelming force on the field willingly loses a pilot in a duel. ffs.)
It was late in the pub as Nick O'Flannigan argued heatedly over the bar with two other Mollys. Between them was a datapad displaying ship schematics of various freighters, a bottle of whiskey and three glasses. "Listen mate, I don't see wha's wrong wit' a good old Bactrain," said one.
A pained look crossed the faces of the other two. "Ye' feckin' eegit Sean," replied Nick increduously, "if we go an' park one o' our ugly feckin' Bactrains outside their pretty feckin' buildin', how long ye' tink' its goin' teh' take feh' em' teh' figure out sometin' ain't feckin' right?!" "Aye well wha' bout' tha' Sair Correo we took tha' one time?" said Sean, "last I saw it was jus' sittin' down there in the hangar rustin'!" "Bloody hell this boy's thick as a feckin' battleship hull," exclaimed the third Molly as Nick buried his bearded face in his hand, "listen Sean ye' dumb feck, we need teh' be able teh' park the ting' then get far enough away before the BPA get wise..." "Aye, an' if we park a feckin' Bactrain or a stolen Sair scrapheap in front o' the BMM headquarters they ain't goin' teh' waste no time in arrestin' us an' cartin' us off teh' some feckin' hole," interjected Nick. "Tha's why it has teh' be inconfeckin'spicuous Sean ye' inbred son o' a squaddie," said the third before knocking back a swig of whiskey. "Listen Paddy," said Nick, addressing the third Molly, "ye' jus' get me them feckin' explosives an' I'll sort the ship."
Paddy nodded and made his goodbyes before leaving the pub. "And Sean, ye' pathetic excuse feh' a functionin' Molly, jus' do wha' I feckin' tell ye'," Nick said, "if ye' weren't me ma's sisters half brother I'da' left ye' stewin' in tha' feckin' toilet I found ye' passed out in!"
Sean skulked off dejectedly to a corner of the pub, nursing his whiskey sullenly as he went.
Nick stashed away the pad and went back to cleaning the bar, muttering under his breath...
Quote:Dublin Miner: I am Gallic admiral earning money in Bretonia.
Bo goes back to the Nick's table,taps him on the shoulder and says: "Lads dunt worry. I will be speakin with some people in order to find the best explosives for you. I hope ya will be sattisfied , the fekkin brets deserve no better. Just mind that whatever yar take- it must look common- let say it must look even civilian it must smell civilian and dont forget to equip it right. The brets have good scanners, simple double wall or double bottom wont work for ya. May be even the best way is to kidnap one of the bret civilian vessels and modify it. They wont be able to start lookin for it so fast and will be surprised ... "
(10-09-2013, 10:51 AM)Knjaz Wrote: Official faction players that are often accused of elitism, never deploy them and have those weird, immersion killing "fair fight/dueling" suicidal hobbies. (yes, i've seen enough of those lolduels, where house military with overwhelming force on the field willingly loses a pilot in a duel. ffs.)
Henry enters the pub, merely holding himself on his legs, with a whiskey bottle in his right hand and a cigarette in his left hand. Since he entered he kept singing with a terrible loud tone, that he was annoying everyone else in the pub.
- Little molly... la-la-la... We're gonna win -eeeha! La-la!Henry paused for a while of singing and looked at everyone else in the pub
-'ello, lads. Wat ye doin'?Henry hic'd and lost his balance, falling on a chair.
Same ol' same ol' a tons of work and no rest.
I guess I am goin to take whore and one P transp with luxury equipment and go to Baden Baden for 2 weeks, I am so tired, I almost have no sleep..
Workin and workin and ye killin stuff , then the whole paper crap.....
(10-09-2013, 10:51 AM)Knjaz Wrote: Official faction players that are often accused of elitism, never deploy them and have those weird, immersion killing "fair fight/dueling" suicidal hobbies. (yes, i've seen enough of those lolduels, where house military with overwhelming force on the field willingly loses a pilot in a duel. ffs.)
Henry drinked a little from the bottle and wiped his beard with the otherside of his palm.
- Aaargh... ye need a vacantion, eh?Henry laughted a little, then calmed down and drinked a little more.
- Ye ain't gonn' get a vacantion mate. Da best ye gonna earn is a 2 day trip to Colraine, wher' it's safer and nicer. But heh... dat's a hopefully scenario mate! Aaaaanyway, killin', looting and raping is waaaay much better! Am I rite boys?!Henry asked the whole pub with a awfully loud tone.
- Good... so... cheer up! Waitressss! Baby, one whiskey for th' sad fella ove'here.
Josh,after getting himself nearly shot to death from a whole armada of Bretonian Armed Forces,decided it's time to hit the pub.
Ye waitress,get me ma olde Jack.Ye know the drill
Once he got his drink,he sat down on a chair closeby to what was presumed to be the Hooker's Corner.He was thinking of maybe having a lil' bit of fun before flyin' would be nice
Now ta think that we dun' have bishes aroun'.Meh,they prolly smell the same,time ta grab somethin' new-He said.
After drinking half of his bottle of Jack Daniels,he went to the waitress and asked for his bottle to be refilled.
Ye i be needin' this and another bottle fer flyin'.Also,get me some weed.
Some minutes later,the waitress came back with a fat joint,just for Josh and with two full bottles of Jack
That's better.Kisses and meeps fer ye,honey!
And with that said,he went to the landing bay,grabbed his trusty Sabre,and went back to flyin' 'round Dublin and beyond.
Edward enters the pub, looking tired and totaly exausted. He saw an empty table in the corner, and sat there.
After few minutes of looking around, he started to yell.
Bartender, bring me Jack Daniels! Do not make me wait, I'm already pissed off!
Soon after, bartender arrived with Jack Daniels.
Finally, I got my hands on it. Thank you boy!
Each bottle of Jack made him less and less confused. Suddenly, he hit table with his head, and feel asleep.