A tall man in a dark flight suit stepped into the bar. His helmet was squarely attached to his flight-suit, providing a sealed atmosphere in case of catastrophic decompression.
Deep breathes emanated from under the helmet, as he moved closer to the bar and the three Corsairs drinking there. On his way there, another unknown Corsair asked where he got such a nice looking flight-suit. The tall man ignored him until the other Corsair started to get violent, at which point the helmeted man elbowed the Corsair in the ear, tripped him and kicked his side. The rest allowed him to pass to the bar.
Without a word, he slipped a piece of paper out of his flight-suit and handed it to Pedro. At once, Pedro went to the back and started working, the stranger waited patiently.
Finally, Pedro came back to the front with a tall glass of milky-white sweetness, pouring extra Tequila into the glass.
The stranger undid his respirator and slipped the straw into the helmet, slowly draining the concoction.
"The thirteen saloons that had lined the one street of Seney had not left a trace. The foundations of the Mansion House hotel stuck up above the ground. The stone was chipped and split by the fire. It was all that was left of the town of Seney. Even the surface had been burned off the ground.
Nick looked at the burned-over stretch of hillside, where he had expected to find the scattered houses of the town and then walked down the railroad track to the bridge over the river. The river was there."
Juan straightened up and pushed the flight-helmet off revealing long braided hair and a 6 o'clock shadow.
"Miguel, Laowai, I've got a pilot here you might find interesting." Juan said as he finished his 'drink.'
"He's a Merc I saved while patrolling Eta. Flies an Eagle. Story goes he was lured out here to get rich, but stumbled on the Outcasts first. Almost didn't escape the last encounter at the minefield so I told him he could repair at Etna and meet me here once he was ready."
"His name's 'Xavier Marion.' By the void, if he betrays me, I'm going to hunt him down and string him up by his flight suit."
Juan took some grain alcohol meant for Laowai and threw it back violently. Pedro, forever the good sport, supplied more.
"The thirteen saloons that had lined the one street of Seney had not left a trace. The foundations of the Mansion House hotel stuck up above the ground. The stone was chipped and split by the fire. It was all that was left of the town of Seney. Even the surface had been burned off the ground.
Nick looked at the burned-over stretch of hillside, where he had expected to find the scattered houses of the town and then walked down the railroad track to the bridge over the river. The river was there."
A young Corsair walks into the bar. He was about 6"2 and had hair down to the small top of his neck, he wore a straight emotionless face as he subtly gazed around the bar. He swung his fringe aside with a quick flick of the head. Many would believed that he would have been naive and immature due to his age, but he was nothing of the sort. He purposefully walked over to the bar rested his arms on the counter and ordered a Pint of beer. He offered the barmaid a curt smile and a cheeky wink, to which the barmaid responded with a small blush and then proceeded over to one of the empty tables at back of the bar.
Dream Theater - "Sabre120 and Jongleur officially win. That is all."
An old man walks into the Bar, most everyone knows him, and though he walks with a cane, it seems that everyone in Pedro's knew to step out of his way. The old man moved to the bar, quite swiftly for a man of his age and with a cane. Pedro stopped pouring the drink for the customers he was waiting on and hurried over to the old man. The old man leaned over and brought Pedro close to his face. The two men whispered to each other for a few moments, and Pedro nodded toward a table in the back, and then picked up an old dusty bottle from the shelf and poured to glasses of the dark liquid. The old man picked up the two glasses and made his way over to the table with the young Corsair sitting at it.
The old man, sat down, not asking if he could sit. He quietly slid one of the glasses in front of the young man, and picked up the glass in front of himself. Taking a long sip from the glass the old man began. "Hola hermano, you dont know who I am, but Pedro there behind the bar, he keeps an eye on certain things for me. He tends to have a good read on people, knows what they are about with a quick look. He told me I should come and talk to you. My name is Miguel Sephardi, have a drink and tell me about yourself." With that, the old man threw back the rest of his drink.
The young Corsair stared at the old man, with a look of suprise and confusion. "You are Shephardi?" he questioned, gazing into the old mans wise eyes. "My Mother has mentioned you once or twice I believe, you are a legend among Corsairs" he paused for a second, staring at his drink and then took a sip "If you want to know me then here is the brief history, my name is Ben Love, not Hispanic I know. My mother had a fling with a Bretonian miner a while ago and whilst I was born in Bretonia, my mother quickly brought me back here. She taught me the ways of the Corsairs and I took my 'Rite of passage' into the Malvada cloud at the age of 15, returning with the required artifact, other than that there is not much to it...so why did you come to talk to me?"
Dream Theater - "Sabre120 and Jongleur officially win. That is all."
Jose wandered into the bar. It had been a considerable while since he had been into Pedro's but since he happened to be passing he thought he'd stop by and have a drink.
As he crossed to the bar itself he considered that the main reason he hadn't been into the bar was because he had been spending far too much time up at his Villa tending his garden. What was even more suprising was that he had been tending his garden at all... he hated the damn thing. It was never finished or complete. There was always something more to be done.
Waving to attract Pedro's attention he asked for a beer. "'Ola Pedro.... long time since I've seen you. Could I have a beer please?". Jose waited for Pedro to pour the beer and then handed him the money.
Taking a sip of the cold beer he looked around the interior of the bar. It didn't seem to have changed very much from when he was last here. It still had the fresh faced Corsair pilots enjoying some R&R after a patrol, and the decor hadn't changed much at all.
Toward the back of the bar Jose spotted an old friend Miguel Sephardi. It had been a while since he had seen Miguel, and Jose wondered what the Corsair Council were going to do about the fact that the Order seemed to have made allies of the SCRA, while the Corsairs where at best "friendly". There were talks that the Benitez would soon ban the Order from operating in Om94, after all why would you let a group who are allied to your enemies be allowed to roam freely throughout the Corsair nation and their homeworld?
Daniela Ferucci entered bar, looking for someone...
She came directly to the bartender to ask few things..
"Hey, vamos, how's weather on Crete?" "Quite bad, everything is dried out, hermana..." - he sighed. "Ahh.. E-er, haven't you seen Emilio?" - she smiled. "No.. He rarely visits our bar, you know, hermana." "Allright, give me glass of tequila with water, 1/5." "Si."
Manuel Dominguez stepped through the doors of the bar slightly ducking his head to avoid hitting it on the door frame, his space suit was torn and burnt in several places places revealing his honed physique along with a couple of battlescars, he organized his long jet black hair into a crude pony tail and approached the bar whilst taking in the scene around him.
"Give me a bottle of tequila and a drink on the slate for the brave pilots of The Brotherhood senor" asked Manuel, whilst the barman was fetching the bottle and readying the glasses for the anticipated assault on the bar after the proclomation of free drinks.
Manuel turned to face the bars patrons and opened his mouth "Hola pilots of the Brotherhood, I passed the Maldava trials long ago and have before now been making my scratch by running down Bretonian transports in Cambridge. This pays the way but the satisfaction is not so high, I would like a shot at joining your order and bringing my skills to the aid of Crete and the rest of our glorious nation."
The bar went silent so Manuel retired to a booth to await a response.
The entrance of the Spectre Pitchfork drew attention to the bar's entrance. She scanned the crowd, intent on finding one particular individual. Failing to see her missing love, Pitchfork moved to sit with her contact: the Corsair Elder Miguel Sephardi.
She first walked to the bar, ordering a single drink, as to lose attention. Though it was inevitable that she would be watched, Pitchfork hoped that she could minimize her exposure. After several sips, she ordered a second drink and moved to the dimly lit booth the elder sat at.
"Konnichiwa, esteemed elder," she began, handing him the drink, "I rather enjoy the atmosphere, though the stares do little to help. A good place to meet a friend."
Shiraishi looked at her drink, her face becoming serious.
"Time for business, I suppose. The Mollys have recently signed a new armistice with the Bretonia Government. We don't like this. I'm sure you do not either. It may work better to have us instigate its downfall together. It would be a very good start to a mutually beneficial relationship, I think."
"We also have a matter of security. We have encountered a few...strays, in our organization. We would like to catch these strays. There are two we have very little information on. They are Dark Blossom, a female with pink hair, a dour attitude, and a Golden Chrysanthemum Bomber as her token ship, and Gloom, a man with very little emotion and a Rheinland Bomber. Any information you may have on these two would be very much appreciated."
"Then..." Pitchfork continued, pausing for a moment to sort out her thoughts, "There is Luxuria. A very promiscuous woman once known as Georgia Brown. Boring features, brown hair. We have heard news of her. Here, with the Corsairs, or nearby, with the Order. She was last seen with one Christobal Cortez. I am to understand that he is one of the Brotherhood. I would like to have a word with him, if I may, or have his words about Luxuria. I know our reputation, however, I am no fool. Attacking a Corsair on Crete would be more foolhardy than attacking a group in space. Unlike the Revenant, I am only human."
She took a drink now and looked into the Elder's eyes, affirming him of her conviction. Shiraishi said no more, only waiting for his response.
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:49:19 AM] Elgatodiablo: You know its nice that you have all that proof and all, Bacon... but I just don't believe you.
The grizzled old man took a sip of his own drink while listening to the Kusari's words. "I do indeed know of this armistice of the Mollies, and yes, I think it's a threat. Something of course must be done." The old man took another sip, his brown skin almost cracking as he opened his mouth. "As for your lost puppies, I would be happy to help you look for them, as for Cristobal, he has not been seen in the Brotherhood for some time, last I heard of him, he had gone off on a foolhardy quest to find my old hermano Gentle."
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