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originally posted in:The New Dojo
10/6/2016 3:52:06 AM
19
[b]Man on the Moon:[/b]
[i]Bar//Dojo Village[/i]
Michael Drake put the bottle down with a thud, the glass making a resounding [i]crack[/i] that echoed throughout the dimly lit room. With a nonchalant gesture with his prosthetic hand, he waved at the bartender for another round, and then returned to his tired reverie. Once upon a time, he drank in celebration. Then, he drank to drown his ever-cumulative sorrows from consuming him. Now, he simply drank for the hell of it.
Outside, the calm whirring of his [url=http://m.imgur.com/qvQuDtS]ship's[/url] engines could scarcely be heard over the droning conversations in the room. People from all over the universe came here, to Dojoville, to compete against one another in a never-ending contest to achieve superiority. Hell, he'd probably know some people from the NTR here--this was an often frequented area, after all. He'd have to be careful--while he wasn't wanted here, nobody would bar an eyelash if someone were to snuff him in the middle of the night.
As he drank, he considered why the hell he came here to begin with. He wasn't the best of fighters, and he wasn't likely to win honor or greatness here, so why did he find himself in this sinkhole, mere miles away from the hub of champions? With a wry smile, he realized that he had answered his own question.
He'd come here to do something with his life. And to make some new "acquaintances"--that too.
[spoiler]Open to all. [/spoiler]
English
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A man sat down a few seats away, drink in hand, but he put you in a state of unease He kept giving you sidelong glances and set down the drink before putting on a UNSC ODST helmet over a matching set of armor he was wearing, and he walked over to you
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[i]Drake's arm instinctively went down to the holster on his hip upon seeing body armor--a natural reflex from onetime criminal, but his mind quickly overcame such notions. This man wasn't after him, and he shouldn't be picking fights regardless. A change of tact was required. With a charming grin, he leans over to face the armored man,[/i] "Evening soldier, didn't know it was amateur hour here." [i]Drake had forgotten how much of a jackass he was, with a rueful smirk. [/i] "You seem to be packing a lot of firepower over there. Compensating for something?"
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"You must be Drake" The man brushed aside you remarks, unaffected by it, a trait well-disciplined soldiers always seemed to have "The kid told me to find you, didn't realize you'd hang around here out of all places"
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[i]Drake scoffs, taking another swig of his drink. He was sure of whom the soldier meant by the kid, but a confirmation would be preferred,[/i] "If the kid didn't tell you that I went to bars, you must not know who I am."
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"Not this bar, didn't realize your crew was the most honorable group" He seemed tired, and sat down next to you "Then again, I wasn't able to get much out of him, as I lost contact with him and he had a few bullets in his chest, he was rambling on and on about a Silver and a Magnetar or something"
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"Bullets in his chest?... Why the hell does the kid have a damn death wish?" [i]Drake chugs the last of his drink, and then turns to the man,[/i] "You're Jared, Jared Grant. I recognize you from the Hermes file, and from what I saw, you're trustworthy. I need you to take me to Alpha, so we can hunt those bastards down once and for all."
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"Alright, but the canopy is wedged shut, the only thing keeping silver away from him, cause I've seen that alliance bastard stalking this place for a bit" He turns away from you, and starts to walk out "Also, I'll need an explanation once we're done here"
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[b]Entering the bar are three Knights, each different in some way. One has a massive hammer, and stands at eight feet while the second has a great sword and stands at seven. The third one has dual wield swords and stands at a mere 5'8. Multiple patrons turn to stare when the bar tender waves them over. They approach the bar, and tender slams down three drinks in front of them [/b] Bartender- "Dojo members! For you" "Thanks Thomas." [b]They swig down there drinks, talking amongst themselves [/b]
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[i]Drake looks over at the men jealously, unconsciously brushing a hand through his neat black hair. [b]Dammit[/b], he thought, [b]Yet another reason for me to sign up.[/b] In all honesty, the man had long been putting off such testing. After years of running from authority--authority which, he had gathered, was also prevalent here--he'd grown to distrust soldiers and warriors of all kinds, thinking them weak-minded and weak-willed. But the Dojo had a reputation for greatness, and if this was how he was going to make a living, he'd have to join. He turns to look at the Knights again, jokingly asking,[/i] "Dojo members get a discount? Hell, where do I sign up?"
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[b]The Knights turn, speaking kindly and warmly [/b] "You sign up by asking!" [b]The Knight says this Dead seriously [/b]
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"Really?... That's it? Well then, I suppose I'm a part of the Dojo now... That means that the discount goes on my tab, right?" [i]He says the last part jokingly to the bartender. [/i]
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[b]The Knights chuckle at that.[/b] "Only first drink is free, after you gotta pay like everyone else."
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[i]Drake pauses, and takes another look at the menu for a good selection. If he only had one shot, he'd better make it count. With a sly grin, he orders the most expensive, rarest item on the list, and with a decent amount of satisfaction, leans back on his stool (y'know, like the seat), and throws the Knights a wink,[/i] "Thanks for the heads up."
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"Heh. Yeah no problem." [b]The drink arrives and is placed down in front of Drake [/b]
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[b]The bar door eventually opened slightly and a very bizarre newcomer entered. Instantly, a hush fell over the bar as silent feet found a place in the corner.[/b] [b]If Drake turned to see the new arrival, he would have found an other-worldly being, with light blue skin. She was outstandingly beautiful, with long red hair like a sunset, and large eyes like warm and passionate fires to contrast her bizarre skin. She wore a long black dress that exposed quite a bit of skin, yet covered her head with a thin hood. A strange crest and needle held her hair in place while still showing she wasn't just some pauper. But perhaps her strangest feature was the strands and lines of green color that swarmed her arms, legs, and even her clothes.[/b] [b]Many of the patrons gave her surprised glances, other's amused. She was the sort of creature that didn't quite belong... But she seemed oblivious to any kind of stares, her eyes curious and interested, as if she was experiencing such a place for the first time.[/b] [b]Her gaze passed over Drake one or two times, but she mostly kept her face buried in a menu, seemingly trying to decipher what it said. She couldn't understand the symbols, and so she narrowed her eyes in annoyance.[/b]
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[i]Drake gave her a double-take: once for the looks, and once for a more analytical glance, before he turns back to his drink. He knew the helplessness she felt: due to his lack of formal education, he was barely able to read. The only reason he could read these menus is because he frequented such places so often, that he was able to match the product with the alien symbols on the page. Normally, he'd go straight in for business, for someone to spend the night with. But perhaps that mindset had been left in the past, alongside so many of his old habits. A light scar sat on his left cheek; a reminder of the fault in his old ways. Now, he'd try to help her not because he was trying to get in her pants, but instead in a genuine effort. He walked over to her, brushing his black hair back up onto his forehead, where it sat neatly gelled and combed.[/i] "I can see that you're looking a little confused there. If my opinion's worth anything, I'd recommend the Vodka--it's a bit of an acquired taste, but that's what this place's known for." [i]He paused for a second, realizing that he was forgetting something.[/i] "Oh, and I'm Michael. Nice to meet you."
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[b]She turned her eyes to Drake with a simple stare, quiet and curious. He was interesting, and not bad looking for a human... Which seemed to be the main kind of species.[/b] [b]She gave a meek smile and nodded silently, not exactly sure what whiskey was. She hadn't heard of most the food stuffs around these parts, and she forgot most of the complicated names.[/b] [b]But there was one thing she knew how to do right, and that was to greet someone.[/b] [i]"Hello, Michael. I'm Chloephina... Chloe for short. It's very nice to meet you."[/i] [b]She bowed her head formally and set down the menu, scanning over the various words before looking back up at him.[/b] [i]"You can read this stuff...?"[/i]
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"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Chloe." [i]Drake squinted down at the menu, trying his best to appear confident. He could make our most of the words--at least, those that he recognized from home--but hopefully she wouldn't call his bluff on something that he didn't know. He fixed her with a charming grin, before he turned back to the menu,[/i] "Err, more or less. What kind of food were you in the mood for?" [i]His crimson jacket didn't shine in the light like you'd expect it to, but it still flapped around in a phantom wind. Beneath that he wore casual space-jockey clothing: a white shirt with tight-ish grey pants, fixed with a strange insignia on his chest. He had something strapped to his waist and chest, like a bandoleer, but considering the amount of fighters in the Dojo, it wouldn't surprise you if he was armed. [/i]
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[i]"Oh! It's food? I see... I guess anything."[/i] [b]She looked at the menu once more, wishing she had an actual translator, but she was thankful for Michael. He seemed kind...[/b] [i]"What do they have...?"[/i] [b]She asked, her voice becoming more lyrical as she spoke. It had a gentleness, a kind of, soothing tone to it. It wasn't really on purpose either. But the likelihood was that she was a good singer.[/b]
