New Orleans (CVnU)

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Zauberin

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#851 Zauberin  Moderator

@everdeen:

SLAP!

Abigail Aensland
Abigail Aensland

The harsh sound echoed as Arturia slapped her palm to her face, dragging it down gradually until it fell off of her chin. Her smile then had been replaced with a dry annoyance and she glared daggers at the abrasive zombie man. "I really promised myself I was gonna stop insulting you, or at least try. But you make a lotta threats, and honestly I don't think you can back 'em up." She kept poised, physically relaxed but mentally ready in case he sought to test her then, to cut her off.

"But it's not for me. I don't need a bodyguard. There's a girl," she stated, raising her hand. In it, through a similar dark fog she conjured an image, the face of a blonde, sullen-faced woman with a scar over her right eye. "Do you recognise this hero? An...acquaintance, you could say. She lives dangerously but she's not the brightest so not super keen on necessary precautions. You'll fit like a glove. I want you to follow her, and...help her out a bit. Keep her from dying too young. I assure you, you'll be well-fed and, if you like, well-paid. Other benefits eligible if you remain long enough and do a good enough job.

She closed her hand and the image faded. "Afraid that's all I can give out for free. So...?"

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Aberdeen

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@zauberin: Frozen laughed as he quickly glanced at her before turning his head the other way, balling up his fists. "What's the last time I insulted you, girl? Huh? You started it, and I was just defending myself. I swear you have some serious issues. And as much as I love to fight you, I won't do it today. Perhaps another time, I suppose."

His ears perked up like a dog, surprised what he was hearing. Everdeen was hesitant to accept at first, but he ended the debate in his head after giving it a swift thought. Who knows? Maybe this could be a chance of him living a better life, getting to know more people. "Hmm, don't think I ever heard of her. Or I could have, not sure. But anyway, why does she need protecting? What's her name? Is that you friend? Oh, sorry for the questions. I got a little carried away."

He took a look at Esaith again, nodding his head. "I... accept your "job" or whatever this is. I'm not aware how this'll play out, but I look forward to finding out."

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Zauberin

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#853 Zauberin  Moderator

@everdeen: "Ugh, I swear to God. Were you even listening at all or are you just dense?" She was sitting on the edge of the throne then, her eyes flashed blood-red and her nostrils flared. "I just told you she lives dangerously and these are necessary precautions. Her name is Abigail. Just...please do this thing for me," she growled through clenched teeth, glowering as though it pained her to ask again. Then her voice and expression both softened. "If you do this, you'll get everything you've asked for and more. I promise. Just tell her Reina sent you."

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Aberdeen

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@zauberin: He didn't try to make a comeback of his own. This time around he just laughed it off. I guess he does have a sense of humor after all...

"You know, it's funny to see you get angry. I don't know why, but it makes me laugh. And I told you I accept already, geez. I think you have a hard time listening," Everdeen said playfully. "Oh, and I would ask why are you helping me, but you won't tell. You remind me of those asian masters who be speaking in riddles, except you're not my master. Long story short, I guess I'll find out in due time."

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Zauberin

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#855 Zauberin  Moderator

@everdeen:

"Very well then," she started, leaning back again. Just as it'd formed, the stone structure of the makeshift throne seemed to operate in reverse, its solid form liquefying, and the same unnatural limbs which lifted her up onto itself lowered her back onto the ground. "Shall we make it official?" Sauntering over, she extended her hand for him to shake. Her black glove shimmered with a faint spectral glow, outlining in blue. "Take my hand, make this deal with me and you are bound to me. Bound by your word. If you should reconsider and wish for release, simply think of me and I shall come. Ask me and I can release you. But, if you move to betray me at all...you will die."

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Aberdeen

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@zauberin:

He walked over towards her, extending his arm and accepting the handshake. Everdeen then laughed at her last words, taking no offense behind them. "Ha! Your empty threats don't scare me, little girl. I do appreciate the effort though, it's admirable," he said mocking her. "Anyway, this Abigail girl...I don't know why, but I'm kinda anxious to meet her. I think it's because I like surprises, I dunno. And is this the end? Like of our interaction? I'd like to say goodbye if so. Not gonna lie, it was kinda scary at first, though it did turn out to be entertaining, wouldn't you agree?"

A smile stayed on his face for awhile before it eventually faded. He hasn't smiled that much in quite some time.

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Zauberin

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#857 Zauberin  Moderator

@everdeen:

Arturia took his hand and squeezed lightly. There was a brilliant ephemeral flash as the energy of her magic intensified and seemed to transfer along her arm and into him through his. She noted his doubt, its potential implications, but paid little mind further. Not important. What she wanted, she now had.

"Entertaining enough, Mister Deen," she responded, stepping back into a curtsy. And as she completed the motion her entire body faded and wisped away, dissipating as though made of smoke. Yet once more her voice echoed in her absence. "Just do your best not to disappoint me."

And she was gone.

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Black Solace

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@rey_king

No Caption Provided

It wasn't some sort of cosmic event that saw the Queen of Pax-Africana deposited here, she was here on her own accord. On her world, an alternate universe version of herself known as "The Championess" attacked and killed Maya Summers. She didn't stay to mourn as she quickly gave chase to the woman through a wormhole which eventually deposited her here.

She wasn't alone, however, the man she'd chosen as her future husband traveled with her. Despite having sworn to avenge the death of her mentor, Ziccarra knew it was pertinent to get him back to Earth-6.

"You seem twoubled" His eyes bore down on her, she could feel them, but even then she only cared to give him a couple glances nothing more.

"It's nothing" she retort fixing his coat and tie.

"Fo' you? Ending a waw of continents is nothing. This? this is diffa'nt."

Allowing her hands to slide effortlessly behind her back, Ziccarra moved stride for stride with her husband-to-be toward an opening overlooking the city of New Orleans. Though she was visibly in deep thought, he could tell she missed the allure this city had in their own world. The American Union had not yet ended its continental Race War. Hundreds of African Refugee's, descendants of slaves crowded the borders of Pax-Africana looking for salvation; while the majority of their kind fought to keep their stake in the Americas.

"I met anotha' one. Anotha' Me. Unlike the White Woman, this one was ispanic in nata'. But I could tell fwom subtle feata's that she as woots in Afwica."

His hands slid across the small of her back before pulling her in close enough to breathe down the nape of her neck.

"Dawling. These women jozt ave yoa' name, but they will neva' be you."

As he spoke, Ziccarra's eyes glazed over with a deep blue hue, something was happening. There was a disturbance somewhere in the city.

"No beloved. These a' not yoa' people. You don't ave to go." He pleaded, holding onto her hands. But he knew deep down there was no changing her mind. Ziccarra Monae Liafador.

She was the Champion of Earth-6
She was the Champion of Earth-6

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Rey_King

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@zahra: Elio leaves his apartment after writing a new song and heads to the studio to produce some music when, a man bumped into him knocking down his papers "Watch it ,Bub!" The man yelled before disappearing into the crowd. "You Little Piece of Shi..." Elio mumbled until he saw a flash of energy. " Damn it, I got bigger fish to fry"

He starts running shoving his papers into his pocket

'Not what this city needs another powerhouse, might be a villain not sure, just kill it and move on' Elio say internally

A flash of flames surrounded him when the flames were gone he was too, the civilians were baffled. "Maybe I will get some money out of this" He wondered "The Government May want this one, even though I don't work for it nothing's wrong with a little extra money". He flies over the city searching for the energy signal. "Weird, I really can't find it". Ar that moment a gunshot was heard "SHIT" Elio yelled before diving into the scene, he looks at the criminal running "Forget it the police don't give me money, that's all that matters right know" He searches the corpse for valuables, founding an hundred dollar bill "This'll last me about a weak or so, thanks" He pats the lifeless body's head and continues his searching.

"Maybe I should just ditch music and be a bounty hunter?" He questions himself

"Nah... Music is least stressful than having to kill."

He Disperses his flames lowering himself to the ground hoping to find a victim."Ma'am, did you and your son see anybody suspicious, like me but not me, you know?" Elio looks at the man who seems to in his 40s

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Rey_King

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@zahra: "Nah Man, I ain't seen nobody suspicious" The man responds, " But I'll Let you know if i see someon..." Before the man finished his sentence Elio flew from the empty streets to the dark skies. "Sir" The man says in his radio "I think I found the man". A female voice answers the radio " Ok, I'm sending in reinforcements, just follow him, they'll be there in a few".

"Copy that" The Officer says ""Goddamn it always giving me the hard job" He gets into his car and follows the streaks of flames in the sky.

No Caption Provided

Elio lowers himself at the dark and empty alley of the entrance of the studio, he enters inside studio where two big ,African American men block him from entering the studio lobby "Don't worry boys he's with me" A Hispanic female gently pushes the bodyguards away. " I got the lyrics with me, Mia". After he finished his sentence a long finger, with red nail polish, slowly presses against his lips "Shh, you call me Lady Slasha".

She takes the music lyrics and hands him a duffel bag "Johnny, needs help he's at the Fidelity Bank, you know the drill" The Bodyguards escort him to the door while a line of police in front of him. "PUT YOU HANDS IN THE AIR AND DROP THE BAG". Elio drops the bag immediately , and raises his hand 5 police officers run to him with their guns pointed at him. Elio Smiles and the 5 officers are fiercely burned. "FIR..." A flash of fire and screams on second, silence and darkness the second. Elio looks at the skeletons of what once used to be police officers. "Well, Time to help Johnny". Elio picks up the duffel bag from behind him and exits the alley into the dark, cold road.

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Black Solace

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@rey_king

Blitzing high over the city layered in a thin film of air the Ziccarra monitored the developing situation from afar. From what she could gather there was a man gunned down on the streets, and now there was sort of a bank robbery going on.

This America was no different than her own. "These people ave no wegawd fo' thee' own statesmen" She groaned before landing adjacent to a dark alley and a long road. Positioning herself inbetween a man with a duffle bag and what seemed like his escape route.

"That does not belong to you, come peagefully and no one will ave to get a't" She asserted, pointing in the man's direction with her own crimson energy climaxing but not firing just yet.

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Rey_King

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@zahra: Elio looks at what happens to be a cosmic being "Well, First off if you want make threats speak properly." Elio puts the duffel bag on his back in a book bag like position"Second, Um... How about No" Elio starts to gradually heat up,looking in the sky "Man, the police really stepped up their game" he mumbled, while flames flickered under his feet lifting him in a rocket like manner. "I have somewhere to be lady, if you want lunch just call" he zips away in a spark of light heading towards his apartment.

No Caption Provided

Elio lands slowly of his open window patio, and steps inside. "If the Pigs keep recruiting Aliens then they may have a chance of capturing me" Elio starts to change when when a familiar voice yells "Package, for Agni" Elio quickly opens the door to find a 13 yr old boy hand him a box "Johnny, what a surprise." yells Elio in a surprise tone

"SHH" Johnathon responded quickly , "What, if the cops are here"

"If they were here they'd be dead, now come on in and have a drink" Elio gesturing the boy to come in, before closing the door he peers down the hallways to make sure the he was clean. "Are you sure, there are no roaches here" John questions looking around the room "No, I did a check" Elio answers defensively.

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Hawkshade

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Hawkshade scowled as he took in the scene before him. Two dozen police officers surrounding the barricaded home of a mentally ill man who had taken his family hostage.

His mother was already dead. Gunshot wound.

The tall man turned up his cowl's audio magnification and he could hear the man talking to himself in nonsense phrases as he paced the hardwood floors of his house. Word salad. Severe schizophrenia.

The volume of his footsteps told Hawkshade the man was about 156lbs and the spacing between footfalls meant he was roughly 5'7.

His sister and younger brother were hiding behind the couch, both sobbing. The schizophrenic was growing more and more agitated.

One ear was tuned to the encrypted police band. SWAT team incoming. Fifteen minutes out. They'll kill him.

That was all he really needed to know.

The six foot four man exploded from his hiding place across the street and sprinted toward the police cordon at full speed, one hand flashing down to his belt and unleashing a stun Iaculum that spun through the air ahead of him. One officer shouted STOP and his eyes widened as he grabbed his pistol but it was too late-- the Iaculum exploded.

There was light and sound. Bright enough to blind everyone within fifteen years and loud enough to disrupt the fluids in the inner ear.

Hawkshade's lenses dimmed and his cowl dampened the sound to a dull pop.

The police cordon collapsed and Hawkshade front-flipped clean over a police interceptor with pristine technique he had duplicated from an Olympic gymnast, landing and carrying his momentum forward as he dashed up the stairs blasted through the front door shoulder first, wood splintering under the momentum of his two hundred and forty pound frame.

The gunman spun, finger on the trigger.

Hawkshade rolled. A .357 round ripped through the air above him. In close quarters it would have been deafening save for his cowl's sound suppression.

The recoil jerked the man's hand up and Hawkshade rose from the roll into an uppercut, huge legs driving him upward from the ground and kinetic chain carrying all of his momentum into his rising fist.

It hit the man's chin with a crack like a tree being felled. Hawkshade snatched the gun from his hand as he fell, stuck a smoke Iaculum into the nearest wall to cover his escape and leaped through the back window, sprinting down an alley and vanishing while the police swarmed the building in his wake like angry hornets.

He'll have a concussion. But he'll be alive.

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Alpha_Dog

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The bayou was stained red, tonight.

Dog popped the lid off the cooler and fished around in the half-melted ice until he came up with a beer. He crossed the floor of the shack to an old couch that had seen much better days and made himself comfortable. As he popped the cap off his drink and slaked his thirst, he listened to the sounds of the gators as they discovered what was left of the shack's former inhabitants and dragged them off into the swamp. Nothing like a place that came with some free cleaning staff.

He didn't have long to wait. The sound of the airboat gave him ample notice, but he didn't even bother getting up from the couch as the tread of booted feet approached the shack and several rough-looking men pushed their way inside, only to stop short when they noticed the building's new occupant. "Evenin' fellas," Dog greeted them with a grin. "Care fer a cold one?" Instead of taking him up on his offer, they reached for their weapons. They weren't fast enough.

After tossing their remains to the waiting gators, Dog sauntered over to their boat and examined their cargo. His guess was confirmed: they were smugglers, all right. They'd take their boat out to the edge of the bayou, picking up their shipment from a larger boat that came in from the Gulf, and bring it back through the swamps to make its way to the black market. And this shipment was exactly what Dog had been hoping for: guns. Big ones.

It looked like he had himself both an ideal location for a cache, and plenty to stock it with. The climate wasn't to his liking, but sometimes you just couldn't afford to be picky, when an opportunity presented itself.

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Tessa_Callahan

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I forgot I made this

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Alpha_Dog

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Grimmwald

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Alpha_Dog

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Grimmwald

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@alpha_dog: (You're the best, mano!)

His fractured elbow always stung at the thought of him - of the mad dog whose blood he and Ashley had spilled. He wasn't healed, not yet. It'd be weeks until he was fully recovered, till he was in the condition to maim, batter and punish. But it didn't matter. Grimmwald was a predator. He hunted. He stalked the shadows for his prey, for men and women with hearts blackened by evil. He'd find them, drag them into the pits as black as their hearts and he'd pluck their eyes from their sockets, crush their larynges and peel their faces from the bone. They would live - they always lived. But they'd pray to God for death after.

So here, in a bayou in New Orleans, Grimmwald hunted. Left arm swallowed by an armored cast and held by a sling round his neck, he hunted like a wounded animal. The pale light of the silver moon draped over his back like a cape as he crouched high on a tree branch. The chirping songs of crickets hung high in the air, and the swampy musk of wet moss and plants was like a thick haze for the nose. But he crouched there, still as a shadow moments after Dog had smeared the wooden walls of a shack with it's owners' blood. Grimmwald was too late. But as his red eyes raked over the bloodstained shack, he rasped a word. A name. "Dog".

Grimmwald was no fool. Not foolish enough to challenge Dog alone, and certainly not with a limp arm. But he was hunting. Perhaps not there to claim his prey, but study him. Learn his habits, his strengths. His weaknesses.

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Alpha_Dog

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@grimmwald:

Dog had just popped the cap on beer number three when he heard it. Or rather, didn't hear it. Grimmwald was too perfectly trained to ever betray his presence with something as simple as a sound, but to someone as near to being a wild animal himself as Dog was, the sudden stillness around the outside of the shack was as deafening as a canon shot. In a swamp like this, the environment was a constant buzz of every kind of critter imaginable, but this was their home; when something was out of place, when a predator was approaching, they grew silent and still.

He tilted his head, raising his nose and inhaling deeply. Nothing. Whoever or whatever was out there was smart enough to approach from downwind, then. He stood, crossing to the door, and pushing it open. Hungry eyes glared out into the bayou night, ears alert for the slightest sound. Still nothing. If he didn't know better, he'd think that his instincts were mistaken, and that there was nothing out of place. But he did know better, and his instincts were never mistaken.

Fine, then. It just so happened that he had some new toys to play with, and when you thought there was a snake in the high grass, you either stayed clear, or you ct down the damn grass. He stepped back into the shack, emerging a moment later with a piece of hardware he'd recovered from the smugglers' shipment: a military-grade minigun. Grinning like a drunken fool, he set about doing away with more foliage than the entire newspaper industry.

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Grimmwald

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@alpha_dog:

Gunshots. Bullets. They rang louder than most people would ever care to know. Buzzing like bees stirred into a fierce defense of their hive. But Grimmwald was ready. Broken arm and all, he was ready. The vibrations of Dog's heavy feet bounced off the wooden floorboard, rippled through the air and whispered a warning to Grimmwald's hyper-sensitive dermis. Move! It shouted. He felt it, the vibrations of fingers grazing a minigun's firing pin and his ears caught it - the quiet before the storm. He listened to his senses and moved. Slithering into the dark embrace of a shadow, Grimmwald walked a world of darkness with the Khaba skill of the Strigidae as his cane.

He moved from one shadow to another, clung to the side of a wet tree trunk like a spider on a wall as Dog brought down a wall of trees with a hailstorm of gunfire. Trees were snapped in half and bits of tree bark flung across the air like debris in a war zone. Glancing at a leaf falling from a branch hanging limp from a tree, Grimmwald was silent, holding his tongue until the gunfire died. "Good. I was afraid you'd turned a new leaf since the last time we met", he mocked, ruby eyes staring a hole through Dog. He was dangerous. And Grimmwald would never be so foolish as to close the distance - with or without both his arms.

"I thought you were a killer. A broken arm is all you got to give? Come get me, friend".

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Alpha_Dog

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@grimmwald:

When he came right down to it, guns just really weren't Dog's tool of choice. It wasn't that they were noisy and smelly (though he'd killed men for less reason), they just didn't offer the satisfaction of killing someone up close and personal, of sinking his fangs and claws into flesh and feeling bones snap beneath his blows. That being said, though, they had their uses; this one had certainly gotten his mysterious visitor's attention. It didn't stop him from tossing it aside like an empty beer can once it was out of ammo.

The voice was familiar, and the scent...yep, it was him alright. Dog flashed Grimmwald one of his trademarked sadistic grins, and stretched, flexing both of his own regenerated appendages. "Busted arm not enough fer ya? Seeing as it's still slowin' ya down more than the two ya took from me, I figured I was bein' generous." He hooked his clawed thumbs in his belt, leaning casually against the wall of the shack. "Quit hidin' in the damn swamp, devil-man. Heck, ya got more o' that stuff ya hit me with in Gothic, I'll trade ya fer a couple o' brewskies. That stuff was pretty wild."

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Tessa_Callahan

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smh

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Grimmwald

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@alpha_dog:

There it was. The white of that sickening grin flashing in the night. Fighting the urge to answer Dog's grin with a scowl, Grimmwald cooled his boiling blood with a calm breath and sunk into a shadow draped over the tree trunk. Emerging on a long branch, he strode to it's end, his feet soundless and the branch uttering nay a creak. It was almost as though he wasn't there, as if he were nothing but a red silhouette - a mirage. But he was real. As real as the mutant power and skill that made his balance and equilibrium impossible. Glancing at Dog's outstretched arms, he watched the silver moonlight glide over the contours of the mad hound's muscled forearms, then lifted his eyes to Dog's with a smirk.

"Sure you don't want me to do your legs? Let you regrow them too? Even your limbs out?", he taunted before catching more of Dog's words. "Oh I'm not hiding, friend", he rasped, seating himself on the edge of the branch in clear view. Meeting eyes with Dog as he faced him, Grimmwald dared him. "I'm right here. Looking you in the eye telling you to come get me".

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Alpha_Dog

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@grimmwald:

Dog's gaze followed Grimmwald as he settled himself on the branch. It was some damn impressive balance and agility; the guy was good. Smart, too, the way he was staying clear and trying to goad his enemy into a hot-headed attack. It wasn't the feral mutant's favorite part of the game, but it wasn't without enjoyment.

"Ya know," he continued, making no move towards Kellan, "'fore ya hit me with that staff the other night, I caught yer scent, and the scents o' some others clingin' to ya. Yer close with Ivana's boy, and with that cute little redhead I had that hot date with. Explains why ya'd be after me. Ya should've finished me off when ya had half a chance, though, 'cause now I know how to hurt ya. How about that cutie ya had with ya the other night, the one who smelled o' coffee and hand sanitizer? Wouldn't mind givin' her some o' the same lovin' I gave red. Maybe I'll break all yer limbs and let ya watch, see an artist at work."

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Grimmwald

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@alpha_dog:

He mentioned Richard, his greatest friend. Tessa, his youngest sister through everything but blood. And Ashley... he couldn't help but think of the deep blue shade of her eyes. He liked her. And it was a challenge like no other to keep his blood from boiling. But somehow, someway, perhaps by marshaling the cold-blooded streak from his days as a killer - Grimmwald held his composure, shut his eyes, and to Dog's threats, he answered simply. "So?". The word hung in the air, taunting the mad hound and making light of his promise to break all his limbs.

"Look, it might've been funny if I dragged this banter along, cracked a joke about how you're barking up the wrong tree... but I'm right here. You've said what you've had to say, I listened. Now", the Horned Saint paused, red eyes catching the moon's faint glow, "Shut your mouth, and come get me".

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Alpha_Dog

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@grimmwald:

Dog chuckled. Yeah, this guy had some skills; there was no way that the threats hadn't hit nerves, but you'd never know by his reaction. "Nothin', huh? Fair enough." With that, he transformed instantly from sedate into savage, hurling himself forward like a charging tiger in a flying tackle...but he didn't aim for Grimmwald. Instead, he slammed into the trunk of the tree in which he was perched like ten tons of tractor-trailer, digging his claws in and twisting, even as his feet dug into the ground and pushed harder. Wood cracked like a gunshot, and tree toppled.

That wasn't the main part of Dog's attack, however. He'd seen Grimmwald's agility on display enough to know that, even injured, the man would have no difficulty sticking the landing from the tree. Rather than let the massive piece of timber simply hit the ground, he dug his claws in deeper, and heaving backwards with all of his enormous strength, he swung the log at Grimmwald like a gigantic bludgeon.

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Grimmwald

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@alpha_dog:

The wind howled, racing through the bayou and rustling the leaves on whichever trees still stood. Rolling his neck, Grimmwald blinked, and his skin screamed it's warnings till he heard them. The night air came at him in a wild gust, and Alpha Dog slammed into the tree like a boulder. The tree snapped like a twig, yet as it fell, Grimmwald never lost his balance or composure. Dog had already broken his arm, Grimmwald wouldn't be so reckless again. The muscle fibers twitched in his legs, and the Horned Saint was vaulting through the air in a heartbeat - not to land in the murky waters as Dog expected - but to cling to the trunk of one of the only other trees still standing.

His boots and right glove clung to the bark like glue that stuck molecules together. But again his skin screamed, warning him of the cries of a tree trunk swinging through the air to smash into him without mercy. Pushing off his legs, Grimmwald vaulted over the swinging tree trunk and watched it blast into the other tree like a warhead, breaking it in half and hurling splinters in every direction. He's still as fast as I remember, Grimmwald thought, landing in the water before disappearing under it's murky surface. He clung to every shadow, moving and following them till he'd slithered upon another tree. His scent was gone now. He wreaked of all the things lurking in the bayou's water. He'd seen Dog's speed, so as he stuck to the base of a tree and lounged in it's shadow, he tested the depth of the mad hound's senses.

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Alpha_Dog

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@grimmwald:

This guy was quick. Hitting him was like playing a high-stakes game of whack-a-mole. Dog threw the tree aside, snarling in frustration. His foe had seemingly disappeared, managing to somehow hide himself from both sight and smell. Dog crouched, ready to spring, ears alert for the slightest sound, and palms spread wide on the soggy ground, seeking any vibration that might indicate a man-sized being moving in his immediate vicinity.

"Yer a fast one, devil-man," Dog growled into the sweltering night air. "Can ya keep goin' as long as I can, though? I can do this fer days. Sooner or later, yer gonna start to slow, start to get careless, and then I'm gonna make ya think that what I did to Red was a gentle massage."

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Grimmwald

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@alpha_dog:

Lurking under the shadow of a tree with his back against it's wet trunk, Kellan said nothing while his ears caught every menacing growl that flowed out Dog's throat. Instead, the Horned Saint steeled his nerves and breathed in the moist air, pulling it into his lungs and shutting his eyes. He was shooing all his other senses and pouring his focus into the one sense that had never failed him - his hyper-sensitive dermis. He felt the water pooling round his thighs, felt the soft ripples of strange fish zigzagging through the murky waters, and the deep rumble of Dog's voice. There, Kellan thought, now knowing where the mad hound lied.

Dog was right. Kellan was not Dog. And he held nay a shred of the endurance that he did. But he was no fool. He didn't seek him out and egged him on without a plan because he knew. He knew that Dog never tired. That the mad hound could regrow his limbs faster than he could draw his breaths back. So as he stood there, hidden from sight and smell, broken arm and all, Kellan whistled, "Here boy!", he mocked before sinking into the water and gluing himself to the shadow of a passing fish.

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Alpha_Dog

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@grimmwald:

"I see what yer doin', devil-man," Dog snarled. "Ya know ya can't take me, so yer tryin' to aggravate me into makin' a mistake. Thing is, I can hurt ya, even if I can't find ya. Play stone-cold killer all ya want; ya wouldn't be here if the lives o' yer friends didn't mean anything to ya. I'll put the devil back in hell by puttin' his friends through it!" With that, Dog was moving, heading to the airboat tied to the shore, and firing up the engine. "Or ya can prove me wrong and stop me right now, pal. Yer call!"

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Grimmwald

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@alpha_dog:

Lurking under the bayou's murky water like an ambush predator, Kellan waited and waited, but Dog never came. His eyes never caught a pair of silhouetted boots stomping through the water. Instead, his skin felt the vibrations of the mad hound's voice - of his warnings. And with over a decade of training his mutant power, making out the exact words from the vibrations of Dog's voice was no challenge. Breath held inside his lungs, the Horned Saint shut his eyes and slithered from one shadow to another - from a fish's to the airboat. The airboat his senses warned was where Dog's steps stomped towards. A second later and Kellan had strapped a ring of grenades across the airboat's belly.

And with the pins dangling from his fingers, he vanished, stepping to one shadow then another then another then another - until he'd left the bayou. He was satisfied. He'd learned what he'd come to learn. Dog's strengths and weaknesses. The mad hound was strong, freakishly so. A savage killer faster than the heart could beat. But as the Horned Saint climbed out the shadow of a building in the streets of New Orleans, he knew one thing. Dog was impatient. He could be easily frustrated if kept from spilling blood. And that, the Horned Saint believed, could be used to the Shadow Knights' advantage.

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Tessa_Callahan

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This makes me want to bring Natalia back out.

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Alpha_Dog

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@grimmwald:

The impact with something large and solid drove the breath from his lungs. It took him a moment to realize that what he had hit was, in fact, the swampy ground. He pushed himself to his feet ignoring the ringing in his ears as he shook the cobwebs from his head and popped a shoulder back into place. A look at the shredded remains of "his" airboat as it sunk into the boggy water told the story. Whether this was Grimmwald's plan all along or the guy was just great at improvising, he'd gotten the upper hand.

"Alright, devil," he called into the Louisiana night, unsure if his foe was even still around to hear him. "That's two, now. Lightning may strike twice, but not a third time. Next time we cross paths, yer gonna learn that ya ain't the only one who can set an ambush."

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Grimmwald

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Beremud

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@grimmwald: Same! We need to do more completely random things.

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Grimmwald

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@beremud: Agreed. Random interactions bring a lot of momentum!

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Hawkshade

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The prototype glider-cape hung from his shoulders like a sheet of liquid obsidian while he crouched at the edge of the steel and glass tower. Below him lay the grid of streetlights and the swirl of red brake lights as midnight commuters ground through the clogged city streets.

Since Mexico he had made improvements. Gone were the wires taped to his shirt and the switch strapped to his belt. The new cape was slick to reduce drag both in the air and under water and to make it difficult for someone to grab. It was also activated by an eye-flick switch in his cowl.

He took a running start and leaped.

The pavement raced up toward him. Flick. The cowl snapped into a glider shape and Hawkshade twisted his upper body to weave around a pair of buildings. It was working. He laughed and banked to the left to avoid the antenna of a national radio station and the glider collapsed into a cape.

He tumbled wildly as he fell. Flick. Flick. Flick! Nothing.

Desperate he ripped the grappling hook off his belt and hurled it with every fiber of strength in his body. It took hold on the metal of an apartment complexes fire escape and nearly ripped his arm free from it's socket as it halted his fall and swung him around the building. He let go to avoid being smashed against the side of the building and tucked into a flip, landing in a three point stance on the next rooftop with the flawless precision of an Olympic athlete (the move was, in fact, replicated from an Olympians performance.)

He sighed.

It still needed work.

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Warsman

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American underground fighting leagues were always somewhat of a spectacle. In other countries you would have food, maybe a few dozen people, but the turnout hardly ever exceeded a hundred. They kept it small. Localized. Police had a hard time tracking where they were being held, or who died in the process.

But no, of course everything in the States had to be commercialized. Sensationalized. Huge, bold, and loud. Warisi sat in the locker room, finding it more accommodating than many of the hotel rooms he stayed at over the past few months. Well, "rooms" would be a stretch. At least this place had running water. The place was somewhere underneath New Orleans, having just been recently reopened following a police raid.

It was supposed to be a farewell to some of the more prestigious fighters. They were retiring before what they thought would be the next swatting.

The only reason the last show was raided was because of some punk on livestream giving tips to the local law enforcement. First mistake was making it a public event, trying to rake in revenue through the dark web. But this time it was private, password-encoded. Or something like that. The Warsman didn't follow all the details, but it was the last chance he had to participate in this arena.

He was scheduled for a special exhibition match later on in the evening. "Steel Jaw" Malone, they called him. Mutant with an unbreakable skull, could smash apart other people as if they were being pelted by a mace. He already had a showing, something of an inaugural bloodletting. A sacrificial lamb, to say the least. It's what the wrestling industry would call a "jobber", almost. An inexperienced fighter who was given a shot at greatness. One headbutt and he couldn't see anymore. Two went straight through the bone. Malone would keep the blood on his face as part of his ritual to make the matches seem more "weighty" and "grandiose".

Warisi liked that idea.

Soon, their match came. They weren't showboats, or champions of the people. They were both killers, hardened and ambivalent. Stepping back to their corners, the only sound that resonated throughout the arena was the lingering echo of the first round bell.

Malone wasn't subtle, to say the least. A steamroller would be a more apt description of his overall disposition rather than human. Blatant disregard for his own safety, sticking out his invulnerable head to gauge and intimidate. But all Warisi did for that first round was perform tests of his own. A few jabs at the infamously dense bone, most notably focusing on the left side of the face. A couple rounds of this passed. Malone managed to land a few glancing hits, but for the most part his left eye was completely swollen shut. Not a single bloody tooth, however, and he had confidence in his continued persistence.

The crowd was getting antsy, but Warisi wanted to give them a show.

No Caption Provided

At the top of the fourth, Malone charged ahead as he always did. A liverblow was incoming, but the Warsman shot out for the wrist and hooked his legs around the offending arm, twisting the Steel Jaw down. He almost instantly got back up, but he didn't expect an enormous spinning kick to the face. The impact knocked sweat off Malone's face in vaporized puffs.

He crumpled to the ground, and the first thing he did was stumble. He never stumbled, not from head injuries. That's when he felt the pain in his neck.

Just as a crane carefully aims to impale a fish, Warisi had isolated a weakness from a strength. In one swift motion he didn't just break Malone's neck - he had twisted it almost a full 180 degrees.

The match was decided then and there, and those in attendance would hardly forget the fluidity of Warisi's unnaturally graceful movements. It was as if he ceased to be human for a split second, becoming one with the air around him. Growing and shedding feathers all for the moment of that one kick.

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Mockingjay

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@gripper:

Making his way downtown, walking fast, faces pass and he's homebound. That's where he was headed, but not until he got wasted. Or try to anyway. It's been stressful these past few weeks for him so Bobby decided to find the nearest bar to hit the bottle and ease the pain, even if it was temporarily. Before entering the bar though, he pulled out a cigar and lit it with one of the many lighters from his coat pocket. "Now it's time." The bar door opened and Simmons found the nearest place to rest at, sitting there gently.

No Caption Provided

He continued to smoke and said, "Gimme like four beers. Y'know just to kick things off 'cause this'll be a long, long night..."

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Gripper

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#891  Edited By Gripper

@mockingjay:

Overwhelmed with a busy day, Jack wanted nothing more than to sit down and toss a few back. In the last few weeks he had taken down a small gang, prevented a mad scientist from getting a shrink ray and even helped a magician save the world. Add to that, his best friend was shouting in his ear through it all. But as luck would have it, he happened to find a local bar on the streets of New Orleans, one he was unfamiliar with. “Well bless my soul..” he remarks as he opens the front door, “I thought I knew everydrinking hole in the city!

Inside he shuffles his way to the bar, only to find the place empty except for the bartender and a hairy man resting a few seats down. Seeing that they were alone Jack couldn't help but look at the stranger and make the drinking man’s joke, “You know they always say its better to drink alone, but when there is two, it’ll do!” With that in mind he moves closer to the stranger, after informing the bartender, “Pour me one of whatever he’s having,but make it a tall glass of Jack Daniels.And another for my friend here!” He then offers his hand for a shake, while still holding on to the informality of the club, “The name is Jack....” he nods out of respect, “I hope you don’tmindifIjoin you?!?!

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Gripper

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@mockingjay:

(OOC- I am so sorry about the mushed words,

I hope you don’tmindifIjoin you?!?!

But for some reason the computer loves to do it to me)

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Mockingjay

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@gripper:

This is where the animal-like senses came into play, quickly hearing and smelling someone nearby. He planned to ignore it, but the sound kept going and going like the Energizer Bunny. Annoyed, Bobby eventually turned around to see where the sound was coming from. It was just a man approaching. Or it seemed like that. His attention briefly went off the stranger as his drinks finally came. Bobby didn't respond to nothing he said besides when a name was dropped.

The name is Jack....

No Caption Provided

"What, are you expecting me to be oh so kind in return? Never tell a random your name, no matter what. You're playing Russian Roulette here, kid." he growled. "You may join me, though I don't trust you just in case I didn't make it crystal clear."

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Gripper

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@mockingjay:

Jack considered himself fluent in the art of drinking, from your choice of poison to what you do or say. But surprisingly enough he never had another person, ‘Growl’ at him and openly mock him. Where it not for the fact he hadn’t talked to another person in weeks, other than his smarter half through an ear piece, he would have told the stranger, “Well then a happy goodbye and screw you too!” But instead he choose to play it cool and see where the night takes him, after all the stranger looked as if he knew the neighborhood, and could be a fountain of information.

With a bit of a cocky attitude he smirks, only to say, “I never said Jack was my real name..” as he nods down to the bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand, suggesting that ‘Jack’ was a non de plume!

Raising his bottle for another sip, he excepts that the stranger did not trust him and even answered back, “Well there is no reason you should. After all, where’s the fun in that?!?!?

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Mockingjay

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@gripper:

With a bit of a cocky attitude he smirks, only to say, “I never said Jack was my real name..” as he nods down to the bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand, suggesting that ‘Jack’ was a non de plume!

He slightly chuckled, surprised by the response. But his poker face was perfect, and played it perfectly. "Geez, kid. That was a terrible comeback, joke or whatever. Even if Jack is not your name, you don't refer to the frickin' bottle. It's... unfunny." Bobby had a cigar in one hand and a bottle in the other, alternating between smoking and drinking.

Raising his bottle for another sip, he excepts that the stranger did not trust him and even answered back, “Well there is no reason you should. After all, where’s the fun in that?!?!?

Horizon slid his chair back to make himself more comfortable, kicking back and placing his feet on the table. "Hmm." he nodded, approving of the response. "Okay, so why'd you decide to come here and drink with me?"

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Gripper

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@mockingjay:

It was like a freaking interrogation with this guy. Even with what he thought was a clever opening, the stranger still mocked him. It was enough to make Jack want to shove the stranger’s cigar down his throat. However, it was now like a game of chess with the stranger, and although he really couldn't care less, he wanted to see it to the end, especially after all the effort he had put in so far!

But through it all his actions seemed vindicated, as the hairy man finally inquired, "Okay, so why'd you decide to come here and drink with me?" Leaning forward, he chuckles slightly as the question amused him, then slowly yet calmly replies, “Because you too have the ‘I’ve been screwed over’ look in your eyes!” With his eyes darting to the side as he recalls his memory he continues, “For the last few months my boss has been riding my a$$ every day.” He looks back upon the stranger, “Expecting nothing less than miracles” he chuckles again, “and then some!

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Mockingjay

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@gripper:

Leaning forward, he chuckles slightly as the question amused him, then slowly yet calmly replies, “Because you too have the ‘I’ve been screwed over’ look in your eyes!

"So it's that obvious, huh?" He smiled, raising his bottle preparing for a toast. "To the one's that's being screwed over. Cheers," he said with a calm tone. It was just mind games as he didn't expect the stranger to return the favor. Let's see how it plays out...

For the last few months my boss has been riding my a$$ every day.” He looks back upon the stranger, “Expecting nothing less than miracles” he chuckles again, “and then some!

He remained in the same laid back position, raising an eyebrow. "Ah. Bosses. I hear they're the worst. If you don't mind me asking, what's your occupation?"

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Gripper

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@mockingjay:

Finally things were getting friendly. Not only did the stranger let down his guard, but he also raised his glass in a toast. "To the one's that's being screwed over. Cheers," With a shirt eating grin Jack raises his glass as well, only to follow with a renowned, “Amen to that!” as he tips back his bottle for a firm sip. Then in a order to get more comfortable, he straightens out his trench coat, while wiping away the excess alcohol from his lips, only to tilt his bottle sideways, as a sign of respect, followed with another silent, “Amen Brother!

It was then, in a rather nonchalant way, the stranger asked him “If you don't mind me asking, what's your occupation?" as he remained in the same laid back position looking across the table. For a few seconds Jack remained silent, as he tried to think of an appropriate answer, one that would not give away his secret identity. Then after a soothing breath he answers, “Well I’m not going to tell you everything. That would ruin the mystery.” Again he takes another sip, this time in the form of a huge gulp, as he places the bottle on the table and finishes with a “Lets just say I’m like a janitor, a high price janitor, one that cleans up the worst messes!

But, just to keep the conversation going, he leans back while placing his hands behind his head, and after a relaxing, “Yawn” he begs the question, “and what should I call you?

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Mockingjay

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#899  Edited By Mockingjay

@gripper:

Mm. Surprised" thinking to himself and finishing off the drink, tossing the empty bottle with precision in the nearest trash can. "Amen well, yeah, I guess."

Well I’m not going to tell you everything. That would ruin the mystery.

"And 'course you wouldn't. I was expecting nothing less. Only a fool would do such a thing." Mockingly he said it, eyeballing the stranger.

Again he takes another sip, this time in the form of a huge gulp, as he places the bottle on the table and finishes with a “Lets just say I’m like a janitor, a high price janitor, one that cleans up the worst messes!

Raising out of his seat to respond, "Janitor? As in cleaning? Or is this just a trick answer? The barrage of questions was just asked to extend the encounter as he didn't expect an answer.

But, just to keep the conversation going, he leans back while placing his hands behind his head, and after a relaxing, “Yawn” he begs the question, “and what should I call you?

Took him some time to reply. At first he just wanted to ignore the question period, but then he decided to say a name. A fake one. "Skye. The names Skye. Vacating the seat he begin to leave, swiping the bottles and making a suggestion. "Walk with me, kid."

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Gripper

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@mockingjay:

It was definitely an odd conversation, with highs and lows, but Jack was enjoying it. Even when asked about his occupation, he felt it was going well. Granted the stranger did not believe him when he said he was a janitor, but he did have him interested. Just to keep things going Jack explained, “Well I’m not exactly a Janitor, but I do try to clean up messes.” He then shrugs and snickers, “But you’d be amazed at what my boss considers a mess!

Finally, the conversation turned after Jack asked for the strangers name, only to which he replied back "Skye. The names Skye.” Obviously, Jack didn’t believe it, mainly because the name didn’t match the look, but what the hell, Skye was better than nothing. Pleased to make his acquaintance, Jack was ready to buy another round, and even up grade to something stronger, but all of a sudden Skye got up to leave.

Assuming the stranger had someplace else to be, Jack fumble through his pockets to pay the bill, plus a generous tip for the man behind the bar. But just as he was about to call it a day, his pal made the odd comment "Walk with me, kid." Immediately, Jack looked back with a, “Who are you calling a kid” look, only to answer back, “And just where do you plan on going?? Sport!”