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[Completed]What makes the world go 'round
Topic Started: Oct 1 2017, 08:16 PM (585 Views)
Roy
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Roy was in the bar, again. He came here almost every night now. He pulled out his wallet to pay for another drink, he looked in to the wallet. It was filled with more than some people had in their bank accounts, but he carried it around like nothing.

The old man at the bar came around and brought him another drink. He took it and handed the man far more than it what it cost. He technically didn't even have to pay for the drinks. He had power aplenty to get this whenever he wanted. But Sall was kind, and even kind to him. He never understood why but he never asked.

A lot of men would kill to be in his position, and Roy knew for a fact that that was necessary. Money, power, women, and all the things that make this cold rock keep spinning were at his fingertips. He wanted nothing to do with it.

So here he came for a few hours every night to forget where he was, and what he did. To forgot who he was. But every morning he woke up and it was all the same. He was still the guy who ran the drug trade in this part of town, he was still the guy that managed to get exactly what he wanted, and let nothing stand in his way. He was still the man who had blood on his hands, and evil in his soul that no amount of liqour could wash away.

Roy was tempted to sometimes think that he had become his father, but that wasn't true. He was far worse than that. His father had been addict, a slave to his addictions, and did what he had to to get what he needed. Roy was a slave to no one, and nothing. He had obtained this wealth and power by simply being the best. Over and over again he had the choice to keep going, or to back away. But every time he decided that what he had was never enough.

What was enough? More money? More power? A better house, a bigger car? Nothing, nothing was enough. And he should have learned that lesson long ago. Back when he used to walk the streets at night moving product himself, he looked in to the lit windows of homes who could barely afford to keep that light on. He didn't always see something special but sometimes when he glanced in he saw it, the thing that made him more jealous, more loathful than the grandest mansion, than the most impressive towering achievements of lawyers, bussinessmen, and crime lords.

A family sitting together, the parents smiling as they put out what little food they had for their children. The children laughing and enjoying what little they had. They had nothing. And for them nothing was enough.

Roy looked at his empty glass where he had tried to hide these memories, and pretend that they didn't exist. It hadn't worked, so as the old saying goes try, try again...

Roy lifted the crystal glass not taking his eyes off the counter. "Sall...I need another one..." The kind old man came over and poured him what he wanted, setting the bottle down near him and as Roy handed him more money he felt the old man's warm hand on his shoulder.

He looked in to his eyes, and noticed their pity, and for the first time he noticed that they were green. It was painful to see him look at him like that, look at him without contempt, without anger, without wanting something from him.

"You know son...no matter how far a man runs he can't outrun himself. But if a man stays where he's made himself in to something that he doesn't want to be, he'll never be able to see himself as anything different."

Roy couldn't bear to meet his gaze any longer, and so he nodded his head and stared at his glass of whiskey. His hands encircled the glass, but he left it there on the table at least for the moment being.
Edited by Roy, Oct 1 2017, 09:29 PM.
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S1lverScorp1on5
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If I were to encounter such a monster, I would likely be eaten by it. Because in truth, I am that monster.

Alex stood at a main boulevard and stared around him at the sights. Towering buildings of glass and metal, flashing multicolored lights, fancy cars for fancy men. He had never seen anything like it. It was impressive, but Alex had long since stopped being surprised by most things. Not for the first time, Alex wondered what the hell he was doing here. After spending two years out of the loop, he should've known that it wouldn't be this easy to jump right back in to society. He should've stopped to think, make a plan, anything really.

Sighing, Alex shouldered his pack and walked aimlessly through the city. What was he supposed to do, ask one of the people walking on the street if they knew where his brother was? For all intents and purposes, he was a foreigner that knew nothing about the city or its culture. A wry smile cracked his lips as he watched a group of men catcalling women as they walked by. Men hitting on women was one of the few things he could count on to happen anywhere in the world.

The walking helped clear his head, and Alex slowly formed a plan of action. He wouldn't find any of the information he was looking for right away, so the best thing to do was to earn money. Ideally there'd be some local thugs he could turn in for a bounty, but if it came to it Alex supposed he could work with the thugs. The thought soured his mood, and he reflected bitterly on the person he'd become. Willing to work with criminals for his own desires.

Even if he wouldn't find anything on his brother given that he had zero leads, it's possible that there would be some juicy bit of information regarding the local gangs and their operations. "It never hurts to stay well informed, especially if I'll be hanging around here for a while" Alex mused to himself. "And where better to go than a shady bar in the sketchy part of town" he muttered as he approached one such establishment.

Alex sighed again, already exhausted just thinking about the task ahead of him. He pushed open the door and stepped inside. The place wasn't very crowded. Good. Alex walked over to the bar and sat down next to a man who seemed to be trying to burn a hole in his glass by staring at it. "Got any cheap beer?" He asked the bartender. The man cracked open a bottle and slid it down the bar. Alex took a swig, and started formulating some questions in his head.
Edited by S1lverScorp1on5, Dec 31 2017, 12:34 PM.
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Scion
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“What do you mean you don’t think we can ‘work out’?!” The angry yells of a woman could be heard from outside the bar. From the sound of her voice, one could tell that she had just had quite a shock. There was a momentary pause that she used to take a couple of deep breaths. “What? Are nurses not good enough for a big bad hunter like you? You think that you’re better than me because you can tell me some bullcrap stories about some places you’ve never actually visited? Guys like you are a dime a dozen!”

“All I meant was that I don’t think we’re, like, compatible is all.” The defensive voice of a man could now be heard from inside the bar walls. “I’m just a fast paced kinda guy’s all. And compared to me you’re kinda old…”

The voice was interrupted by the sound of what was evidently a loud smack. Moments later, the door opened up to reveal a man in standard work clothes: white dress shirt, black dress pants, a blue tie, black shoes—the basics. Except, he had a cup of soda atop his head like a hat, the brown liquid dripping down his head as he made his way inside. As he drew closer, the other customers would soon realize that there was a bright red handprint on his cheek. Locals of York New aware of the archaeology scene would recognize him as Eustace Bell, owner of the Shooting Star Museum situated in the city.

It was an absolute travesty. One of his friends recommended he start doing something to break his habit of staying cooped up in his office cataloguing every single fossil or other artifacts of the past he’s found during excavations. He said that it wasn’t healthy for any man to “spend that much time touching gross, dead stuff.” Granted, considering that the long nights of examining his findings had weakened his mind enough to let his friend convince him to try online dating, he had to admit that he had made a good point.

“Let me guess, you want some beer too?” The bartender greeted him as he took a seat by the other customers.

“This is a bar?” Eustace looked around the place, unfazed by the soft drink still streaming down his shirt. He caught a glimpse of two men with dark auras about them and raised an eyebrow. Something about the two of them told him that they had it tough one way or the other—probably best he not pry too much about that. One seemed to be in deep contemplation about something, refusing to take another drink from his glass. Another...well, he had no clue what he could say about him. He was obviously a warrior of some sort, judging by the blade on his back and knives by his side.

Eustace scratched the back of his now wet and sticky hair while tossing the both of them a few glances. He could practically feel the tense atmosphere in the air. The bartender cleared his throat and Eustace quickly turned back to him with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry ‘bout that, I’m not old enough to drink. How about a refill?” Eustace took the cup from his head and dropped it onto the counter. It shook a bit, the base of the cup turning rapidly from side to side until it finally stabilized.

“Not old enough to drink? If you say so.” The old man looked at him doubtfully as he refilled the cup using a machine from behind him. Eustace looked from left to right, up to down, and back to front in an attempt to find whatever it was that was making the bartender give such a gaze of disbelief. Was something really extraordinary happening behind him. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you, exactly?”

“Turned 15 about two months ago.” Eustace said as the man placed his drink right in front of him.

“No kidding? You look 5 years older, at least.” The bartender gave him yet another odd look, which Eustace had quickly gotten accustomed to. “What’s a m—kid like you doing here anyhow?”

“I run a museum around here, but I’ve also been taking up some jobs around here to kill some time. There’s always so much trouble around here with all the gangs and stuff. I gotta say, it reminds me kinda of home.” Eustace’s voice was very matter-of-fact in tone, as though the crime and violence plaguing the city had become a norm to him.

“Really now? Uh...what kind of jobs?”

“Hunter related stuff.” He said, before taking his first and last drink of soda. By the time the cup left his lips, it had been completely emptied. He threw it to the side without looking and it miraculously made its way to the trash can off to the side. “There’s this guy I’m supposed to be helping track down later today—he’s a local gang member with a huge bounty. I decided to do something to get my mind offa things before I started looking for him. You can probably guess how well that went.”

Eustace gave the bartender a small grin as he gestured towards his stained brown shirt. At that, he could not resist exchanging a smile in return.
Edited by Scion, Oct 3 2017, 02:17 PM.
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Roy
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A few new people entered the bar, one of them sitting next to him and another near him. They both ordered drinks and Roy couldn't help but stare at the second customer who entered. Such a strange man, and for some reason he had a can of soda on his head?

Roy was too drunk to notice the yelling outside but this caught his eye, and so did the fact that he was looking for a local gang member. Roy pulled out his phone and sighed. He would have to have him killed. But then he looked up at Sall and his bar, he didn't want to do that here. The poor old guy already had enough problems as it was he didn't need someone getting murdered here.

Roy glanced at the two new comers again. He started to wonder who exactly he was after. If it was someone on the street level he might have to have them removed from active duty if it was someone a little higher he might have to go through a hell of a lot more trouble. He should probably figure out who had been made before he did anything with this guy, it save him some trouble later on.

If it happened to be Roy that he was looking for however...well that would surely be entertaining. He knew that they had enough cops on their payroll to keep someone's face like his out of wanted posters but who knew. Maybe his bosses finally cracked and decided that he had held his position long enough.

Roy smiled remembering the day that he was promoted. He might have hated the job he was doing but he at least had to proud of that little manuever.

Spoiler: click to toggle


Roy looked up at Sall sobering up immediately as he took on his bussiness demeanor. A warm smile played on his lips lips as he called out another round of drinks. He looked at the man next to him and and the other new commer.


"Welcome boys! it's nice to see some new faces in here, just to let you know this is the finest establishment that I have ever had the honor of attending. Drinks can be on me tonight just as long as you tell me a bit about yourself, where you come from, your name whatever else. And since we know a bit about you already" Roy nodded his head towards child who seemed to look like an adult. "You can let me help you with your search! I know a lot of guys around here that keep an eye on the street maybe we've seen him or her around. I know you said you're too young to drink so order whatever you'd like. I'll take care of it."

Roy saw Sall reaching for a bottle of whiskey and he stopped him. "None of that shit Sall. It's a special night tonight, a night of new beginnings, and new friendships. We'll take the Machallan Scotch."
Edited by Roy, Oct 3 2017, 06:10 PM.
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S1lverScorp1on5
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If I were to encounter such a monster, I would likely be eaten by it. Because in truth, I am that monster.

Alex was poised to start grilling the bartender when a commotion started outside. Apparently some man was unable to satisfy his date. Alex smirked a bit upon hearing a loud slapping noise, and worked to contain his laughter when he saw the man walk in with a soda cup on his head. The man sat down next to Alex, sandwiching him between two people. Great.

Alex sighed as the man started talking fairly openly. He didn't much care for loud company. The man described himself as a museum owner, and later a Hunter. A hunter huh? Alex didn't know much about Hunters, but he'd always been curious. Alex glanced at him again after hearing the man's interest in a high bounty among the local gangs. He didn't look like much, but Alex sensed something lurking beneath the surface. "Best to tread lightly", Alex thought to himself.

Just when Alex thought it would quiet down a bit, the man on his other side stood up and welcomed them to the establishment, which was quite a departure from his prior silence. One thing caught Alex's attention though. The man wanted to know about his past. Alex tightened his grip on his beer bottle.

Spoiler: click to toggle


Alex forced himself to calm down. That wasn't something he would reveal to just anyone. Alex stood up and turned to the standing man. He had no desire to reveal anything about himself, but he had a feeling this man would know if he was lying. Plus, there was something...off about the way he had suddenly offered to help the kid.

Alex stuck out his hand. "I'm Alex. I'd tell you where I'm from, but you wouldn't recognize the place. As for why I'm here... I suppose I'm after the bounty too now." Alex was keenly aware of the 15 year old kid sitting behind him, and felt a tingling on his lower spine with anticipation. Hunters... Alex didn't know much about them, but maybe he would learn something if he stuck around with this guy. His attention back to the man in front of him, Alex stared up into his eyes. This man on the other hand...Alex couldn't quite put his finger on it.

As Alex looked into the man's eyes, he saw his reflection, as well as a dark sadness. Just like his own. It didn't make Alex lower his guard, but something within Alex clicked just knowing that there was someone else like him out there.

OOC
Edited by S1lverScorp1on5, Dec 31 2017, 12:34 PM.
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Scion
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Eustace smelled a rat. The man’s sudden change in demeanor automatically made him cautious. From the moment he walked into the bar, he knew that there was something different about him. It was as though a dark aura had been surrounding him. For it to be dispelled and replaced with a warm smile was unbelievable. He could tell a fake smile when he saw one. After all, fake smiles were his forte. They were like masks used to prevent people from seeing the inner self. Sadness did not heal so easily. The fact that he was suddenly upbeat the second he mentioned the gang member and was so eager to help out a stranger only struck him as more odd. Whoever this guy was, he was no actor. It was like the man was struggling to keep his mask on. Lucky for the hunter, his mask was always on tight.

“Thanks, stranger, name’s Wes. Nice to meetcha.” Eustace tipped his hardhat and gave him a wide grin. It was a smile he had been practicing for the last three years, he would go as far as to say that he had perfected it. “I appreciate the offer but I don’t need the help. I prefer keeping people who aren’t related to my job strictly out of harm’s way. I’d feel kinda scummy if anything happened to you while you helped me, so no worries.”

Eustace put his hands on his thighs and rotated the bar stool to face the “kind” man. He bowed his head politely before raising his body up again, turning his attention towards the other man as he began speaking. Hm. This guy—Alex—seemed way more genuine than the other one. There was no sudden change in personality and his response matched up perfectly for the kind of man who would come into a bar by his lonesome and drink beer. Though, not revealing where he came from made him come off as a bit suspicious. Maybe he was a resident of Meteor City like himself? That definitely wouldn’t be out of place for his story. He guessed that it was his turn now.

“You’re after the bounty too, huh? Guess that makes us rivals!” A tiny crack emerged on Eustace’s mask. That was exactly what he would say, whether he was trying to keep things on the downlow or not. Now came the improv. The miner turned towards the man offering help, setting up a foundation for a cover up story in his mind. “I’ll give you a bit more so I can earn those free drinks though. I’m actually from around here. My parent’s are loaded but they’re kinda...I dunno how to say it. Dainty? I’m glad I get to do the stuff I do without riding off their name. They’d freak if they went on as many adventures as me.”

Eustace cockily patted his chest with a fist for added effect.

“You weren’t just joking about those drinks, were you? I’ll have two glasses of orange juice if that’s okay.” He stuck two fingers up as he named his request. But then, a look of confusion suddenly emerged on his face. “Oh right, I forgot to ask but what’s your name? Can’t exactly keep calling you stranger if we’re planning on starting this friendship off right.”
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Roy
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Roy waved his hand casually as the hunter decided not to reveal his target. That was merely to make things easier for him, that certainly wouldn't be necessary. However as he did so he fell forward a little bit, bumping into the man Alex and barely catching himself on the counter.

Roy was drunk, maybe not as drunk as he appeared. But he was definitely not at one hundred percent, and he would take advantage of that. Roy stammered out an apology. "Oh I'm so sorry sir, haha, I really, I'm not, Well to be honest I'm drunk."

Roy got back on the seat with a nervous laugh. He knew that he didn't have the capacity to be his usual clever self right now, but he could definitely cover up for some of his less than gracious moves with his claim to inebriation. Especially since it was the truth, the easiest lie of all to sell.

Roy positioned himself back on his seat and nodded his head sloppily as Eustace inquired about the drinks being free. "Yeah, ye-urp, yeah. They are have at it." Roy looked back down at his drink as he picked it up and drank a healthy swallow of the straight liqour. "I'm sorry about my condition guys...Alex, and uh Wes was it? It's been a really rough day for me...But I'll try and keep it together. Always love to meet new people..."

Roy's voice trailed off as he seemed to get lost in his thoughts while he stirred his drink. He should be able to come off heartbroken or something like that. IT made sense, it would excuse his depressed demeanor in the beginning, and it would explain why he was so drunk, and being drunk would explain why he was so ecstatic. At least he hoped, there was no guarentee that would work but it almost certainly wouldn't hurt.

While appearing drunk, on the inside his mind was scheming. There was no way of knowing if anything either of the two men had said was true or not. Wes had all but told him that he was going to keep his bussiness to himself. Alex...was probably telling the truth. He didn't seem to have anything to loose in it. Although two men after the same bounty showing up at this one bar was awefully suspicious...

If that were true were they after him? He doubted it. It was unlikely that either the police or his gang would be after him right now. Plenty of dirty cops to keep his face off of the posters, and not only did he have his hanging threat looming over their faces, he was just simply really good at his job. But if they were oh well...whatever happened would either work out or it wouldn't. He cared less and less each day. Although if he did get thrown in jail there was certainly someone who would be putting a bullet in his brain soon after that...

Internally Roy was surprised by this thought, not by him thinking it, but how how little he cared now that he had...

He only paused for a few moments to collect his thoughts and after a sincere hiccup, he turned back apologetically to Wes. "Oh I almost forgot my name. Hahaha. I mean not, not my, I didn't forget my name haha, I almost forgot to give it to you hahaha."

Roy ran a hand through his hair as he made the condition of his inebriation very obvious. He smiled as he spoke. "It's Roy. Roy Zimmerlan. A pleasue to meet you both I hope that I haven't scared you off I swear I really am interested in getting to know you."

Roy turned back to his drink for a moment, the familiar taste of this blend of Scotch had always reminded him of why he did the things that he did...the reason for them. He sighed as he lifted his glass in there seemingly to gauge how much liquor was left in it.

There was no reason anymore. He'd lost that long ago. First it was too get enough money to become a hunter, then it was to make enough money to afford another hunter trainer...then after that he forgot. Did he have an excuse? Something he told himself in the dark of the night while he walked the cold streets alone with just his thoughts for company? Or lying in his bed ready to fall in to a peaceful sleep...he must have told himself something, had some reason for the things he was doing. Or had he lost his soul sooner than he thought...

Roy began to use the reflection off of the glass to get a better look at the hunter. He didn't see any obvious weapons through the distorted image but if he really was a hunter he might not need them. Roy didn't know a whole lot about his kind but he knew that a bullet to the back of the skull could generally kill a man. Few exceptions. He supposed it was possible he was lying. But he would treat him like one anyway. You could never be to careful.

Almost certainly his bosses would rather leave the hunter alone. Depending on who he was going after it might actually be better to just kill the gang member, and let the hunter go. Yeah...that would actually be a lot better. Damnit then he needed the name.

Alternatively they could just access the police records or whatever else they needed, to figure out who all had bounties riding their head. But how would he know who he was after? He imagined a few guys probably had these kind of bounties, but it was one thing to have the cops on your ass and another to have a hunter.

For that matter why would a hunter be going after a low level target...shit now killing the hunter seemed like the best route to go. It was unlikely that his bosses would have a bounty on their heads from the local law...but what if hunters had special contracts? Or what if one of them scorned a rich man and he decided to just pay a hunter to take care of him? That was a very real possibility. It's not like you can just go around killing bosses and underbosses either, it would throw off the whole orginization, no one would feel safe, the potential for disaster was limitless.

Roy's mind went back and forth like this for a while, despite his drunken state his mind still worked pretty quickly, not as quick as usual but sure as hell not as slow as the average mans.

Then a very peculiar thought struck him indeed. What if...he just came clean...what if he just told the hunter that he was looking to get out of his gang and would give him whatever information he wanted if he could help him get out of the city alive...He'd often thought about it. Hell some days he couldn't stop thinking about it.

He had plans, several plans to do this. But he knew the killers that his boss, his real boss had were simply great at their job. He would be hunted to the ends of the earth and even if he made it out there a day what was the guarentee that he made it another...a week, a month, a whole year! That was a fantasy at this point!

No matter how much money he made them he knew that they would never take a pair of eyes off of him just in case...just in case that sliver of conscience he had left eventually got to him. Just in case he got some funny ideas about taking his money and going somewhere far away. Plenty of reasons to keep eyes on him. A small expense to pay for the gaurenteed money that he was bringing in every week.

No...that wouldn't work...not alone. Roy set his drink back down on the table. It was close to empty, he didn't think he would have another. Maybe it was just the alcohol running through his veins...but with the hunter on his side...no. No. NO! He'd be dead. It wouldn't even take long. He had no hope...he had no hope...He just wanted to stop thinking about this. Stop thinking these thoughts that wouldn't happen! This man just needed to die so he could go back to forgetting...

Roy reached a shaky hand back in to his pocket for his cellphone. Whoever this guy was, he was dead. It was the only logical thing to do. The only thing that Roy based his decisions off of now, that cold unfeeling logic. But then Roy looked up to feel a warm hand on his arm. And he saw green eyes, and a kind but troubled face staring at him.

After Sall got done serving the two newcomers their drinks he found his way next to Roy. He watched his movements, and he had a good idea of what he was going through. They had never had a true conversation before. But he had been watching the man for a very long time now.

After he left the bar some nights, a few of the less than savory customer's sometimes talked behind his back. A lot of it was rumors, but the fear in their voice was real. They were all so afraid of this man, they acted like death walked in his shadow.

At first he had tried to find a way to get him to stay away from his bar. He didn't want any of that kind of trouble. But before he could find a way to do that Roy spent a few nights at the bar. He never talked, not to anyone. But he saw his eyes sometimes when they weren't sunk into his drink.

They were not the eyes of a monster, they were not the eyes of a saint. They were just the eyes of a man in pain. So he let him come in. He watched the way he tried to drink himself to the point of blacking out each and every night. He couldn't understand why a man in his position would want to forget so badly, why a man who lived the life that he lived would couldn't bring himself to look him in the eye. Unless that man didn't want to be where he was.

Sall was simple. He liked it that way, and never really cared to complicate life. So he could only guess at what was keeping Roy here. But that simplicity told him one thing that Roy's devious, plotting, extraordinary mind could never figure out. The idea itself was just simply illogical, no matter how many times it was proven true. No matter how many men suffered unbearable pain, it was almost always overlooked by intelligent men.

Leaning in close to Roy, he set a hand on his arm. Sall decided to get involved for once. For years he had contented himself to simply sell the cure for a broken heart, or a low spirit, and offer some free words of encouragement on the side. But he drew the line there, there was a lot of problems in the world and he couldn't solve them all. In fact most of the time one tried they often saw a lot of these problems found a way to their doorstep. That wasn't for him. Normally what he did would be enough. But tonight it wasn't.

He whispered in to Roy's ear too quiet for the others to hear and told him the thought that had eluded his mind for so long now.

"Some things are worse than death son."
Edited by Roy, Oct 6 2017, 12:11 AM.
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S1lverScorp1on5
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If I were to encounter such a monster, I would likely be eaten by it. Because in truth, I am that monster.

The hunter introduced himself as Wes, and waved off the stranger's attempt to help him out. Looks like Alex wasn't the only one suspicious of the man. “You’re after the bounty too, huh? Guess that makes us rivals!” Fair enough. Although this put a kink in Alex's plans. He'd hoped to learn more about hunters, but that idea seemed to have been put to rest. Furthermore, Alex didn't actually know who the bounty was on. Hopefully he could stay behind after the other two had left and ask the bartender.

Wes started talking about his rich parents, and something about not riding their coattails. He was either the best liar Alex had ever seen, or he was telling the truth. It didn't really matter though. Alex just liked solving problems and figuring people out, and it irked him just a little that there didn't seem to be any lie to unravel here, especially given their situation.

The tall man fell as he waved his hand, bumping into Alex. "Oh I'm so sorry sir, haha, I really, I'm not, Well to be honest I'm drunk." Great, now this guy was rambling on after getting wasted out of his mind. Alex didn't doubt the tall man was drunk after seeing how he'd been just a few minutes ago. Still, he'd pegged the tall man for a depressed drunk, and now he was decidedly filled with boisterous energy.

The tall man nodded in response to Wes' question about the drinks being free, which brightened Alex's mood a bit. He'd never had expensive alcohol before, and now seemed like a perfect time to start. He signaled the bartender, who poured him a glass of... whatever it was. Alex had missed its name.

Alex sighed in contentment as it burned through his body. It really was good, definitely better than the piss he'd been drinking before. Regretfully, Alex glanced at his half empty beer bottle, knowing that there was no way he could drink it now. Shame it had to go to waste.

The tall man was rambling again, but Alex did catch one good bit from his slurred speech. "It's Roy. Roy Zimmerlan." Roy...now Alex had a name. He grinned internally. He could investigate his hunch. Roy had started drinking again, and seemed to be back in deep thought. Out of the corner of his eye, Alex saw Roy pull out his cellphone. The bartender grabbed Roy's arm, and looked him in the eyes. He whispered something to Roy that Alex couldn't make out.

This place seemed to be growing more dangerous by the minute. He should've left the moment these guys started asking questions. Alex prepared to get up and walk out, fishing in his pocket for his wallet. Thump. Alex's heart beat faster and faster. His right eye and forearm started burning like they were on fire, and Alex heard whispering in his head. Alex started breathing faster and faster, breaking into a cold sweat. It was Him. Something worse than death. Alex's grip tightened on his glass until it shattered in his hand.

"I thought I had him under control, why the fuck is he coming out now?!" Alex thought this to himself, aware that letting anyone know what was happening would be disastrous. His mind chugged as fast as it could through the pain, trying to figure out why He had woken up.

The alcohol. It lowered his inhibitions and broke down Alex's carefully constructed barriers. Alex breathed deeply, composing himself. He wasn't in any real danger here, as long as he calmed down. The only danger here was if someone pissed him off, he might lose control. The bartender was looking at him funny after having broken the glass.

"I'm sorry about the glass, I'll pay" Alex said, his voice shakier than normal. "Got anything to help me sober up quick?" Sall looked at him doubtfully. He didn't often get requests to sober up, and this guy seemed to be on the verge of a mental breakdown. "All I've got is ice water" Sall informed him. Alex grabbed it out of Sall's hand and drained it. The cold shocked him, and made it slightly easier to control Him.
Edited by S1lverScorp1on5, Dec 31 2017, 12:35 PM.
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Eustace kept a blank look on his face as he observed the man further. He could not believe that a man with such a dark aura could change his tune so easily. At the same time, however, he changed his movements the second he started thinking something was amiss. In and of itself that could be taken as another symbol that he was lying and trying to cover his tracks, though at the same time there was a chance that he was overthinking things and suspecting an innocent man. He struggled to not let his confusion show on his face. His movements could mean any number of things, so it was best to tread carefully for now—sudden changes in demeanors weren’t rare for drunks after all.

“Thanks, friend.” The bartender slid a glass of orange juice towards the hunter, which he caught effortlessly. He raised it to his lips and drank slowly, observing Roy’s demeanor all the while. At this point, he was trying to find any tiny detail he could to support his theory that the man was hiding something behind the face of the drunk mess he saw before him. His laughs felt a bit unnatural to him. There were interspersed in his words somewhat awkwardly, but was that out of a drunken stupor or an attempt to put up a smokescreen? He found it hard to explain why the man just had an innately suspicious air about him. To an extent, he could say the same about Alex. The two of their eyes felt like mirrors.

“Ah—nice to meetcha then.” Eustace said, finishing up his drink and placing it on the counter. The bartender held up the bottle he had gotten the juice from and inclined it towards his glass, only for Eustace to hold out an open palm. The bartender nodded, taking the glass away. Not once during this entire sequence did his eyes leave Roy’s. There was something about him that interested him. His intuition was telling him that he was bad news and he wanted to figure out why. The way he offered to help with his gang search immediately made it obvious that there was some sort of connection between them. Whether it was a relationship of cooperation or spite remained to be seen. “Eh? Why would we be scared of you? You just looked like you had a hard day is all. Lotsa people have ‘em. Do people tell you you have a scary sad face or something?”

Before Roy had a chance to answer back, an audible vibration would come from Eustace’s left pocket. He dug his right hand into it before pausing, heart practically freezing in terror. He was about to have made a fatal mistake. The vibration was from an alarm that he had set on his phone in case he lost track of time while out and about. The problem was that his phone was the last thing his rich boy persona would be caught dead with. It was a clamshell flip phone from the 90s, which he enjoyed in particular for its simplicity in design. Wes on the other hand? He doubted that he would trade in functionality for style. Eustace moved his thumb to the right to imitate sliding the alarm button off on a smartphone. Thankfully, the alarm only vibrated 5 times, ending and matching up perfectly with his “swipe.”

“Er, sorry, but it looks like I’ll have to cut things short. I spent more time than I wanna admit messing around.” Eustace rose up from his seat, a feeling of dissatisfaction weighing him down all the while. It was telling him to sit back down and force off the shroud of mystery Roy had enveloped himself in—or the veil of mystery he thrown over him, maybe? He was so focused on the drunken man that the sound of glass shattering only served to yank him out of his own train of thought to once again realize that there was, in fact, one other guest alongside with them. He turned to look at Alex, who suddenly seemed much more intriguing. He was at a loss of words; the once calm and withdrawn man had now broken out into a cold sweat, seemingly hyperventilating. Without thinking, Eustace rushed to the man’s side and placed a hand on his shoulder after he drank the ice cold water.

“You okay there, pal? Doesn’t look like you’re in gang hunting condition.”
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Roy looked back towards the sound of the glass shattering, and saw Wes stopping to check on the man. If it hadn't been for the text that Roy himself had just recieved he would have used this opportunity to pull the hunter aside, or try to get him killed. He had not yet decided what he was going to do, but the moment he saw the message his body reacted without him knowing why.

"We heard the whole thing. Keep still, will eliminate the hunter and the other bounty hunter."

Despite Roy's drunken condition he was able to respond as quick as his body would let him, throwing himself on top of both Alex, and the hunter Wes. Driving them to the ground. Not intending to harm, but rather save.

The moment their bodies would connect with the floor, a barrage of ear shattering pops was heard from outside the bar. A hail of deadly lead descended on the humble establishment tearing through the windows, the shatter of glass hardly being heard over the spray of bullets. Chunks of wood and leather flew in all directions as the seats they were sitting at were torn to shreds by the lethal projectiles.

Roy couldn't be sure what was happening to Alex, but it would have to wait. Their problems were a hell of a lot bigger than whatever kind of seizure he was going through. Roy kept their heads down with his hands as the bullets passed them by.

He wanted to close his eyes but he knew that he needed to keep them open and observe everything around himself. Exploding bar stools, windows falling to the ground in tiny pieces, a destroyed bar, bottle's and their contents getting scattered everywhere, and a red mist of blood. These are the images that his eyes managed to catch. It was chaos, and nonesense, and it happened all in the span of but a few moments. Eventually the bullets ceased to fire.

Roy's eyes kept looking around the room, until he reached a gruesome site. Torn to pieces, mangled and slaughtered, was the man Sall. Whose lifeless body rested on what was left of his once finely polished bar.

Roy's mouth was open, and his eye's widened, he couldn't bring himself to scream, to move, or to say anything. He just stared at the kind old man's shredded body, and felt droplets of his blood running down his forehead.

Roy might have stayed petrified by this horror for hours if he wasn't brought back to reality by the dull roar of something vibrating. It was the only thing that broke the overwhelming silence that followed the bullets, it came almost as if in response to their ending.

Roy swallowed, and started to breath deeply. He rolled away from the two men that he had just saved. Wondering why he had just done that, the hunter sure that made sense. He could use him, but the other one? He didn't seem like he could handle the effort of sitting up straight.

But that didn't matter, they just needed to get out of here. Roy knew from the direction of where they were firing from that would be useful. He wasn't a weapons expert but the hail of bullets seemed to come from a single gun. Just one hitman, just one weapon. But after Roy decided not to answer that call...there would be more. So many more. Images of snow white skin passed through Roy's mind. Yeah...and he might already be here too. Who knew how that man traveled, much less how fast he could do it.

He turned towards the other two, supressing his horror for the time being, and speaking urgently. " There's going to be more coming, better aim, bigger guns, and they've seen your faces. You can follow me, or you can die. I don't care which you choose but choose now."

The last vibration. The only time that Roy could be sure the hitman would be looking away from the bar, putting away his phone and reloading his primary weapon. Roy bounded upwards slamming against the bar in his drunken state, beads of liquored sweat now mingling with the droplets of blood on his face ran down his skin, getting in to his eyes. Roy rubbed the foul liquads away as he bounced off the bar and ran towards the back exit, knocking over one of the stools that remained standing, and crunching the shattered glass from the destroyed bottles beneath his feet. In the pool of alcohol and blood that had gathered around the bar Roy almost fell over, he pushed off the ground with his hands cutting them on the glass to keep himself up finally connecting with the back door.

He ran in to it with all of his force throwing it open wildly, but before he left the building completely Roy threw his left hand out against the inside wall and flipped a switch. The lights in the bar immediately going dark, this would be hard for them, but it would be wrose for whoever intended to shoot at them as they left. He hoped the others were behind him of they inteded to follow, they didn't have long. They needed to get to his safe house, the mob would be able to find it, but it would buy them some time. Minutes maybe, but these precious minutes would buy him a plan.

Exiting out of the back door, Roy would know exactly where to go. Which spots to avoid, and how to hide himself from the movements of his recently former gang. He couldn't be sure that the other's wouldn't jeaprodize his movements but truth be told he couldn't do it without the hunter, and even the other guy would come in handy he was sure, despite his odd behavour.

The alley was dark, about 10 feet wide, and lead only two ways. The left lead into the city streets, the right lead about 10 feet down into a dead end. The only light in the alley came from the half moon, illuminating the concrete landscape in a pale white light. As well as the flickering of a shallow yellow street light at the very end of the alley. Outside the door in the direction of the city there was about five feet of space, and then a pile of trash bags, next to a full dumpster.

As Roy exited the building he saw a man dressed in black hoodie and dark blue jeans, reaching in to his sweatshirt and about to pull something out. Roy leaped at him with a ferocious yell. Grabbing his hands and pinning them against the wall, preparing to crush his head against the bricks behind him until he fell unconscious. Then something fell out of his hands, and something fell out of his mouth. It was a lighter, and a cigarette.

Roy growled and threw the man aside into a pile of trashbags before the dumpster. He didn't pay attention to the man's rambling and begging for his life, he clusmily righted himself and pushing off the wall as he started to run full speed into the city.

This city was full of dangerous men, men who killed to live, men who lived to kill. The city was jungle, and the food chain was obvious. But every once in a while a clever creature found itself slinking to the top of this violent environment. Before any of the predators knew what was happening they soon found themselves prey in their very own kingdoms.

Most of the beasts at the top could not stand the thought of being challenged by lowely creatures. But sometimes the challenge was welcome, for the battle scared veterans that had sunk their teeth into more of their fellows necks than they could remember, it was a welcome distraction from there usual bouts.

As Roy's feet struck against the hard cement of the ground he knew in his mind that the man he worked for was just such a veteran. He would relish the thought of going after him, it would be nearly impossible to contain his excitement he imagined. That was going to make this harder, if not impossible. But some fates were worse than death were they not?

Roy broke into the weak light of the city streets and grabbed the corner to change directions, going right. He did not bother to look around, did not bother to look up at the buildings. He knew very well who was looking down at him.

Black sunglasses, dark suit, leather shoes which had never made a noise. Skin and hair white as snow. The albino looked at Roy as he ran past. He would haved pulled out his gun, and finished this now. But then the hunter might do something. And there was no way of knowing his strength or their relationship... Besides he was an assassin, not a warrior. He didn't like to engage in fights. Still, the traitor would never escape him... The albino began to walk in the other direction as the barest hint of his bloodlust escaped him. He breathed deeply, he needed to be patient.

Roy felt that cold prescense behind him, felt his malice, his dark intent, all intended for him. But that prescence slowly retreated, slowly returned to the master who would send it out once more.

Old lion, I'll entertain you one last time...

Edited by Roy, Oct 11 2017, 01:23 AM.
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