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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    Renegade Redd's [Open for business!]
    #1
    It was time. Time to finally let loose. There had been so many frustrations over the last few months, and Reilly could hardly stand it any longer. Who knew that running your own strain of pubs across the country could be so much work? His damn cell phone rang just about every damn minute, and oh my god, the paperwork. Thankfully he had some help though. Some trusted friends he'd hired along the way to take some- okay, pretty much all- of that off his shoulders. He felt guilty about that sometimes- okay, not really. Besides, with the rolling success he was bringing in, they were being paid bloody well. Nothing to feel guilty about. Ugh, it was ringing again. Fuck it, let it go to voicemail. Hell, he'd do one better. Pulling the accursed contraption out of his black slacks, he turned it off and shoved it back where he'd gotten it. He wouldn't be needing that tonight, if things went well. If things went really well, he could give out his number, but the last thing he needed was for his phone to go buzzing off all night.

    The red-headed man, around 28, about 6'2" and broad shouldered, had just purchased this building on Main Street, located right in the bustling center of Beqanna City (harhar). He had thought it would be perfect; the location, at least. It had previously been some kind of restaurant, but that obviously wouldn't suit his needs. Immediately upon buying it, he had everything torn out to be completely renovated. Now, all the construction was complete, and he'd had all the furniture brought in and placed. The bar was the most immaculate in the whole place, with every type of alcohol you could imagine on the wall behind it, of that he'd been the most specific in his instructions. It came out great! Nearby, a stage for primarily local bands and also a state of the art stereo system, with a huge dance floor surrounded by tables. Along the walls were large, cozy booths for eating, or conversing. There are two covered, outdoor patios with tables and chairs. One designated for smoking, and the other for relaxing and looking out over the city. The overall scheme of the place is Irish (of course), not overly lit and yet not too dark you can't see people, but mostly is warm and comfortable setting. He stood at the center of the place, eyeing everything one more time and directing staff as they prepared for the opening. Three bartenders were prepping the bar, one man and two women. One surly-looking bouncer guy. Four ladies to walk around to attend to guests- taking food orders and in charge of accepting the bills. Behind the scenes, there is a newly refurbished kitchen where his cooks were prepping and awaiting orders (they will serve any kind of food). A hostess will stand near the door, keeping track of how many guests will arrive and depart (he expects a full house). Lastly, two bus boys to pick up glasses and trash and clean tables. Should be plenty.

    "Alright, let's get this place opened up! Sheila, I will have the first drink please. You know what I want. We'll be advertising Dollar Beers, half-off cocktails, and first ten guests get their first shots free! Sound good? Okay, get the music playing and open the doors!"

    With that, he straightened his hunter green silk button-down and sauntered over to the bar where Sheila had his tall glass of Guinness and a shot of Jameson waiting for him. He tossed it back easily, then gripped his beer in one hand as he turned toward the door. He had advertised tonight's opening of Renegade Redd's all over town, and so was expecting quite a crowd.


    OOC: Omg, this sucked, but I'm so excited. Btw, the music is currently modern Irish Rock (check out The Dropkick Murphys or Flogging Molly if you're feeling bored/interested), but also a mixture of just about everything. There is a screen for the stereo system (like a jukebox, but fancier) where peeps can choose what plays.

    So, this is totally just for fun, imagine all your characters as human, and where they stand in Beqanna doesn't matter. Reilly has just opened the bar and everyone is welcome! Feel free to wing it and let loose! Let's try to keep posts short (around 150 words) and sweet, and of course IC. Let's get this party started!

    PS: Reilly looks like this as human <3 Clicky
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    #2
    The sounds of the subway bustle around him; the clicking of heels of the tiny businesswomen on their way home from the office, the scream of the brakes for oil, the robotic man's voice that states the station and the train. He moves slowly through the crowd, causing his own slip stream that some braver souls use to change direction or to avoid collisions. His eyes are occupied on his feet (because he knows his way well) as he finds his station and waits for the train to arrive. He chews on an errant fingernail absentmindedly while the sounds of a performing guitarist float towards him. Many choose to drown out the cacophony with big ear-encompassing headphones but Gun prefers the sounds of the city to any artist. 


    His train arrives and he stands to the side while the 9-5 crowd rush off in their business attire, most staring at their illuminated phone screens for those last-minute emails or texts to finalize dinner plans. He steps onboard and finds all seats full, so he stands near the door, casually observing the various commuters. At this point in the day there was a healthy mixture of those going home and those going in to work. The nightlife crowd had not yet stirred, but that was fine with him. It bought him time to get to this new bar and scope it out before the bar crawlers made their way in already completely lost and looser than penny slots. 


    Lost in his thoughts, he realizes too late that his eyes had been absentmindedly locked on a little brunette girl that looked like she was about 21 and headed in for a night of bartending. She wore all black and had her hair tied up in a messy bun, thick winged eyeliner around her brown eyes. A single hoop looped around her right nostril. She had noticed his absent gaze and was shooting him looks from behind her phone. Gun smirked and ran a hand through his dark hair, pushing it back away from his face before turning his attention to the map above the door. He could feel her eyes on him now and he smiled to himself as she undoubtedly took in all his various tattoos (the visible ones anyway) and his thick dark hair and long manicured beard. The train stops, but before he exits he is sure to shoot a quick smile her way so she has something to think about at work.

    He exits the subway and finds that the sun has begun to set and the cement jungle is starting to cool down from the heat of the day. He pulls his leather jacket on over the low v-neck white shirt he wears and continues down the sidewalk. It isn’t far to this new bar his buddy has been talking about all week and he’s grateful because he is desperate for a beer. He walks through the door and into the bar. It looks promising enough, even if it isn’t his usual haunt.  He nods to the bouncer (who looks a lot like a guy he knows from his gym) and makes his way up to the bar, ordering a pint of whatever local brew they have on draft tonight. He tells the bartender to open a tab for him, takes the pint with a small smile that is almost hidden beneath his mustache and heads outside and sits down, taking a long dreg from the glass. Sitting it down, he reaches into his jeans pocket for his box of cigarettes and taps one out and lights it, inhaling to clear his lungs of any fresh air he may have accidentally breathed on the way here. 

    He is early, so he is in no hurry to get wasted, so he simply sips on his beer and drags on his cigarette, watching the people on the street and those that come in to the bar. Should be a good night.



    OOC: I PRESENT HUMAN GUNNY: http://cdn.emgn.com/wp-content/uploads/2...GN144.jpeg


    Gunsynd is currently pretending to be someone else! He is now 15hh, hybrid, flea-bitten grey with clear blue eyes and goes by the name of Ginkgo. He will not have use of his traits while he is in this form. Please play as if he is simply the other persona unless your character has some sort of mind-reading. Thanks! <3
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    #3
    [Okay, I had to go back and edit this just a smidge since I was half asleep when I wrote it last night :p]

    She wasn't sure how she even ended up going out that night. Earlier in the week her friends had all made her promise that she'd sneak in to this new bar with them. As usual when they made these sort of plans she had promised to go with them, with no real intention of leaving the house that night. In fact, the only reason she had left at all was because halfway through her cosplay makeup the texts had begun. "Ur coming out tnight rhgt??!" She had ignored that one. "RAE PLZ U PRMSD!" That one also went ignored. "Well put ur cozply pics on fb if u dnt cm". That one had her throwing off her carefully brushed wig and ripping off the carefully constructed armor she had been working on. Since she had already put some makeup on she did a quick winged liner and ran out the door.

    Leaving in the violet contacts.

    So now she was riding the subway on her way to some random bar she really didn't care to visit. At least this would prevent her precious photos from being leaked all over Facebook. She'd never hear the end of it from her mother if that happened. Of course why her mother needed Facebook in the first place was completely beyond her. It wasn't her fault that half the main female characters in anime's preferred short skirts and tied up white shirts. She was just trying to keep her outfits as close to the originals as possible. But her mom sees ONE photo and goes bananas accusing her of dressing up like a hooker.

    Of course her current outfit her mom probably wouldn't approve of either. For opposite reasons. Now she was dressed in ripped skinny jeans, a green tanktop and fitted black zipup hoodie. She could hear her mother's voice in her head now, "you look like a hoodlum!".

    Finally she saw her stop and hopped off, black boots hitting the pavement with a quiet tap. She hopped up the stairs quickly before making a turn down the correct street and stopping just in front of the bar. It looked decent enough, not like some of the places she'd been dragged to.

    She tried not to play with her dark red hair, she knew it made her look younger than the 22 years old that it said on her fake ID. The day she had turned 18 her best friend had presented her with it like it was the best thing ever. Just because she got drunk at conventions did not mean she wanted to start bar hopping with her school friends. But here she was. Actually, here she was and they were no where in sight.

    She sighed, straightened up and tried to walk as confidently as she could up to the door. The bouncer barely glanced at her ID and so she slipped in the door and tried to make it quickly into the darkest corner she could find. Of course in her hurry she managed to almost bump into a tall redheaded man, "sorry", she mumbled head down as she swerved around him. The petite girl did dare a glance back to look at him and her eyes widened just slightly. Of course she'd bump in to some hottie and look like a total clutz within the first 2 minutes of stepping through the door. What. An. Idiot. To quote her fave HP person.

    She snuggled into her booth, realizing too late that a heavily tattooed gentleman was sitting only a few feet away. She just couldn't catch a break! She flipped her hair over her eyes and tried to discreetly peer at him through it. Man, he was gorgeous too! What was with this place. Crap. Maybe it was a gay bar. That would explain the hot guys.

    The violet eyed girl looked up as a waitress swung by, apparently she got a free shot for being one of the first 10 in. "I don't usually do shots.. so whatever you recommend. As for the drink, jack and coke please." She was seriously killing her friends when.. and if.. they got here.

    OOC: I never post peoples so I hope this is okay! Raeanne as a person http://i63.tinypic.com/vfcwbc.jpg
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    #4
    Dadadadum!



    Hohotep. She was named after the Egyptian goddess of peace. Instead of being received as an empowering, strong name...well a name like that gives you a nickname of 'Ho'. Awesome. SUPER empowering.

    Eyeliner? Check. Red lips? Check. Tep decides after the lovely break up of her boyfriend and herself, well, what's the best way to soothe the raw hurt that linger just below the depths of her eyes?

    To go get fucked up.

    We've all been there. You're the great girl, the 'wifey' type. You wash his stupid clothes and make him stupid dinner. You let him even try that one thing in bed where you know you're just not sure but you love him so yea...it's love right? Wrong. After all the bullshit and all the smiles and all the going down on him...he still cheats.

    The fair hand with red nails hold a cigarette to equally blood red lips as she looks at the people slowly heading into that new bar up the street. There are a few guys, a few girls. One brow arches slightly as she wonders slightly about what happened to the last dump. Probably got shut down for some grimey reason. Tep wears her usual stuff, (she's not one to go out of her way to impress). Black straightened hair, a black tank under a flannel under a leather jacket, some skinny jeans and a good pair of sneakers. She knows when she in the kind of mood she's in can sometimes spill over to some confrontation with others.

    The last drawl of smoke has her feeling grounded as she crushes the butt under foot before crossing the street to the new bar. Its dark inside (but not the way slum places can be) the neon signs bring a bit of cheeriness to the faces that sit around the bar. Lashes fall and right as she sighs but not of boredom. A smile is touching the edges of her red lips as she slinks over to the bar to plop herself on a stool. "Well whiskey and a cheap beer." It is what she always have to start the night right. Another round of this would make her take off the jacket and flannel to finally relax and feel like she finally has a grip on life again. Eyes slide over to look to the others that had shown up already. Nails pluck another smoke from it's fragile packaging as she sees a man sitting a bit off. He is rugged and hard. She looks over his tattoos with a scrutinizing eye. They are decent word and well executed so he was not so idiot who covered himself in shit ink when he was seventeen nor were they prison tats...a good sign.

    When the whiskey and beer are brought over, Tep tosses the shot back with a mild grimace and chases with with a sip of beer. The flame of her light makes her eyes glow like the cherry of her cigarette as she lights up. The woman does not care to smoke but right now life was a fuck-all situation and she do what she felt she wanted to ease up the grip of hurt that was currently clutching at her heart.
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