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BAR FIGHT: HARDER

BEGIN ANEW LIKE A WONDERFUL BUTTERFLY RIPE FOR SLAUGHTER.

BAR FIGHT: HARDER

ANGRY, HEAVILY BEARDED MAN IS SEATED AT THE BAR. BROWS ARE FURLED, EYES RED FOR NO APPARENT REASON. EVERYONE ELSE SEEMS PERFECTLY CALM WHILE THIS ONE MAN IS ABOUT READY TO EXPLODE. BOTTLE OF [NONSPECIFIC BRAND ALCOHOL] IS BEING HELD VERY TIGHTLY IN HIS RIGHT HAND. AUDIBLE GRUNTS ESCAPE THROUGH HIS TEETH.

ANIMATE SKELETON WEARING ORNATE JEWELRY AND CRIMSON ROBE STRUTS BY HIM AND TURNS TO THE BARTENDER, A BALD DUDE IN A NICE BLUE VEST. "EHHHHHH." SKELETON SAYS IN A RIDICULOUSLY COCKNEY ACCENT, SOMEHOW WITHOUT THE NEED OF VOCAL CHORDS AND OTHER ORGANIC SYSTEMS NECESSARY IN THE ACT OF SPEAKING, "WOULD YEH FACILITATE ME WITH A DEPLORABLE BEVERAGE, KIND SEH?"

"SURE." BALD-TENDER REPLIES, HANDING SKELETON A BEER. SKELETON NODS AND WRAPS HIS FREE HAND AROUND THE ANGRY BEARDED MAN, SAYING ALOUD, "QUALITY LIQUEH BE OCCUPATIN' AH GUZZAHDS TONOIGHT, EH RICHARD?"

NO.

NO MORE OF THIS.

BEARDED MAN'S GRIP TIGHTENS. BOTTLE SHATTERS, GLASS SHARDS PIERCE SKIN OF HIS HAND. HE LETS OUT A BLOOD-CURDLING YELL, PICKS UP HIS STOOL, AND SLAMS IT UPSIDE THE SKELETON'S HEAD, WHO FALLS TO THE FLOOR, RELATIVELY UNHARMED AND INTACT. BEARDED MAN CLIMBS UP ON TOP OF THE BAR, RIPS OFF HIS FLANNEL SHIRT, AND SCREAMS.

"BAAAAAAAAAAR FIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!"

MOMENTARY SILENCE.

EVERYONE TURNS TO THE NEAREST LIVING THING AND SCREAMS IN THEIR FACE.

IT BEGINS.

BAR FIGHT: HARDER

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^{SPIRITUAL SUCCESSOR TO @SepticGentleman'S THREAD, BAR FIGHT}

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~ WELCOME TO BAR FIGHT, THE BAR WHERE YOU FIGHT. ~

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HERE ARE THE RULES FOR BAR FIGHTING.

RULE 1 - CAPS ONLY, OTHERWISE NO ONE CAN HEAR YOU. THIS INCLUDES THE OOC.

RULE 2 - EVERYONE MUST FIGHT.

RULE 3 - CHARACTER TALKING IS NOT ALLOWED TO EXCEED CHARACTER FIGHTING.

RULE 4 - THIS BAR EXISTS IN A MULTI-UNIVERSAL INTERSECTION NOT BOUND BY THE CONVENTIONAL LAWS OF REALITY. THIS MEANS ITS PATRONS ARE COMPRISED OF BOTH HUMANS AND NOT-HUMANS, SO GO CRAZY WITH YOUR CHARACTERS. HAVE AS MANY AS YOU WANT.

RULE 5 - SEVERE AND FATAL INJURIES MAY BE FREELY INFLICTED UPON ONE ANOTHER. IF YOU DON'T LIKE SOMETHING THAT HAPPENS TO YOUR CHARACTER, JUST HAVE THEM WALK IT OFF. MAMA AIN'T RAISE NO BITCH.

RULE 6 - TEAM UPS ARE FUN AND ENCOURAGED. BEAT MEAT ALONE OR IN GROUPS.

RULE 7 - COME IN AND FIGHT, AND LEAVE LIKE A LIL BITCH AS YOU PLEASE. DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE BUSY WITH SCHOOL OR WORK OR WHATEVER. I DON'T GIVE A GOOD GOD DAMN ABOUT YOUR LIFE OUTSIDE OF THIS FUCKING BAR.

RULE 8 - THERE IS NO CHARACTER SHEET. DON'T ASK ME FOR ONE.

RULE 9 - POST LENGTH IS INCONSEQUENTIAL AS LONG AS THERE'S FIGHTING BEING DONE.

RULE 10 - DONT VOTE. EAT TRASH. DO DRUGS. GET CASH. EAT ASS. DIE FAST. THE FUCKING MOTTO. BORN TO DIE. WORLD IS A FUCK.

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IM BAD AT GMING AND CANNOT BE FUCKED TO COME UP WITH PLOT LINES. IF YOU'RE NOT INTO IT, MOVE ALONG AND FIND SOMETHING ELSE THAT TICKLES YOUR PICKLE. OTHERWISE, COME ON IN AND THROW A PUNCH OR TWO.

IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS, JUST YELL THEM HERE.

Santa Celia: Coast to Coast

Operation: Gogurt is a go

Santa Celia: Coast to Coast

Where I'm from they wear nothing, but only inside out.

Santa Celia: Coast to Coast

I also offer myself as tribute. I’m sure I’ll get better.

Santa Celia: Coast to Coast

Archie

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^{9:07 pm}
How about a late supper? Pick me up from work?

Archie awoke very suddenly. The culprit was a violent buzz. It was an off day, so there's no way it was work, and it's not like his ex would call him after he had called her. So that left one person that he'd be likely to hear from...

His heart jumps into his throat as he texts back a quick response. He knows she works at Freckles because, all things considered, the only times he'd seen her not wearing the uniform was when she wasn't wearing anything at all. His mouth very suddenly goes dry at the thought, but he forces the thoughts away. This was not the time or the place for that. He sends his message, and leaves his bedroom to ready himself to pick her up.

There's something that's nice about texting, he thinks as he throws on a pair of jeans, because he doesn't have to look her in the eye. He doesn't have to see her hands and frown at the fact that they aren't engulfed in his; doesn't have to worry about whether or not he looks alright. He feels like texting might be a cop out for both of them, some sort of refusal to get too close too fast again, or maybe it's just nerves. Maybe they're too scared that it'll be too easy to fall into familiar routines, where conversations melt into kisses and hugs become hour long naps. For a moment Archie stops his line of thought to consider something else though. Perhaps some things should remain buried, and it could take a while before they even consider going grave-digging. Should he call it off and sleep on it?

No, he thinks. He's come this far.

Archie drove to Freckles and pulled around back in his old gray 2011 Toyota Corolla. It was nothing special, but a car was a car and as the guy who he bought it from said 'It beats walkin'.' There was only one issue though- Natalie wasn't there. Just some other Freckles employee that was pacing back and fourth. She was probably waiting for her own ride, he mused. He waited for a moment and considered sending Natalie a text, but didn't want to come off as too clingy. Opting instead to ask her co-worker. He rolled down the window and leaded his head out of the car.

"Excuse me, Miss? Have you seen Natalie anywhere? She asked me to pick her up from work."

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@Silver Carrot, @Lord Wraith