"Ahh... bullocks, that is just an old myth for scarin' the children... I'd have a hard time believing such a thing could exist! It could have just been some kinda vicious blade or tool of some sort..."Originally Posted by thunderdome
Nick leers across the room at Tom...
Notices the leer
"There is a goddamn sword sticking out of him. Think that could have been it you putz?"
"Jesus Christ!" exclaimed Fred, "It's got to the point that a man can't even operate a bar without his employees getting killed and people making up stories about werewolfs anymore?". "It's obvious that this is the work of a human being. I mean what kind of werewolf uses a sword?".
Fred grabs a bottle of whiskey and pours himself a shot. Upon drinking it, a jolly smile returns to his face. "Well at least I don't have to pay them now."
Rick raises his head from the bar, coughing...
"Professor Plum with the candlestick in the library"
and promptly resumes snoring.
"The same kind of werewolf that tore every little peice of meat off of fockin Luke's body, with shite to show for it! No human is capable of that, I dont care how twisted they are. The werewolves from the stories, they werent all wolf boyos, they were half human, half wolf. You know? Fockin lycans for focks sake. Which means that they could be in our presence, right here, right now. So I suggest we fockin do somethin about it for focks sake instead of standin around with our hands up ar arses."
David's legs start to wobble and eyesight begins to blur from talking so much
"Fred pour me a fockin shot, I feel like im about to keel over."
He takes a seat
Fred pours a shot for David and himself. "Well at least we can be good and drunk whenever the blasted creature strikes again. Cheers good sir!"
"Wh-wh-what do you mean werewolves? Yo-yo-you don't really think them to be real do you?"
He shakingly walks to a table and sits down
"Th-th-this whole situation has my st-st-stuttering problem coming back... I-i-it hasn't happened since I was a wee one. Co-co-could ya pour me a shot as well? M-m-my nerves are shot."
Fred pours Ben a double-shot and scratches his head. Ben takes it in stride and Fred refills the glass, this time pouring one for himself as well.
"I'm sure it can't really be werewolfs Ben, they're just an old wive's tale. We'll just have to watch our backs and make sure that we're fightin' drunk in case anything happens."
Fred grabs a bottle of scotch and fills three glasses. "Ben, David, have another drink. Just remember, fightin' drunk!".
"Broken routine, werewolves, uneven numbers, no opium, mix me something up too Fred. Make it something nice and obliterating. If I'm going to make it to the end of the day without offing myself I'm going to need to be nice, calm, and carefree. You're no Tim, and you're sure as hell no Luke, but I would imagine you still know a little something about making problems go away."
"I think, I think I want to go home and see my wife."
Aye...a good idea....but after this next drink...
Fred grabs an old dusty bottle from underneath the bar and starts filling glasses. "This is my special reserve friends. if you need to get hammered, this will do the trick."
"As luck would have it, I've also got a little bit of opium left James."
Fred pulls a small box from under the bar and puts the bottle back. He opens it to reveal a small pipe and a moderate sized chunk of sticky opium.
James thanks Fred and downs his drink. He then lights up the pipe and smokes for a moment. He exhales and smiles.
"Alright fellows, let's get down to brass tax. Who's behind all this, eh? Just go ahead and come forward. We won't retaliate, we swear."
Hugh had just about regained his composure and standing propped up against the bar his ears pricked up at this comment. The pub had fallen silent, Hugh' s eyes flicked around the room taking in each face, in his pocket his hand gripped a short blade. He waited... the first person to begin a confession would find it at their throat..
"Why so silent Rick?"
"You seem awful keen to disprove this Nick
...why would that be I wonder."
This is a precious moment, thought Richard as he surveyed the scene. Two people have died, we are locked in from the outside and now everyone wantsto kill one another.
'I don't think we should be drinking and smoking ourselves into a stupor at this early hour, if there is a murderer about we should keep our wits about us. And if accusations are going to be flung they should not be tainted by drunken prejudice.'
I refuse to do anything until you have all sobered up.
"C'mon Hugh! You don't seriously believe those old myth's do ya? Such foolishness."
"Haven't you ever heard of leaving a drunk man where he lie? I told you all, it was Colonel Mustard with the Revolver in the Ballroom."
"Foolishness, my friend, would be to dismiss the idea before it is disproved. I can assure you, I have no intention of doing that".
"I'm with Richard on this one. No need for more bloodshed until we can be rational. I mean, personally I think Ben is the most suspect, but I'm no proponent of violence. Violence creates antisymmetry you know."
"Well I'm not one to point fingers, because it's bad for business, but Neil seems to be the obvious suspect. He's the only one of you that I think would be bright enough to pull something like this off and not get caught, and he's been fairly quiet since people started getting killed around here."
Fred pours himself another glass of scotch.
"Also, I'm sober as a fall chicken Richard."
"DRONK?! Rick i've seenn *hic* many pints dronk in de day, but nevar in me life ha *hic* have I seen an ol matey of mine get dronk after *hic* one pint and a batch of rum cakes. Not in this town, no...*hic*"
Me? But I couldn't have done it, it's not in my nature. What about you James, you seem keen on putting me in the spotlight, surely you wouldn't be trying to frame an innocent man!
"I mean no offense good sir, you just seemed conspicuously quiet. I don't intend to frame anyone. Injustice leads to antisymmetry, don't you know."
"I like and trust every single one of ya'..... except for Neil. He's new around here, we ain't had no trouble in this town to amount to much as long as I can remember, then all of the sudden people start dying!? We'd be out of our minds not to consider him the prime suspect!"
On ring Hughs sentiment, Neil stared across from where was sitting catching hughs eye. Of all this frightfull banter, he has unleashed the one true sentiment of the situation, there was no way of knowing who, or rather what, had committed this crime. Neil could see it coming, incident leeds to fear, fear leeds to anger, anger in turn results in witch hunts. He needed to make an attempt to settle the situation, standing up and subtley wondering over to hugh, he whispered to him "the night is still yet young, this killer is unlikely to have had its fill, and this assembley of individuals will soon enact their own form of justice on whoever they deem responsible. tread with care old boy". He didnt know why he felt obliged to warn only one of the inevitability of the situation, but he had seen this mob mindset before, and he refused to be the single survivor...again.
Steffan scratches his head.
"Huh? What's going on? Neil's the murderer?"
Neil stands up, shaking, apparently with fright. "Gentlemen, gentlemen; I've seen this all before. We can't allow ourselves to get caught up in this mob panic, we'll end up massacring each other. What we've got to do to work out what's going on, even find the 'werewolves' you imagine is very simple. We've got to," he spluttered; coughed, "got to..." he threw up, casting blood upon the already filthy floor, fell, and fitted. He kicked the table he was sat at, and his glass of whiskey fell and shattered ominously on his head. What had happened was very clear. He'd been poisoned.
"Good riddance" muttered Fred.
this is the people what are in this game like
Night time children. Werewolves: come out, come out, wherever you are
Last edited by Think; 11-23-2008 at 11:57 PM.
"Well that was convenient."
"Ay jesus christo fred! I hope it wasn't the whole bottle ya poured that poison into! Ya could have killed us all! Not to mention wastin the alchohol!"
*David sits down, not realizing what he's doing and takes a sip of the same bottle, luckily for him it was just Neil's cup that was poisoned*
"Well at least we got that fockin monster. But as the story goes, there's never only one of em. Im going home to be with me family and to load me fockin six shooter."
"Well just because I didn't mind him being the one to go doesn't mean that I poisoned the drink. You know just as well as I do that I would never waste good alcohol. Besides, why would I sabotage my own business like this? Even though I could have done without ever seeing Neil again, it's not exactly in my best interests to kill off a regular customer and both of my bartenders."
Fred steps behind the bar and pours himself a glass of scotch. He drifts off for a second, realizing that he looks very suspicious now. Knowing that he has to take the focus off of himself, he looks over at David.
"You know, you were pretty quick to point a finger at me for this ordeal, and if I recall you and Neil didn't exactly get along all the time either. How do we know that you weren't the one that poisoned him?"
Night and ethereal still descended once more upon the cursed pub. Pacing and watch duties slipping away, nodding; waking; nodding again, lower, lower, stiller, stiller. Silence.
The creak of a stair. Silence.
When David woke up, he was confronted by the visage of Tom, naked, before him. A knife had been stabbed through the bottom of Tom's friendly jaw and out of the top of his head, plunged so hard that it stuck to the rooftop, leaving him dangling there. His torso was a mess of fleshy claw marks and bone, and his legs were mockingly absent; devoured, perhaps.
"Dear God!" cried David "There is truly a Lycan among us"
DAYTIME
this is the people what are in this game like
Last edited by Think; 11-27-2008 at 07:28 PM.
I'm pretty sure spending more that a 24 hours in a pub is unhealthy, Richard thought to himself as he allowed himself a small breakfast swig from his hip flask.
'Damn, empty' He exclaimed.
And I sure as hell don't trust any of the liquor in this place, he thought, looking down at the corpse of Neil.
Sitting up a little from his usual kipping spot on the long bench that ran parallel to the bar he noticed David staring down at something the other side of the pumps, obscured from his sight.
'Any news on getting us out of here Dave?'
Hugh surveyed the grim scene of gore and destruction in the pub, which had not so long ago been a place of warmth and comfort. The villagers sat in uneasy silences, friendly chatter had died along with Tom. Standing up he coughed slightly then raised his voice.
"Evidently Niel's death did not prevent this twisted spree of murders. Whether that is because he was innocent or merely that he had an accomplice is impossible to say. However it seems clear to me that we cannot continue to attempt to remove this threat on a whim, we must have some evidence. I am sure one of you must feel you have more insight into the matter than others, if that be the case then do not hesitate to let us know."
He sat again shaking slightly, had his words helped? Or would the killings continue to be as dangerous at day as they were at night..?
"Damn... poor Tom! My wife sure loved his meat, she just couldn't get enough of it. Too bad I don't have my tools with me, I would get us out of here one way or another."
*looking around*
"Well, were locked in, so we know it was someone in here that is doing this, part animal or not...why don't ya be a man and stand up to your crime!"
"Ay I wish I did mate, but im just as helpless as anyone of you. But as long as we can understand our situation, I think we can get out of this. Nobody knows who the werewolf is...aye? That means none of us can be trusted, be it you or I matey. What we need is a little solidarity. Im gonna find out who this fock is, the fock that got old tom lobo's fockin blood on me!"
"I, for one, will not be sleeping this evening. I'm not gonna be the next to die," Rick says soberly.
"That's the best idea any of us has had, Rick. If we all stay awake until we can get out we'll at least know who the culprit is."
Fred pours another glass of scotch and turns it up, then proceeds to sit down at a small corner table. Within minutes, he is asleep.
"Some people sleep rather too easily considering what's happened...and still happening.."
Hugh glanced down at the man, sleeping peacefully
"I say we put an end to Fred before he can argue his case..."
Posting Permissions
Reply With Quote
Bookmarks