by The Anarcho-Syndicalist Commune » Sun Oct 13, 2019 4:12 pm
by Endem » Sun Oct 13, 2019 5:02 pm
by Talchyon » Sun Oct 13, 2019 7:01 pm
Louisianan wrote:Talchyon has great comedic writing, that is true.
by Union Princes » Sun Oct 13, 2019 9:06 pm
by Parcia » Mon Oct 14, 2019 1:05 am
by Ormata » Mon Oct 14, 2019 2:37 am
by Parcia » Mon Oct 14, 2019 3:01 am
by Talchyon » Mon Oct 14, 2019 10:31 am
Union Princes wrote:Szarlota Raczkowska
Ribe General Store
“Here we are, boys!” a tall, lanky, and leather-wearing young adult announced as stepped out of his homemade hot-rod. The vehicle was plastered with flame design, totenkopfs, and chrome. Heavy metal music was turned up to obnoxious levels as it blasted through the open doors. How he didn’t suffer from hearing damage was a mystery. Regardless, three more doors opened and closed revealing three more compatriots with similar punk-ish clothing. The chains on their necks and belts clinked under the sun while they walked towards the Ribe General Store. Behind them, another person was trailing them on a bicycle.
The gang leader whipped his head around to see a familiar mask following him. The makeup shows it all.
“How long were you following us?” he grunted.
“Long enough.” the person replied as she locked her bike at the bike rack near the wall.
“Szar, you know you didn’t have to pedal this way you know.” One of the Outsiders grinned, eyeing Szar’s body.
“I know.” the girl replied.
While the boys were decked out like edgelords, Szarlota was wearing her jester costume. Almost comical if it wasn’t so scandalous in this small town. Her long-sleeves shirt only covered her breasts and ended right there leaving her midriff was completely exposed at a full 360 degrees. Her jester pants was tight it hugged her thighs and legs. Her curves left nothing to the imagination because of the black and red colors. Her mask was the only thing that could be taken seriously.
“Whatever,” the leader rolled his eyes as he grabbed the door open in one mighty swing. A loud ringing from the bell notified the cashier of his new guests. “Let’s just get what we came here for.”
One by one, the Outsiders all funneled in and immediately went searching for the shelves. The neatly organized shelves were quickly turned upside down as the boys scoured the place looking for the items they seek. Szarlota made her way to cashier desk and leaned against it.
Poor Kid. Szarlota thought as she turned to face the attendant. Her mask doing no favors to calm his nerves.
“Hey…” she greeted while the rest of the Outsiders were making a nightmare of a mess. “Have I seen you before? In highschool?”
Louisianan wrote:Talchyon has great comedic writing, that is true.
by Miekzhemy » Mon Oct 14, 2019 3:32 pm
by Union Princes » Mon Oct 14, 2019 6:53 pm
by The Japanese Americans » Mon Oct 14, 2019 8:26 pm
by The Anarcho-Syndicalist Commune » Tue Oct 15, 2019 6:26 pm
by The Japanese Americans » Tue Oct 15, 2019 7:48 pm
The Anarcho-Syndicalist Commune wrote:Nate
Pulling his car up to the general store, Nate was a little suprised to see one of the town's rare police cruisers in front of it. Though taxes from Vaycay's enabled Ribe to have 3 or 4 dedicated officers at any given point, most law enforcement was handled by the county sheriff, as most of the time crime in Ribe involved a junkie who killed someone for their crack and then ran to hide in the woods nearby. Parking the truck, Nate slid out of it, shutting the door behind him. Seeing a Vaycay kid who occaisonally bought weed off the Outsiders because they were too young to buy from an actual dispenser crouching by the police car, Nate offered a curt nod before entering the store.
by Ormata » Tue Oct 15, 2019 7:51 pm
Getting up shakily he reached for his staff and wrenched it free of the stump, hitting it twice and attempting to call out who ever was seemingly messing with him.
by Sammuramat » Tue Oct 15, 2019 8:04 pm
by Talchyon » Tue Oct 15, 2019 8:37 pm
The Anarcho-Syndicalist Commune wrote:Nate
Placing the engine cover back on to the device, Nate guided the boat away from the dock, and back to it's mooring. Tying the vessel on, Nate began his row back to the dock. Nate struck a lean muscular figure, mostly developed from heavy lifiting at the garage, and the amount of rowing he subjected himself to in the summer. While other kids who wanted to stay in shape might jog or bike around town, Nate rowed. There was something peaceful about a morning row inside the guarded straights that surrounded Ribe.
Shrugging his shoulders as he tied his rowboat to the dock, Nate grabbed his jacket and hoodie from where he had hung it on a railing, and put it back on. The jacket had been one of the few things he had gotten from his father. A simple jean jacket with the garage's old name embroidered on the back of it, Nate had taken the arms off of it to make it all weather, and often wore it over a simple hoodie. Climbing up the dock, he took a moment in the parking lot to sort out his tools and plce them in the bed of his truck, an older ford that Nate had fixed up himself. It was one of the few cars that Nate had ever restored that wasn't designed for racing and the like, and yet it was also what he considered to be his finest work. The familiar grumble of it's roulette game of an engine came from under the hood, before the car rolled over. Smiling as he pulled out of the lot, Nate decided he could go for a snack before heading to the scrapyard to work on his latest creation.
Pulling his car up to the general store, Nate was a little suprised to see one of the town's rare police cruisers in front of it. Though taxes from Vaycay's enabled Ribe to have 3 or 4 dedicated officers at any given point, most law enforcement was handled by the county sheriff, as most of the time crime in Ribe involved a junkie who killed someone for their crack and then ran to hide in the woods nearby. Parking the truck, Nate slid out of it, shutting the door behind him. Seeing a Vaycay kid who occaisonally bought weed off the Outsiders because they were too young to buy from an actual dispenser crouching by the police car, Nate offered a curt nod before entering the store.
Inside he found three of the dipshits who hung out at the scrapyard and were too young to get that graffiti and drugs did not a hardened criminal make. Unfortunately he also recognized the officer dealing with them. Chief Dean as most knew him was the captain of the small police force in town, a hard man who acted more like a dissapointed father to those he arrested than like a police officer. He was highly disdainful towards the outsiders and many a party was broken up by him after he personally filed the noise complaint. More important, Dean Evans was the sole surviving blood relative Nate had on his dad's side. Dean had never married, and he had had no children, leaving it on Nate to continue the family line, a responsibility that Nate hated having and Dean hated him for "squandering with those shitheads in the Scrapyard." His uncle had resented him ever since he had hit his tweens, and though he often supported Nate and his mom out of loyalty to his little brother, Dean had no qualms about showing his dissapointment in his nephew.
"I'm sure you can runt. Let's see, Lerman, Dennis, and Shaw. I'm sure your parents would be real proud of you spending your summer locked up in the state pen for petty crimes. Couldn't you be doing something useful with your lives, like helping on your father's boats, or working at the yacht club? Hell, I'm sure all three of you are still young enough to take a few sailing lessons." The Chief's voice rumbled as he removed a small pad from his belt and began to take notes. Nate grabbed the snacks he was looking for and brought them to the register. At first, he was simply going to wait for his uncle to be finished before he let out a small sigh. He was going to regret this.
"Uncle wait." The Chief looked up from his pad at Nate before shaking his head.
"Nathan, please don't get involved here."
Nate likewise shook his head and said "You seriously can't be arresting these guys for what I assume is minor shit. I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding. Right fellas?"
The three outsiders shook their heads like a pack of nervous dogs. The Chief shook his head again and said "If I catch any one of you, and that includes you nephew, up to anything in the next few weeks, no mercy. And Nathan, I'm having a long chat with your mom about this one." With nay a word more, the Chief left the gas station.
Making sure his uncle had driven off, Nate slapped the leader of the three across the face and said "Get the hell out of here and out of my sight. Go do a tune up or some shit, I don't care." Sliding the materials away from the center of the counter, Nate put his snacks in the middle and said to Freddy "How much is this going to run me?"
Louisianan wrote:Talchyon has great comedic writing, that is true.
by Dyelli Beybi » Wed Oct 16, 2019 6:19 am
by Parcia » Wed Oct 16, 2019 8:16 am
by Endem » Wed Oct 16, 2019 8:21 am
by Union Princes » Wed Oct 16, 2019 1:00 pm
by Dyelli Beybi » Wed Oct 16, 2019 1:16 pm
Parcia wrote:Yang
Ribe woods.
*snip*
Of course, that was until he came skidding to a stop, seeing the laid out form of a girl on the ground in front of him. Pausing, approached carefully to her side and, rather unceremoniously, poked her shoulder with his staff.
by The Japanese Americans » Wed Oct 16, 2019 3:03 pm
Union Princes wrote:Szarlota Raczkowska
-snip-
Not to be one to stare so rudely, Szarlota turned around and exited the store. The bells chiming in distorted rhythm with her movements. She didn’t feel like buying anything in the store today and so the Pole left without a word to the cashier or the customers. Szarlota went around the corner to get her bike. She knelt down in order to fiddle with her bike lock in order to detach it from the bike rake.
by Ormata » Wed Oct 16, 2019 3:09 pm
What finally caused him to move was the sudden thump of something bigger hitting the ground and the sudden silence that fallowed. He started forward in to a jog, staff in hand, towards the source of the noise wagering it to be something related to the spicy assault on his senses. He did mentally pause and think that perhaps they were already gone, that maybe the faint noises he picked up were the sounds of some small deer rushing though the brush.
If it was a deer, and his attacker was gone, then he would simply shrug and get started on scrubbing the oily red irritant from his clothes and body. If not, and he had the fortune of coming upon the unlucky soul, chances are they would be on the receiving end of his staff.
Of course, that was until he came skidding to a stop, seeing the laid out form of a girl on the ground in front of him. Pausing, approached carefully to her side and, rather unceremoniously, poked her shoulder with his staff.
"Hey!" she yelled, keeping her distance from the scruffy reprobate, "Get the hell away from her!"
by Parcia » Wed Oct 16, 2019 3:51 pm
by Serah » Wed Oct 16, 2019 4:05 pm
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