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 Post Posted: Fri Apr 01, 2011 6:03 pm 
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Location: Currently on expedition.
It's cold and dark outside, and drizzling rain. Down the stairs leading to the basement is a heavy door, with the sign "Balthazar's" dimly glowing. The door opens up into a prohibition era speakeasy. The lights are dim, and soft Jazz plays in the background. In the best lit spot stands the bar, a row of stools in front of it, and Balthazar behind it, polishing a glass.


The Bar and Speakeasy is a place where you can just hang out and talk about whatever you want, as whoever you want. So go ahead, have fun and feel free to bemoan your fate, celebrate your triumphs, and bug the bartender for another drink.

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 Post Posted: Fri Apr 01, 2011 10:26 pm 
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John strolls in and bellies up to the bar. "One Bud bottle please! And if it aint to much trouble could I get a bowl of peanuts? Having a tough day."

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 Post Posted: Fri Apr 01, 2011 11:56 pm 
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Location: Somewhere doing something.
The doors burst open as someone closely resembling a cross between Edward Elric and Labyrinth Bowie cries, "The party has arrived and the campaign can begin!" This is none other than Captain Scott Peter Bombadil Nikolai Farnsworth Tiberious Morpheus Goblinking, also known as Cap'n Scott!

Behind him is a rather handsome... elf! Yeah, that's what the pointy ears mean, right? Yeah. The infamously dashing and dashingly infamous Anthony 'Dead Man' Wilson!

Behind him is a shifty looking gentleman wearing a fedora and sport coat. His canines seem rather large because... well, they're protruding from his mouth! A long scar crosses his face, which would intimidate you if you weren't concentrating on the large form of an ax protruding from his coat. This has to be the insidious mobster they call Stan the Wolf!

Behind him is a shaved... yes, another elf. This one is wearing monk robes and appears to be blind seeing as he keeps reaching out to feel his surroundings. The holiest of holies, I give you Brother Guai!

"C'mon!" urges the Captain, finding a large booth. "Someone help Guai to the table I don't think OH STARS AND S***."

From the corner of the speakeasy, two characters of ill standing sit. One looks old and surly, with an eye-patch and a full, black beard. He lights a cigar with his finger, which produces a flame for some odd reason. This can only be Sergeant Red, the disgraced super-soldier.

His drinking buddy looks relatively young and has a douchy quality about him. He has a large sniper rifle in the seat next to him, and he wears a pin stripe suit that looks straight from the fifties. He keeps eying the kitchen and backdoor and vents all the other places he knows he shouldn't go. But he wants to go. He really does. This is Tim Wilshire, of the first something battalion of the I-Don't-Care army.

"They're looking over here," Anthony says through clenched teeth to the Captain.

"I know. Just... just don't pay them any mind."

"Um... looks like we dun have a choice," Stan replies as the two walk over to their booth.

"Why, isn't this just grand," remarks Red with a slurred, Irish tongue, "The favored children are out havin' a drink! A few laughs maybe? 'Hey, ya see those two poor bastards? Aren't we just fortunate to be like soooo much!'"

"Well," retorts Guai, "You were being a major dick. In the military, no less. And, might I point out, you're just really racist!"

"And you're just a charming, handsome fellow who wouldn't leave well enough alone," Anthony points out to Tim, "also, you just flat out killed people! Shame shame shame!" A malicious grin crosses his face.

Meanwhile, two translucent figures appear at the bar. One is a young, strapping Japanese royal named Daichi Kichirou. The other looks like a rather poor Eastern European girl named Megan.

"What's going on over there?" asks Daichi's ghost.

"Oh, some pissing contest between some of Mr. Cold's other characters," Megan says. She lifts a ghostly glass to Daichi. "Here's to Werewolves and other related games! May they always put us out of our misery in a democratically and timely manner." Daich raises his glass and drinks.

Cap'n Scott gets an elated look on his face when he realizes that there is an opportunity for excitement. He jumps up on the table, kicks Red square in the jaw and yells, "BAR FIGHT!"

Red recoils from the blow, blood dripping from his mouth. He snaps his jaw back into place, healing at an abnormal speed. He faces the party and lights his fists on fire.

Tim is shocked by the sudden action and quickly draws his 9mm.

The good Captain jumps down from the table, unsheathing his rapier.

Anthony stands up, two knives dexterously flipped into his hands.

Stan gives a grunt as he wields his wood ax.

Guai continues to sit. When the camera man gives an "ahem", Guai merely says "What? I'm a healer! Don't need to do a lot but heal, am I right?"

This clearly isn't gonna end well for anyone.

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 Post Posted: Sat Apr 02, 2011 12:23 am 
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Meanwhile, over on the bar, a squirrel with a bandolier of knives across his chest and a pair of tiny pistols in his belt is steadily munching through his fourth bowl of walnuts. "It's all the fault of the mice." he claims, checking that his tinfoil hat is in place. "Them and their mind control ray."

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 Post Posted: Sat Apr 02, 2011 3:09 am 
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Balthazar slides over a bottle of bud, a bowl of peanuts, and a bottle opener to John. No twist offs here.

He then proceeds to produce a very large shotgun from under the bar and waves it in the rowdies direction.

"Pipe down rubbies! People are trying to drink, you should be doing the same!"

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 Post Posted: Sat Apr 02, 2011 3:17 am 
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Location: Yeah....So????
John sees the rowdy crowd come in and deciding generosity is the smarter form of valor says "Set em up on my tab." Producing a bag that clinks as he passes it to Balthazar. "That should cover everyone for awhile." Munching on peanuts with his suspiciously long and sharp teeth John waits to see what else will unfold. Whatever it will be is bound to be less hectic and disturbing than the day he has already been having.

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 Post Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 5:45 am 
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After eyeing the rowdies for a minute, Bal replaces the shotgun behind the bar, and accepts the bag.

"Alright, you heard the man, what's your poison?"

He then turns to the ghostly figures.

"So how 'bout those Dresden Files?"

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 Post Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 3:19 pm 
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"I enjoy 'em," Daichi proclaims.

Megan comes in with a, "Meh, stuck on Summer Knight. Storm Front was great, but Fool Moon and Grave Peril just reminded me of work."

While everyone looks at the bartender, Scott quickly decapitates Red. Red's body disintegrates into a mound of coins.

"Yes," says the Captain in a loud, mock-innocent tone, "Pipe down good sir who was here alone this entire time!" Tim, seeing the pile of coins where is drinking buddy once was, swiftly runs out the door.

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 Post Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 3:42 pm 
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Location: Wishing I was not in Kansas anymore
An ethereally handsome young man broods at the end of the bar, leaning on a drunken fist. His hair is black as shadows, his eyes like golden pools. His pale skin glitters when it catches the light.

"I'll hava, a nuther one," he slurs, carefully tapping a tumbler coated with suspiciously red liquid. He points at the squirrel.

"I dunno WHAT you -- you're talking about," he says, waving a finger. "It's the damn WOLVES that, that ruin ev'rythin'."

He picks up the tumbler and gulps down the rest of the contents.

"Stupid shirtless bastards," he mutters, licking red from his pillowy lips.

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 Post Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 7:08 pm 
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"That's what the mice want you to think." whispers the squirrel, conspiratorially. "They're really behind it all. You don't think Disneyland is just a coincidence, do you?"

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 Post Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 8:04 pm 
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"It's the aliens that are after me. Blasted little green men. I hates em all." John says to anyone who might be listening. "I agree with that guy tho....The wolves are no good...no good at all."

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 Post Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 8:25 pm 
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The young man squints at the squirrel.

"Heeey, yeaaaahhh," he says. "But -- but if we take out the wolves, maybe THEN we can get to the mice!"

He listens to John, then laughs a little too loudly.

"I like your style!" he says, banging a fist on the bar. "You n' me, n', n' THIS guy --" he thumbs at the squirrel. "We've got it RIGHT, right? Down with the wolves!"

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 Post Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 8:46 pm 
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"Another Bud Please!" John yells to the bartender who is starting to get very busy indeed. "First we get rid of the wolves...then the mice...then the aliens. You betcha."

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 Post Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 10:01 pm 
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"No no no no no!" objects the squirrel."Don't you see? The mice are using you. Wolves eat mice. They're just trying to make you take out their enemies for them, that's what. S'gotta be the mice first, that's the important one. Then we can take out wolves and aliens after."

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 Post Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 10:25 pm 
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"Well -- well -- mices are SMALL --" the young man inches his fingers together and squints at them. "Sooooo, I guess we can kill em all first. But THEN!" he said, his cry echoing over the noisy bar. "THEN I take out ANY of those stupid shapeshifters that come my way! With their -- their ripply abs an' an' their -- their ladies that can't ever leave 'em oh GOD they can't EVER leave 'em!"

The young man sniffles, blood red tears dripping down his cheeks. He grabs a cocktail napkin and smears them around his shiny, handsome face.

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