Re: Mini-Grand 5111 [Round 2: Greenport, Massachusetts]
11-17-2011, 01:44 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Pharmacy.
Brontes the innkeeper stood in his place, a look of perpetual boredom painted on his face.
Another sleepy day in Greenport. Another bloody sleepy day.
Not that he had any reason to complain about. Greenport was a rather nice town, despite the otherworldly disadvantages. Clean, good food, nice neighbors (well, most of them. let’s not talk about the cults, shall we). It was just that this day was so, well, nothing. Nada. Zilch. Ennui dressed up in a pretty bow of monotony. Ugh, so boring.
While Brontes was entertaining his thoughts, a man stumbled forward and slammed an empty beer mug on the table. Oh lord, it was the local vagrant. Although Brontes liked customers, this man was a public nuisance. Judging from his gaping grin and bloodshot eyes, it was pretty obvious that he was plastered.
<font color="navy">"Hut me upb," slurred his customer. Then, he cackled, as though what he said absolutely freaking hilarious.
Brontes sighed, rubbing his temples. He was an innkeeper, not a bartender! It’s almost like the booze rotted away the concept of difference from this man. Suddenly, a large CRUNCH jolted them from any potential rhetoric they had to pass around.</font>
It was not hard to figure out where the source of the noise was thanks to the falling splinters. Of course, Brontes and the drunk did not expect a head up in the ceiling. There it was. A red bird mask stuck halfway through. If those painted eyes could express an emotion, it would be extreme annoyance. Brontes was not so sure how the mask felt, but the contempt oozing from that intruder made that a rather good guess.
More and more wood splinters rained down and with a heavy slam, the triangle, along with the rest of the body went on the floor, splattering red everywhere. Although the macabre scene stifled a few gasps from the few guests here, the stranger seemed to be fine as she managed to pick herself up and walk to the counter.
Today (at least that felt to her) has been a long, horrible, turbulent day of suck for her. She was minding her own business and suddenly she lost track of her own prey. Stupid luck, or more like. Stupid dirigible. Metal. Thing. Eh, whatever. Both can take the blame.
Ugh, she was so tired. Well, at least this place was an inn, or looked like an inn at least. Maybe she could rent a room and sleep it off. Kat reached into her pocket and scattered some pocket change onto the table.
<font color="Blue">
“Excuse me, miss. One thing to note.” The innkeeper reminded her. "We do not take this sort of change around these parts." He held up one of her coins to show.
Kay stood up and violently grabbed the poor Bronte’s collar towards her. "Listen." She breathed, haphazardly jabbing her pointy end of the mask near the poor innkeeper’s face. "I died. My car exploded. My quarry had escaped. I am sore all over the place and my head is throbbing. NOW WOULD YOU GIVE ME A GODDAMN BED." Sobbing uncontrollably, the duelist histrionically shook at the innkeeper.
Another noise interrupted the two from any arguing. It was a peculiar noise: a thud, then another thud and another –heavy, ponderous sounds against the ceiling. The drumming of the roof encouraged everyone, including the innkeeper and the duelist, in the inn to investigate.
</font>
Oh lord, bodies! Many of them! Charred corpses splayed spread-eagle on the dirt ground. Any effigy of their tortured visage had been burned away by some great flame. Apparently, they fell from a great level, as some of the parts had been separated, that would have explain the many arms, jaws, and bits laying about.
A sickly sweet smell of metal and meat permeated the atmosphere, causing some of the onlookers to feel a little queasy. Brontes vomited a little in his mouth. Where did such a hellish spectacle come from? Why was there so many strange things raining from the skies? First, the woman. Then, the bodies. What was next? Brontes began to mull his thoughts over.
Of course, there was not much to think about. He saw this falling star, a bright plume of metal and flames above in the skies. Though he was not exactly an expert, he could see the falling star was actually falling wreckage of some sort. With another thud, another charred corpse landed at the talons of Kay, reinforcing the withering realization of the pondering Brontes.
"D-demons!" The vagrant sputtered. "Da-damned demons!"
Brontes the innkeeper stood in his place, a look of perpetual boredom painted on his face.
Another sleepy day in Greenport. Another bloody sleepy day.
Not that he had any reason to complain about. Greenport was a rather nice town, despite the otherworldly disadvantages. Clean, good food, nice neighbors (well, most of them. let’s not talk about the cults, shall we). It was just that this day was so, well, nothing. Nada. Zilch. Ennui dressed up in a pretty bow of monotony. Ugh, so boring.
While Brontes was entertaining his thoughts, a man stumbled forward and slammed an empty beer mug on the table. Oh lord, it was the local vagrant. Although Brontes liked customers, this man was a public nuisance. Judging from his gaping grin and bloodshot eyes, it was pretty obvious that he was plastered.
<font color="navy">"Hut me upb," slurred his customer. Then, he cackled, as though what he said absolutely freaking hilarious.
Brontes sighed, rubbing his temples. He was an innkeeper, not a bartender! It’s almost like the booze rotted away the concept of difference from this man. Suddenly, a large CRUNCH jolted them from any potential rhetoric they had to pass around.</font>
It was not hard to figure out where the source of the noise was thanks to the falling splinters. Of course, Brontes and the drunk did not expect a head up in the ceiling. There it was. A red bird mask stuck halfway through. If those painted eyes could express an emotion, it would be extreme annoyance. Brontes was not so sure how the mask felt, but the contempt oozing from that intruder made that a rather good guess.
More and more wood splinters rained down and with a heavy slam, the triangle, along with the rest of the body went on the floor, splattering red everywhere. Although the macabre scene stifled a few gasps from the few guests here, the stranger seemed to be fine as she managed to pick herself up and walk to the counter.
***
Today (at least that felt to her) has been a long, horrible, turbulent day of suck for her. She was minding her own business and suddenly she lost track of her own prey. Stupid luck, or more like. Stupid dirigible. Metal. Thing. Eh, whatever. Both can take the blame.
Ugh, she was so tired. Well, at least this place was an inn, or looked like an inn at least. Maybe she could rent a room and sleep it off. Kat reached into her pocket and scattered some pocket change onto the table.
<font color="Blue">
“Excuse me, miss. One thing to note.” The innkeeper reminded her. "We do not take this sort of change around these parts." He held up one of her coins to show.
Kay stood up and violently grabbed the poor Bronte’s collar towards her. "Listen." She breathed, haphazardly jabbing her pointy end of the mask near the poor innkeeper’s face. "I died. My car exploded. My quarry had escaped. I am sore all over the place and my head is throbbing. NOW WOULD YOU GIVE ME A GODDAMN BED." Sobbing uncontrollably, the duelist histrionically shook at the innkeeper.
Another noise interrupted the two from any arguing. It was a peculiar noise: a thud, then another thud and another –heavy, ponderous sounds against the ceiling. The drumming of the roof encouraged everyone, including the innkeeper and the duelist, in the inn to investigate.
</font>
Oh lord, bodies! Many of them! Charred corpses splayed spread-eagle on the dirt ground. Any effigy of their tortured visage had been burned away by some great flame. Apparently, they fell from a great level, as some of the parts had been separated, that would have explain the many arms, jaws, and bits laying about.
A sickly sweet smell of metal and meat permeated the atmosphere, causing some of the onlookers to feel a little queasy. Brontes vomited a little in his mouth. Where did such a hellish spectacle come from? Why was there so many strange things raining from the skies? First, the woman. Then, the bodies. What was next? Brontes began to mull his thoughts over.
Of course, there was not much to think about. He saw this falling star, a bright plume of metal and flames above in the skies. Though he was not exactly an expert, he could see the falling star was actually falling wreckage of some sort. With another thud, another charred corpse landed at the talons of Kay, reinforcing the withering realization of the pondering Brontes.
"D-demons!" The vagrant sputtered. "Da-damned demons!"