04-30-2016, 09:50 AM
"You're being awfully friendly today."
Once again the swordsman's meditation was interrupted. This time by the pernicious blue-hued ghost that seemed to take pride in plaguing him. She floated through the floorboards beneath him and the tow came face-to-face. Eons of constant battle had honed Renji's senses and he could "feel" her presence without even opening his eyes. The girl was almost always present, shifting through the floorboards or the rafters. Always listening. Renji's days were dotted with occasional pranks from the poltergeist. It became a sort of game, it stopped his mind from wandering for if he lost focus of the present he'd be unable to defend against her strikes. Not that they were wholehearted attacks, but a bucket of ice water dumped on your head has a way of ruining a day quite unlike anything else. So even now, even with his eyes closed, he absorbed every sensory input available. If something moved, if anything so much as twitched within his home he knew it. Renji took his time to respond, taking a deep breath before finally opening his eyes and speaking, "Am I not allowed to talk to others?"
"No, no, not at all," she responded, "that's pretty much the opposite of what I want."
Renji narrowed his eyes and asked, "What do you want?"
"I mean you're so interesting when you interact with others," she ignored the question, "one moment your the battle-scarred samurai, then an amateur detective, also a friendly small-town bartender. It's almost like you're a puppet in a play."
How perceptive.
"I'm not a damned puppet."
She giggled and said, "I guess time will tell. Though I suppose in the hands of a good marionette even puppets think they're real boys."
"What do you want, girl?" He repeated his question with a hint of fury.
"Nothing," Wanda's smile stretched across her face and she floated towards the rafters, "I just like watching you."
With a snicker the ghost-girl zipped through the ceiling and disappeared. Outside the sun was setting, casting its curtain of red and orange across the sky. The lively nature of Ambrosia slowed to a lazier crawl as the citizen's finished their daily toils. Renji sighed and stood, taking a moment to glance towards the ceiling. Puppet. That word nagged at the back of Renji's skull like a vicious hangover. One incapable of controlling their own destiny, one only controlled by forces beyond their reach. Rou's words echoed loudly 'you have no idea how much control that demon had over you'. Puppet. Nothing but a man on a string, forced to go where the strings took him. He shook his head, the ghost was trying to get to him and he refused to let that girl plague his thoughts. He was his own man damnit, now that the demon was gone, no one controlled him.
Renji arrived at the bar before dusk, to ready the place for business. This was mainly just tidying up odds and ends, stocking ice and polishing glasses. Normally a barback would prepare the bar for service and keep everything stocked throughout the night, but the bar was small enough that Renji was able to do it all himself. Not that he necessarily minded that either, there was a soothing nature to these duties, he found solace in preparation. Perhaps it was a side-effect of his need for perfection, prophylactic behavior went hand-in-hand with flawless action. However it wasn't his pursuit of perfection that soothed his soul during these preparatory moments, no it was the absence of mind hidden within them. Busy work allowed his mind to drift into a white space of thought, nothing outside mattered beyond stocking ice or polishing glasses. It was a simple pleasure that the bartender found to quiet his normally chaotic mind.
Like clockwork Lamont arrived an hour before opening, and true to his word he dressed quite dapper. A white long-sleeved dress shirt sat underneath a stark black suit-vest. The white sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, revealing bulging muscles beneath ink-black fur. Black dress pants completed the simple, yet effective, ensemble. Renji took the extra hour to show Lamont around the bar, not that there was much to show, but he showed him nonetheless. There was not much training to be had, Lamont was already experienced and his intimidating stature would prove to be more than enough with such a peaceful crowd. Still the towering bull-man stood stoic and watchful, prepared to bounce any troublemakers.
An unusually large amount of Ambrosians turned up to the bar that night. Renji enjoyed the fast-paced business that a large turnout brought. As usual the characters that ambrosia produced were colorful and varied, and each of them had their own stories. As the night dragged on all but a few patrons remained. A small crowd of dubious characters had congregated around the pool table, a cloud of smoke surrounded them as they puffed their lives away. At the bar a trio of equally odd characters sat, each of them more inebriated than the last. Two of them appeared to One of the three, a younger elf woman with her ears full of rings, asked the other two, "Have you guys heard of the serial killer skulkin' around here lately?"
"The bar?" slurred the middle patron, a travelling merchant from Camelot who had way too much to drink.
"No, silly," she responded.
"She means the whole town," the final one chimed in. His voice was hard and heavy like an anvil, but his body was old and haggard. Slung across his back sat a massive sword, one so large that it was a surprise the old codger could even move, let alone wield it.
Visibly worried, but too drunk to truly panic the merchant spoke in a hushed yet quick tone, "A serial killer in Ambrosia? Oh my. That is no good, none at all. What kinda people does he go after?"
The elf rolled her eyes and responded, "He only goes after strong warriors, I'm sure you'll be fine."
"Nah," the old warrior spoke between gulps of ale, "T'ain't no man, the killer's a beast. Somethin' outta the forest, somethin' mean."
"Oh my, that's even worse." The merchant pulled his hands to his lips and nervously kissed every ring on his fingers.
"Oh that's not true," elf-girl said, "Every victim had a weapon, that can't be a coincidence. The killer only murders warriors."
"Bah, hogwash. And just cause someone has a weapon don't make 'em a warrior neither."
At that point a familiar face entered the bar. Renji's eyes snapped to the newcomer, Chad Millwell, and his neutral expression gave way to a warm smile. The fellow swordsman returned a friendly wave in kind. He sauntered towards the bar, taking his time to observe the pool sharks before his gaze finally rested upon his friend. The elf and veteran continued their banter, much to the increasing dismay of the frightened merchant. Chad greeting Renji with his usual pleasant demeanor and ordered a drink. It took a few sips before he continued a conversation with the bartender, "So Renji, why have you chosen to settle down here? Certainly a man of your martial prowess would prefer to roam the Omniverse and experience all that it has to offer yes?"
"These people saved my life," Renji smirked a bit and continued his story, "Shortly after I fought you, I came upon a green-skinned man."
"Green skinned?"
"Yeah, I think he was some kind of demon or something. He fought ferociously, like a cornered dog. I won, but barely. Just as I was certain I was going to die I happened upon Ambrosia and was save by their doctors. To pay them back I offered my services to the princess. That's the long and short of it anyways."
"Interesting." Chad responded.
"Why do you ask?"
"No reason in particular. Personally I find it difficult to stay in one place for too long."
"You see to have been in Ambrosia for a while," Renji said.
"Hmmm, well we'll see how long that lasts," Chad offered Renji a smile and continued, "Not that I don't enjoy our chats."
Before Renji could reply the elf girl interjected herself into their conversation and asked Chad, "What about you? What do you think about the killer? Man or beast?"
Chad shuddered and took a drink before answering, "It's spooky stuff to be sure. As far as who or what the killer is, I really couldn't say."
"Ah, it don't matter none," the veteran boomed, slamming an empty tankard onto the counter, "Man, beast, they all die the same. Whatever it be, it better not cross paths with me."
"So you fancy yourself a warrior?" Chad asked the veteran, turning to make eye contact with the man.
"Aye, Treshtog they call me and I'm probly the best damn warrior you can find. An' judgin' by that wee pig-sticker at your side you think yourself a swordsman of some sorts."
Chad shrugged, "Compared to yours I do suppose my blade is a little bit on the lighter side of things."
Treshtog laughed and continued his boasting, "I've always said if'n you can't feel the weight of your blade behind your swing, well, you ain't swingin' a blade at'all."
The elf girl sighed and stood up, "You guys are so weird. At any rate I'm out for the night, see ya Renji!"
Soon thereafter the merchant left upon a carpet of fear and inebriation. The two remaining warriors, Treshtog and Chad, regaled each other with old stories of battle and conflict. Renji half-listened to their conversation, and a new wave of patrons took most of his attention away. The night continued on smoothly, asides from the occasional "killer" talk the general spirit of the populace was one of jubilation. Eventually, close to closing time, Treshtog stood and announced his departure to anyone that would listen. The old dog held his liquor well, but the occasional stumble or misstep told the story of night filled to excess. Chad followed his drinking partner's lead and offered a farewell to Renji, "It's a beautiful night tonight Renji. Oh, and please do be careful, I'd hate it if some murderous monstrosity got a hold of my favorite bartender."
"Don't worry," Renji responded, pausing for a moment before continuing, "I'll do my best."
Blood
Once again the swordsman's meditation was interrupted. This time by the pernicious blue-hued ghost that seemed to take pride in plaguing him. She floated through the floorboards beneath him and the tow came face-to-face. Eons of constant battle had honed Renji's senses and he could "feel" her presence without even opening his eyes. The girl was almost always present, shifting through the floorboards or the rafters. Always listening. Renji's days were dotted with occasional pranks from the poltergeist. It became a sort of game, it stopped his mind from wandering for if he lost focus of the present he'd be unable to defend against her strikes. Not that they were wholehearted attacks, but a bucket of ice water dumped on your head has a way of ruining a day quite unlike anything else. So even now, even with his eyes closed, he absorbed every sensory input available. If something moved, if anything so much as twitched within his home he knew it. Renji took his time to respond, taking a deep breath before finally opening his eyes and speaking, "Am I not allowed to talk to others?"
"No, no, not at all," she responded, "that's pretty much the opposite of what I want."
Renji narrowed his eyes and asked, "What do you want?"
"I mean you're so interesting when you interact with others," she ignored the question, "one moment your the battle-scarred samurai, then an amateur detective, also a friendly small-town bartender. It's almost like you're a puppet in a play."
How perceptive.
"I'm not a damned puppet."
She giggled and said, "I guess time will tell. Though I suppose in the hands of a good marionette even puppets think they're real boys."
"What do you want, girl?" He repeated his question with a hint of fury.
"Nothing," Wanda's smile stretched across her face and she floated towards the rafters, "I just like watching you."
With a snicker the ghost-girl zipped through the ceiling and disappeared. Outside the sun was setting, casting its curtain of red and orange across the sky. The lively nature of Ambrosia slowed to a lazier crawl as the citizen's finished their daily toils. Renji sighed and stood, taking a moment to glance towards the ceiling. Puppet. That word nagged at the back of Renji's skull like a vicious hangover. One incapable of controlling their own destiny, one only controlled by forces beyond their reach. Rou's words echoed loudly 'you have no idea how much control that demon had over you'. Puppet. Nothing but a man on a string, forced to go where the strings took him. He shook his head, the ghost was trying to get to him and he refused to let that girl plague his thoughts. He was his own man damnit, now that the demon was gone, no one controlled him.
Renji arrived at the bar before dusk, to ready the place for business. This was mainly just tidying up odds and ends, stocking ice and polishing glasses. Normally a barback would prepare the bar for service and keep everything stocked throughout the night, but the bar was small enough that Renji was able to do it all himself. Not that he necessarily minded that either, there was a soothing nature to these duties, he found solace in preparation. Perhaps it was a side-effect of his need for perfection, prophylactic behavior went hand-in-hand with flawless action. However it wasn't his pursuit of perfection that soothed his soul during these preparatory moments, no it was the absence of mind hidden within them. Busy work allowed his mind to drift into a white space of thought, nothing outside mattered beyond stocking ice or polishing glasses. It was a simple pleasure that the bartender found to quiet his normally chaotic mind.
Like clockwork Lamont arrived an hour before opening, and true to his word he dressed quite dapper. A white long-sleeved dress shirt sat underneath a stark black suit-vest. The white sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, revealing bulging muscles beneath ink-black fur. Black dress pants completed the simple, yet effective, ensemble. Renji took the extra hour to show Lamont around the bar, not that there was much to show, but he showed him nonetheless. There was not much training to be had, Lamont was already experienced and his intimidating stature would prove to be more than enough with such a peaceful crowd. Still the towering bull-man stood stoic and watchful, prepared to bounce any troublemakers.
An unusually large amount of Ambrosians turned up to the bar that night. Renji enjoyed the fast-paced business that a large turnout brought. As usual the characters that ambrosia produced were colorful and varied, and each of them had their own stories. As the night dragged on all but a few patrons remained. A small crowd of dubious characters had congregated around the pool table, a cloud of smoke surrounded them as they puffed their lives away. At the bar a trio of equally odd characters sat, each of them more inebriated than the last. Two of them appeared to One of the three, a younger elf woman with her ears full of rings, asked the other two, "Have you guys heard of the serial killer skulkin' around here lately?"
"The bar?" slurred the middle patron, a travelling merchant from Camelot who had way too much to drink.
"No, silly," she responded.
"She means the whole town," the final one chimed in. His voice was hard and heavy like an anvil, but his body was old and haggard. Slung across his back sat a massive sword, one so large that it was a surprise the old codger could even move, let alone wield it.
Visibly worried, but too drunk to truly panic the merchant spoke in a hushed yet quick tone, "A serial killer in Ambrosia? Oh my. That is no good, none at all. What kinda people does he go after?"
The elf rolled her eyes and responded, "He only goes after strong warriors, I'm sure you'll be fine."
"Nah," the old warrior spoke between gulps of ale, "T'ain't no man, the killer's a beast. Somethin' outta the forest, somethin' mean."
"Oh my, that's even worse." The merchant pulled his hands to his lips and nervously kissed every ring on his fingers.
"Oh that's not true," elf-girl said, "Every victim had a weapon, that can't be a coincidence. The killer only murders warriors."
"Bah, hogwash. And just cause someone has a weapon don't make 'em a warrior neither."
At that point a familiar face entered the bar. Renji's eyes snapped to the newcomer, Chad Millwell, and his neutral expression gave way to a warm smile. The fellow swordsman returned a friendly wave in kind. He sauntered towards the bar, taking his time to observe the pool sharks before his gaze finally rested upon his friend. The elf and veteran continued their banter, much to the increasing dismay of the frightened merchant. Chad greeting Renji with his usual pleasant demeanor and ordered a drink. It took a few sips before he continued a conversation with the bartender, "So Renji, why have you chosen to settle down here? Certainly a man of your martial prowess would prefer to roam the Omniverse and experience all that it has to offer yes?"
"These people saved my life," Renji smirked a bit and continued his story, "Shortly after I fought you, I came upon a green-skinned man."
"Green skinned?"
"Yeah, I think he was some kind of demon or something. He fought ferociously, like a cornered dog. I won, but barely. Just as I was certain I was going to die I happened upon Ambrosia and was save by their doctors. To pay them back I offered my services to the princess. That's the long and short of it anyways."
"Interesting." Chad responded.
"Why do you ask?"
"No reason in particular. Personally I find it difficult to stay in one place for too long."
"You see to have been in Ambrosia for a while," Renji said.
"Hmmm, well we'll see how long that lasts," Chad offered Renji a smile and continued, "Not that I don't enjoy our chats."
Before Renji could reply the elf girl interjected herself into their conversation and asked Chad, "What about you? What do you think about the killer? Man or beast?"
Chad shuddered and took a drink before answering, "It's spooky stuff to be sure. As far as who or what the killer is, I really couldn't say."
"Ah, it don't matter none," the veteran boomed, slamming an empty tankard onto the counter, "Man, beast, they all die the same. Whatever it be, it better not cross paths with me."
"So you fancy yourself a warrior?" Chad asked the veteran, turning to make eye contact with the man.
"Aye, Treshtog they call me and I'm probly the best damn warrior you can find. An' judgin' by that wee pig-sticker at your side you think yourself a swordsman of some sorts."
Chad shrugged, "Compared to yours I do suppose my blade is a little bit on the lighter side of things."
Treshtog laughed and continued his boasting, "I've always said if'n you can't feel the weight of your blade behind your swing, well, you ain't swingin' a blade at'all."
The elf girl sighed and stood up, "You guys are so weird. At any rate I'm out for the night, see ya Renji!"
Soon thereafter the merchant left upon a carpet of fear and inebriation. The two remaining warriors, Treshtog and Chad, regaled each other with old stories of battle and conflict. Renji half-listened to their conversation, and a new wave of patrons took most of his attention away. The night continued on smoothly, asides from the occasional "killer" talk the general spirit of the populace was one of jubilation. Eventually, close to closing time, Treshtog stood and announced his departure to anyone that would listen. The old dog held his liquor well, but the occasional stumble or misstep told the story of night filled to excess. Chad followed his drinking partner's lead and offered a farewell to Renji, "It's a beautiful night tonight Renji. Oh, and please do be careful, I'd hate it if some murderous monstrosity got a hold of my favorite bartender."
"Don't worry," Renji responded, pausing for a moment before continuing, "I'll do my best."
Blood