Post by Fenrir on Aug 23, 2006 21:03:58 GMT -5
"More!", was the drunken roar that echoed through the confines of the Drakborough Bar. The door was flung open and in a very old-western style, a man flew out of Joker's Bar and landed in a heap of tattered clothing; his scarce amount of cleanliness getting ruined even more by the mud from a late rain. As the figure that squirmed about in a pool of mud struggled to his feet, a crowd exited the Bar to take a glimpse at the man in the street, but quickly moved out of the way as a second figure made his way from the tavern. He was of a hulking stature; a tall man who's muscle had mostly gone to fat, but could still pack a punch. Firewhiskey was laced so heavily on this man's breath that when he exhaled it seemed that he just might breath fire, and for that reason the bystanders pitied the man in the street who had the naivety to challenge the local bar-fighting champ.
"More you ninnie!", yelled the large human as he advanced on the fallen figure; the rancid stench of alcohol shooting from his lips like a shower of bullets. The fallen figure, face covered in mud, stopped his squirming and started to push himself to his feet before he became disoriented, and slipped back to where he had started. "Can't hold your liquor!", hollered the town drunkard; clearly amused by this newcomer's ways, "Only an ugly dolt like yourself could never 'old down more than a glass! 'oly Mary; your do you need your mammy to 'old your 'and, you great lummox?" However that was the straw that broke the camel's back; the man covered in flith rose to his feet this time with slipping or losing his footing, and turned to face his antagonist.
"Oh come now Ricardo; clearly the english language doesn't suit you at all. Try something with a bit more flavor to it", was the cultured voice that the now-standing newcomer used; an odd contrast compared to the voice that many associated to his person. Considering it has been his first time drinking, Fenrir had managed not to take a few glasses of firewhiskey, but an entire barrel of the stuff; at first there were no effects on him, but now it was clear that so much alcohol on the first time didn't mix well. And his drinking talent seemed to have offended the local champion and next thing he knew; the lycan had wound up in the streets. Trying to be amicable, Fenrir spread his hands out in a gesture that seemed to say"Why can't we be friends" and said, "I've got no quarrel with you Ricardo; just let me back into the Bar and everything will be fine."
"Hell Bells no!", spat Ricardo; his puffy face seeming to inflate even more as he clenched his fists harder, " You ain't going back in Senor. If you want to go back, you can kiss my dariair!". Looking to the ground for a moment, Fenrir chuckled before locking his eyes on Ricardo; the bloodlust risen once more in Fenrir's unsympathetic eyes. "You know Ricardo....why kiss it...when I can simply take a bite out of it?", said Fenrir in a no-nonsense tone and it was in that moment that Ricardo realized the folly of his mistake. In a flash, Fenrir had turned into a wolf and was on him; his canines sinking into the man's backside before ripping off an entire cheek, and promptly gulped it down as if he hadn't eaten in years. 'How was that for a lesson Chico?', barked Fenrir mockingly into the fat man's mind, Now get out of my sight before I do something far worse.
Yet despite his pain, despite his amigos' warnings to get out of there was the goings were good, Ricardo shoved them off and rose to his feet; screaming at the top of his lungs as both the pain of the initial bite and the disease of lycanthropy were taking hold of his body. "You bastard!", spat Ricardo, "You can suck my John Longfellow!". Turning back into a man, his face and overcoat smeared in blood, Fenrir turned back to Ricardo and with a sad shake of his head said, "I told you once and now I tell you for the final time; stick with Spanish Ricardo. English isn't your style." And before anybody could hope to restrain him, the raven-black haired lycan threw himself on the arrogant spaniard and sank his human teeth into the fat man's soft throat. Making spluttering sounds of suprise as blood bubbles popped around his mouth, Ricardo struggled in vain until with one last twitch of his leg; the fat bastard had passed on.
Straightening to his fullest over his prey's still corpse, through Fenrir's teeth gushed both blood and chunks of what used to be Ricardo's throat, and in this primal state the intoxicated lycan warily paced back and forth; staring at everyone before swallowing his disgusting feast. "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly", muttered Fenrir as his eyes seemed to lock on each individual; the silver motifs of wolves clinking on his overcoat like the spurs of old western heros, "I'm not Good; the first person that thinks that will be mistaken. I didn't kill this man because of what he was, but how he insulted me. I'm not Bad; you think that for a milisecond and I'll prove to you otherwise. I just like killing things and eating human flesh; perfectly normal in my eyes. And if you even consider calling me Ugly; you've got something else coming to you."
Teetering awkardly toward through the Bar's doors before crashing into a seat right at the bar itself, the signs of how far his intoxication was, Fenrir's eyes squinted and he shouted, "Bar tender! Get me a....a....get me a....gah. GET ME SOME APPLE JUICE!"
ooc: If you haven't noticed; I'm bored out of my mind. Free to the public; cause here I can't eatcha
"More you ninnie!", yelled the large human as he advanced on the fallen figure; the rancid stench of alcohol shooting from his lips like a shower of bullets. The fallen figure, face covered in mud, stopped his squirming and started to push himself to his feet before he became disoriented, and slipped back to where he had started. "Can't hold your liquor!", hollered the town drunkard; clearly amused by this newcomer's ways, "Only an ugly dolt like yourself could never 'old down more than a glass! 'oly Mary; your do you need your mammy to 'old your 'and, you great lummox?" However that was the straw that broke the camel's back; the man covered in flith rose to his feet this time with slipping or losing his footing, and turned to face his antagonist.
"Oh come now Ricardo; clearly the english language doesn't suit you at all. Try something with a bit more flavor to it", was the cultured voice that the now-standing newcomer used; an odd contrast compared to the voice that many associated to his person. Considering it has been his first time drinking, Fenrir had managed not to take a few glasses of firewhiskey, but an entire barrel of the stuff; at first there were no effects on him, but now it was clear that so much alcohol on the first time didn't mix well. And his drinking talent seemed to have offended the local champion and next thing he knew; the lycan had wound up in the streets. Trying to be amicable, Fenrir spread his hands out in a gesture that seemed to say"Why can't we be friends" and said, "I've got no quarrel with you Ricardo; just let me back into the Bar and everything will be fine."
"Hell Bells no!", spat Ricardo; his puffy face seeming to inflate even more as he clenched his fists harder, " You ain't going back in Senor. If you want to go back, you can kiss my dariair!". Looking to the ground for a moment, Fenrir chuckled before locking his eyes on Ricardo; the bloodlust risen once more in Fenrir's unsympathetic eyes. "You know Ricardo....why kiss it...when I can simply take a bite out of it?", said Fenrir in a no-nonsense tone and it was in that moment that Ricardo realized the folly of his mistake. In a flash, Fenrir had turned into a wolf and was on him; his canines sinking into the man's backside before ripping off an entire cheek, and promptly gulped it down as if he hadn't eaten in years. 'How was that for a lesson Chico?', barked Fenrir mockingly into the fat man's mind, Now get out of my sight before I do something far worse.
Yet despite his pain, despite his amigos' warnings to get out of there was the goings were good, Ricardo shoved them off and rose to his feet; screaming at the top of his lungs as both the pain of the initial bite and the disease of lycanthropy were taking hold of his body. "You bastard!", spat Ricardo, "You can suck my John Longfellow!". Turning back into a man, his face and overcoat smeared in blood, Fenrir turned back to Ricardo and with a sad shake of his head said, "I told you once and now I tell you for the final time; stick with Spanish Ricardo. English isn't your style." And before anybody could hope to restrain him, the raven-black haired lycan threw himself on the arrogant spaniard and sank his human teeth into the fat man's soft throat. Making spluttering sounds of suprise as blood bubbles popped around his mouth, Ricardo struggled in vain until with one last twitch of his leg; the fat bastard had passed on.
Straightening to his fullest over his prey's still corpse, through Fenrir's teeth gushed both blood and chunks of what used to be Ricardo's throat, and in this primal state the intoxicated lycan warily paced back and forth; staring at everyone before swallowing his disgusting feast. "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly", muttered Fenrir as his eyes seemed to lock on each individual; the silver motifs of wolves clinking on his overcoat like the spurs of old western heros, "I'm not Good; the first person that thinks that will be mistaken. I didn't kill this man because of what he was, but how he insulted me. I'm not Bad; you think that for a milisecond and I'll prove to you otherwise. I just like killing things and eating human flesh; perfectly normal in my eyes. And if you even consider calling me Ugly; you've got something else coming to you."
Teetering awkardly toward through the Bar's doors before crashing into a seat right at the bar itself, the signs of how far his intoxication was, Fenrir's eyes squinted and he shouted, "Bar tender! Get me a....a....get me a....gah. GET ME SOME APPLE JUICE!"
ooc: If you haven't noticed; I'm bored out of my mind. Free to the public; cause here I can't eatcha