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Of gods, men and chaos.

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#1 Magnus


    I like it on Omicron Ceti III, Jim

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Posted 10 August 2010 - 08:19 AM

The street was dark, doors closed and curtains drawn. And although it was early September, a chill drifted though the air that made anyone swear it was November. Discarded papers were swept along the street by the chill winds.

It was one of those nights. Those nights that everyone seemed to want to ignore. There was almost a malice in the air that kept most indoors or at the very least in a group. Nights like these had almost become a common part of life. People canceling dates and meetings, not wanting to be about in the darkness that descended upon the city.

On a small street in the port side district there stood a single shop. It was just a small coffee shop favored by the locals for excellent coffee at a good price. But tonight it stood out for any to see as the only building in the area that happened to be open. The light poring out from the front door illuminating the area and adding color to the gray-lit world outside. Inside however the atmosphere was much more welcoming. A few patrons of varying age, ethnic background, and beliefs were gathered inside the shop. Two lawyers discussed their hard won victory, a man who discreetly pocketed a wad of cash as he walked through the door, a employee, a blogger, a mountain of a man, and a neigh goth girl all gathered in the main area of the shop. There were other rooms in the shop but none dared to venture into the darker parts of the shop. the feeling of malice too easily brought to mind there.


Everyone is in the main room, feel free to start up a conversation with the other patrons. Everyone is looking for a little bit of cheerfulness to lift the mood.

#2 ThreeDark



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Posted 12 August 2010 - 08:48 PM

Charisma sat next to the window, staring out at the dim world on the other side of the glass. Watching the shapeless darkness of what passed for clouds in the city blot out the stars and the moon. The cup of espresso, double cream and triple sugar, still steaming in her hand as she sipped and then turned back to the light of the interior of the cafe. She took stock of the patrons, an unusually large group tonight, as the tinkling sound of the bell situated above the door caught her attention from just beyond the sound of the music beating it's way through her earbuds.

The man, and was indeed a man, stepping through the door was not sure of foot. In fact, he looked as though he were stumbling off the worst effects of a bender. His voice, distinct and rough though heavily accented, boomed despite his obvious attempts to keep it to an inside tenor. The girl who was counter-jockeying couldn't hide the shock on her face, but she kept it cordial and professionally from her own voice as she got the big man his coffee. The bristling beard of the man seemed to shift as he walked, sat down at an unoccupied table, and downed the still fuming cup of joe in a single pull.

Charisma took a moment to remember the mans name. She knew him from her music store, he always came in when something new and heavy. She got up and sat down next to the man, smirking wildly. "So, Oggie, have another one of your nights? Looks like you're going to need a barrel of the black to wash away the grog-taste."

She rose her hand, first two fingers held up for Joy to see.

#3 treacherous


    Good...Bad...I'm the guy with the Hammer

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Posted 12 August 2010 - 09:43 PM

Bursting into the small coffee joint and making that damned little bell ring probably wasn't the smartest entrance for a man who had just stolen a purse. Ron Word on the other hand, probably wasn’t the smartest man in numerous settings. It was cold outside and the coffee house looked warm, cozy and just far enough away from the scene of a crime to be inconspicuous. Plus, it was the only place open in the odd hours. Ron’s personality fit well with the puff of air that followed him in. More like a breeze than a man, Ron usually lived life on a whim. Quickly taking in his surroundings, he noticed many eyes focus on him. Whether it was due to his rather non-coffee house look or the chill draft he had let in, he didn’t know. Right now, all he knew was he didn’t enjoy the notice he was getting. Normally Ron didn’t mind being the center of attention. For whatever he lacked in brains, he made up for with charisma. However, at this point he knew that discretion was the better part of cowardice. So, having previously ditched the purse, he quickly stuffed his earnings into his pockets. Without pause, he continued his stroll straight to the restroom to count up his new-found wealth.

#4 Magnus


    I like it on Omicron Ceti III, Jim

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Posted 27 August 2010 - 08:27 PM

For the next half hour the quaint little coffee shop was filled with the murmurs of people talking about various subjects and events. However the calm of the shop was interrupted by the sudden opening of the door. A new patron who looked to be in his mid forties entered the shop, the man gave a shudder as if trying to shake the gloom off as he hung his worn coat on the stand by the door.

Walking over to the bar with an obvious limp in his left leg he sat down on the stool between Osgar and Ron and muttered something at Joy to bring hot coffee.

“Hey, old timer.” Ron said looking over his shoulder at the man who suddenly was sitting in the stool he had intentionally left between him and the smelly man with a beard. Now seeing a bald man who seemed to smell even worse was getting angry at the intrusion into his personal space. Any farther rebuttal was cut off as the man gave him a hard stare with a glint in his eye. Ron had been around enough people to know the look of someone of the edge of snapping so he decided to simply get up and walk away, no reason for trouble.

However the man turned in his stool to continue to stair at Ron. “They’ll kill you first.” he hissed in a low voice, missing and yellowed teeth showing. Marisa and Leslie who were sitting directly across the bar felt a shiver go up their spine. As if in response the man locked eyes with them. “No, you . . .”

#5 Tarvius


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Posted 27 August 2010 - 09:07 PM

A streak of black coffee ran through the bristly wires of Osgar's beard. While his head was still being bombarded from last nights kegger, the shapes of the coffee house had just begun to make enough for him to be able to decipher his surroundings. Not bothering to wipe is now soggy beard his green eyes perked up as he noticed the young girl sitting across from him. The giant scot knew her from somewhere, though in his current state it was hard to say from where. Whoever she was, she seemed nice enough talking about... Who knows what? Osgar nodded his head absentmindedly and laughed at the next comment. Osgar had never been on of restraint when it came to laughter and this instance was no different. Osgar's laughter boomed across the coffee house transcending all the hustle and bustle of clanking cups, bongo druming, and poetic impulses.

Osgar rose from the table unable to contain his drunken revelry for much longer, and with that his mighty hand came swiftly downwards knocking the small table on its edge. Needless to say Osgar's hot cup of coffee splashed everywhere, including all over the girls lap, who looked strangely like a pixie for some odd reason. The pixie simply sat there, perplexed and dark brown spot slowly soaked into her shirt. Osgar reached out a meaty hand and clasped on the young girls shoulder, slightly brushing her blue black hair, "Sorry lassie, ol' osgar haas a bit o de tip--- tipsys."

For a moment, the young women looked as if she were going to slap the beard off of the large scottish bafoon but instead a smile slowly crept onto her face and at first let out a slight chuckle which then grew and grew until it was an all consuming giggle. "Ahhh, Oggie. What are we gonna do with you? You know this isn't the way to get discounts on Celtic Frost." With that blue, black and raven-haired pixie was whisked away by the clamor of the coffee shop.

Osgar stood there for a moment, swaying slightly in tune with his own personal rockin' concert of the mind. As the alcohol, continued to flow through him Osgar couldn't help but to unleash his booming voice once more. With hik kilt still dripping from the spilled coffee he staggered over to the counter and bellowed, "Charisma! How you doin' Lass? 'avn't seen ye in a wile nao!"

#6 Magnus


    I like it on Omicron Ceti III, Jim

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Posted 08 September 2010 - 12:01 PM

As the man continued to rand there was a deep rumbling that seemed to come from the depths of the earth itself. the windows of the small shop shattered into a million pieces and the mugs lining the walls of the shop clattered to the floor.

The occupants of the shop didn't even have time to react before the heavy cement blocks used in the construction of the building came raining down to crush all inside.

Rocks fall. Everyone dies.

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