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originally posted in:The New Dojo
5/18/2017 1:05:38 AM
1
[i]The door chimed; the bartender sighed; and the women swooned hopelessly.
The clicking of a heel on the ground came through the air, bouncing off each of the walls and accompanied by the rhythmic chime of metal clanging with each step of the man in boots. He kicked in small amounts of dirt with him, staining the bottom of his brown cowboy's footwear and kicking it off again with each of the large strides forward he took. Eventually the man in the duster would take a seat at the bar a few stools down from Finn McNamara, and there were a division between gazes he got; Lust, from the women, intrigue,
from the men, and annoyance from the bartender who knew he'd need to restock on alcohol.
The figure ordered his whiskey from the middle-aged barkeep and took a shotgun off his back, resting it up against the table with his Winchester rifle so that he appeared non-hostile. Though clearly he kept some small arms on him, as shown by the revolvers and swords that rested on his hips. From a pair of Colt Anacondas to a cavalry saber and a series of exotic blades on his hips, he looked almost nomadic. The bandolier and lasso on his chest helped give the image of bounty hunter, but the scruffy beard and hat said outlaw. But above all else, the badge on his chest said Marshal in a very literal sense. [/i]
English
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Finn immediately liked the look of this guy. Nomad... Outlaw... Bounty Hunter... That just screamed everything that he, as a Hunter, considered himself. "Yer quite the one fer makin' an entrance, aren't ya?" He jokingly commented as he took a swig of his beer. Due to his thick accent, and perhapse a bit too much alcohol, her wasn't the easiest to understand.
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[i]"I don't speak immigrant." The remark was laced by an accent, one of Texan descent and accompanied by an underlying tone of a jesting nature. The bartender put the drink of the cowboy on the counter and slid it to him - a full bottle of some unnamed whiskey in a brown bottle - and he started taking sips without sparing any time. He seemed unphased, and while he wasn't exactly able to hold it all, he knew that his limit lied past one bottle of liquor. "Going to have to speak English, man." [/i]
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The Hunter rolled his eyes, his face flushing slightly. "Er ya bloo'y daft, lad? 'M speakin the Queen's bloo'y Anglish, clear as day!" His voice hinted heavily at annoyance, it appears a nerve had been struck.
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[i]"You sound like you bit into a potato too hard and cut your tongue. Oh wait, y'all got -blam!-ed by famine and have no potatoes to -blam!- up." [/i]
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"Yer a bloo'y riot, mate." Finn rolled his eyes, turning back to his beer as he made a particular rude and arcane gesture with his middle finger at the Cowboy.
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[i]"Pretty sure your ex was screaming that last night, laddie," the cowboy responded, a mocking and racist sounding Irish tone latching itself onto the last word. "Now chill and stop takin' shit so seriously." [/i]
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"Yer lucky ya remind me o' an ald friend. Otherwise I would o' shot ya." His tone was joking, but there was also a hint of seriousness to it as he finished his tankard of beer and started another.
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[i]"So much as touch me and I'll shove a drill up your green ass." There was a tone of utmost seriousness in JT's words. Because truthfully, he would. He had an aug for that. [/i]
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"Touch my Guardian and I transmat your individual atoms across the entire planet." Said a new voice. Finn's Ghost appeared over his shoulder, painted green with a red stripe. "Don't think I'm joking either."
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[i]"Stay outta this 'Little light', else I get the Red Death." [/i] [spoiler]JT's sorta a meta character. Canonically he's played games like Destiny after hopping dimensions, so he knows a bit of the lore. [/spoiler]
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"... Did you REALLY just call me that?!" The Ghost growled, his eye glowing a little brighter. "Wisp... Back off mate." Finn attempted to pull the Ghost, Wisp, back.
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[i]"And for the record lightbulb, I know you can't do that. You would've done that to help your Irishman here by killing shit with him. Anyways, I'm JT." [/i]
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"Finn. I'd say pleasure ta meet ya, but I'd be lyin'." He offered a hand, smirking. "For the record, I do help him fight." Wisp actually sounded offended.
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[i]"Sure you are, Siri," JT said as he shook the hand of Finn. [/i]
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"... I could fuse your hand with that bottle." Finn shook his hand firmly. "Don' mind Wisp. 'Es just touchu 'bout yer lil light comment." Now that they were facing each other, JT could see the two red stripes that ran down the left of Finn's face. Tattoos from the looks of them.
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[i]"Little dude I can literally eat your shell. and what's with the tats Finn? They're dope." [/i]
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"Please don't. I've been eaten before, it was unpleasant." Wisp murmured as Finn turned so the tattoos were out of view. "Er... Thanks lad. But I'd rather naw talk abou' em." His demeanor changed instantly to uncomfortable.
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[i]"Wisp: No, I mean like how the Taken could just yank soldiers away. Finn: Fair enough, any stories?" [/i]
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The Hunter's face lit up as Wisp disappeared. "Sure, dependin on what ya want ta hear 'bout." He ordered another beer.
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[i]"Hit me with somethin' that'll be tough to show up." [/i]
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"Aight... Ya e'er heard o' the Fallen?" The Hunter asked, smiling slightly as he took another drink. There was an odd twinkle in his eye.
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"Never. What're they?"
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Finn raised an eyebrow in mild surprise before seeming to remember that JT was not from his world... Or timeline. Stroking his chin the thought for a second on how to describe the Fallen. "Huh... Picture the ugliest baste ye e'er saw, times ten. Now give it four arms an' make it a space pirate. Tha's the Fallen."
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"sounds fun at parties. Orgíes too, but damn can they pour drinks."
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"Yeah welll..." Finn's eyes widened in disgust as he realized what JT just said. "Oh... OH! I did naw need tha' image! Oh Light!" He gagged, doubling over and coughing.
