First Entrance!
The door opens, curiously enough, onto another bar. No one immediately comes through; however, there is a great deal of shouting and protesting, accompanied by the sound of shattering crockery and possibly some small furniture.
"I am neither a thief nor a cheat! Well, I have stolen lives and a fair few hearts, perhaps, and cheated Death once or twice, but that is different. You are an assassin of character, that is what you are. Ha! You see, it's funny, because I am an actual assassin and you are just a scraped-from-the-barrel street thug with less sense than brains, and that should be impossible."
There's the sound of sudden scuffling, followed by a yowl of protest and more heavily accented squabbling.
"Take your hands off of me! I know your type, I can guess at where they've be- HEY!"
A blond, tan personage suddenly comes through the door. He's airborne, which is not the natural means of locomotion for his species, and he hits the floor roughly, though bounces to his feet almost immediately. Short, lithe, with a tattooed face, pointed ears, and clad in a light set of leather armor, he gives a sigh and shakes his head as the door closes behind him and he gets a good look at where he's ended up.
"Ah. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, as they say?"
Zevran Arainai, meet the bar. Bar, Zevran.
(Hello! I have an early night tonight, but should be around for a couple hours, though I'll be a bit slow with homework. Post is open indefinitely for those that want it and slowtimes are welcome, so feel free to tag and I'll grab them in the morning.)
[tinytag: zevran]
"I am neither a thief nor a cheat! Well, I have stolen lives and a fair few hearts, perhaps, and cheated Death once or twice, but that is different. You are an assassin of character, that is what you are. Ha! You see, it's funny, because I am an actual assassin and you are just a scraped-from-the-barrel street thug with less sense than brains, and that should be impossible."
There's the sound of sudden scuffling, followed by a yowl of protest and more heavily accented squabbling.
"Take your hands off of me! I know your type, I can guess at where they've be- HEY!"
A blond, tan personage suddenly comes through the door. He's airborne, which is not the natural means of locomotion for his species, and he hits the floor roughly, though bounces to his feet almost immediately. Short, lithe, with a tattooed face, pointed ears, and clad in a light set of leather armor, he gives a sigh and shakes his head as the door closes behind him and he gets a good look at where he's ended up.
"Ah. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, as they say?"
Zevran Arainai, meet the bar. Bar, Zevran.
(Hello! I have an early night tonight, but should be around for a couple hours, though I'll be a bit slow with homework. Post is open indefinitely for those that want it and slowtimes are welcome, so feel free to tag and I'll grab them in the morning.)
[tinytag: zevran]