You Kill Me But I Kill You First

[Marion Cember]

Cember sits in a corner booth. A pink margarita drips condensation apon an oak wood table before him. Gentle melody springs from his humble acoustic six string.

(Lyrics to the song Cember sings):

say you're sorry to me,
oh, before i left you.
a shot through the heart,
pallbearer, the insolence of a never reminder.
i'm gone with the latter day of saints.
though not praying on the weak,
now i bow down.
for once you're growing stronger.

don't your hands stain,
with the drawing of deepest regrets?

you kill me,
but i kill you first.

how happy,
i'm sad for you.
this time, the last time,
i've come and i'm doubting you.
just what in the kind,
of your malevolent mind.
makes the saddest of sadists,
so sick inside?

don't your hands stain,
with the drawing of deepest regrets?

you kill me,
but i kill you first

His last strum ends with him taking a sip of his margarita.

[Marion Cember]

He tuned his six string for the next song. 1/2 a step down.
Looking over the establishment, he couldn't help but notice the
dark subtle ambiance of the place. So rich in color as far as a dark shade of burnt sienna would have it. Yet, so stainful and unforgiving in hue. So many textures, all originating from the same blinding light, unwilling to lend sanctity to the macabre decor of the place. Maybe it was just his dark corner booth. Who knew?

(Lyrics to Cember's next song):

lie asleep sara goode.
i hold the radio so close to you.
feel the words that they say.
feel the strength of their weight.
oh....
the dawn breaks a new day.
and in it's wake we stay, so perfect.
the day is just like all others.
in that it holds an end.
but we tend to lose the beginning.
in our naive heads.

every moment is worth it's wait.
and every day is a change of fate.
so be gone tired songs
be gone tired songs.

old eyedias
they touch your hands.
be gone the bare
from which we stand.
this innocence without a care
means nothing.

change the song, my life on high.
and change the mood of our room and i.
the curtain flaps for no wait
the wind knows the essence of our fate.

every moment is worth it's wait.
and every day is a change of fate.
so be gone tired songs.
be gone tired songs.

old eyedias
they touch your hands.
be gone the bare
from which we stand.
this innocence without a care
means nothing.

At the end of the little diddy, Cember strumed his six string in relentless aggrevated fashion. He approached the bar to ask for another drink.

"Bartender, another margarita." Squeezing his fingers together, "A straw with a little umbrella."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

As Cirrsseeto passed by, his sensitive ears raised up, taking in the sound of the acoustic guitar. It made him slow down his pace, and soon he was lost in thought...as only Cirrsseeto could be. He paused beside the musician as he played, and suddenly reached out, plucking the guitar out of his hands and bashed it into smithereens against the nearest wall. Suddenly aware of his actions, Cirr's ears lowered, and a sullen look appeared on his face. He gently handed the unbroken "stem" of the guitar back to its owner as he shuffled his feet in embarassment.

Sssorrrrrrjy.

OOC: My little tribute to Animal House :D

[AmazonBabe]

OOC: :lol Kinda reminded me of that scene where Worf bashes that guitar-like instrument against a tree that Geordie had been playing. The ST:TNG show's title was "Qpid", where Q transports the crew to Sherwood Forest to play out the characters from Robin Hood.

[Sanis Prent]

OOC: Where do you think they got the idea :)

[Marion Cember]

Cember looked at the creature with a blank stare for several moments.

"How do you intend on paying--for my broken instrument? Because..." He shook his head, batting his eyes in disbelief "..you're not leaving.. this bar-this place... untill you do."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

When Cirr heard the word "pay", he knew that the man wanted something in return for his guitar. Smiling somewhat sheepishly, Cirr reached into his deep pockets, and pulled out two handfulls for the man. Five credits, two rocks, a blue marble, a piece of string, four chicken bones, and some lint. Cirr smiled, handing it all to the man, and walked away.

[Avolon Bisel]

Oh lord. He could see it now. Either kitty or kiddie brains all over the bar. The cat people had a history of being able to rip a man's skull from his body. However, this guy seemed to be bent on getting his money. No doubt the lint wouldn't sooth his heartache. Max had been tootling along in distant back vocals. Ever the embassador of music, stinky and rightous. The 'droid was one of those rare blends. Aristocratic outlook with no money.

"Dip into your researves? What the hell?"

The 'droid pulled out a compartment, chipping out of the bar counter base. He retracted a guitar, electic, from the area with his hand/intrument.

"Not again."

The 'droid tootled a chuckling yes and plugged himself into the guitar. He sents a message through, which translated into music eminating from the strings.

"Yeah, great. I pay for this junk unwillingly and you get to reap the benefits. Singing yourself to sleep."

The astromech knew how to hack into his pocketbook. The tin can had set up the anti-hack system for him in the first place. Little punk. He creates something Avolon doesn't understand, so he can drain his resources under his nose.

"Oh, great. Give it away," sarcasticly he added, "it's only money."

The 'droid attached a grappling hook and scrapped the instrument across the floor, to the fuming hippie.

Tootle, beep, beep. It made no sense to the man, but there the guitar lay.

"It's a humble present of peace from us to you," Avolon translated with a monotone voice, head in hands. "Take the damn thing and keep it away from Cizeracks."

[Marion Cember]

"Um--thanks." Cember's eyes were still on the Cizerack's back. "But... he's going to pay for what he did. You can't just destroy other peoples'--especially my property like that."

He began to stand up. The 'droid's face seemed sincere, even though it was devoid of any features resembling such.

"You would really give me this guitar?"

Max beeped.

"I appreciate that... music lover?"

The 'droid beeped again.

He turned his attention to Avolon. "And you would be the bartender-slash bouncer.. I would take it?" Cember nodded solemnly. "If I go kick that cat's a-- you'll throw me out I suppose?"

[Avolon Bisel]

"Um, you mean if you tried to kick his butt?" Avolon said, more than asked. "Yeah. I'd throw your scattered body parts out back. Trust me on this, grizzly."

Avolon kicked Max as he rolled next to him. Dumb 'droid.

"Well, I'm the Chief of Security and I poor drinks occasionally for the more attractive female patrons."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr heard the threat, and fluttered his ears as he turned around. Now, that wasn't nice...

[Marion Cember]

He shook his head smiling. "I'm not worried about inbreds Chief."

Marion Cember was indeed a biggot. He had no respect what-so-ever for the Cizerack species.

He turned to the large creature. "You pay for my godd--- guitar, right now-or either A, I kick your a-- ..." He turned to Avolon and Max, then back again. "Or for the moment let's suppose you f--- me up a little. It's possible. Unlikely, but h---, for argument's sake-it's possible. Know what happens then? I take your filthy digusting unwashed kitty cat a-- down to the station, and do you know what they'll do to you there? Anything I f---ing want them to."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirrsseeto scowled, his ears folding back a little. He pointed to the man's filled hands.

jI pajid jyou.

[Marion Cember]

"It's gonna cost you seventy-five for that one." Cember pointed to the trashed instrument. "The one you just broke. That's seventy more--furball. "

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

No...jI pajid jyou.

Cirr's voice took on an aggressive tone.

[Elsius Brandt]

Elsius shook his head at the rookie's actions. What sloppy poise. He'd be out of the running for RSC Lt. many years unless he cleaned up his act. Right now, he was hankering for a demotion. Going up against a kitty-cat Cizerack with your fists balled in anticipation was like walking into a fireball with liquor on your breath.

"That so, MC? Anything?" He said, smirking.

Anything they wanted him them to do? The unshaved ruffian had a lot to learn about his place in this mottled life.

In that smooth limp walk he always had, he slowly approached the two. Of course the man could probably detach someone's limbs from them before suppertime, he liked people thinking he was just a poor old street husler with a bum leg. His leg was in perfect condition.

"Yo, buddy. Take it easy on my man MC here. The chip on his back's mighty heavy, you know what I'm sayin'? His wife's on ice, literally and you just broke his only way to get out that pent up frustration. Think about how you feel when your mistress takes the only morsel of food you've found with ample flavor for your taste, and takes it for herself. Kind of like someone deflated the baloon and they didn't offer a patch to fix the hole."

Elsius reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his badge. It was of the highest rank the RSC allowed, chief of operations. Of course they didn't have great jurisdiction here, they did have good pull with the local authorities and good enough understanding of the system to get what they wanted. Although Cember made them sound so shady. Punk. He'd smack him around for that later.

"Now I'm letting you off with a warning now, because I know you're sorry. Just remember, not everything that goes bump goes boom. And not everything you don't like, you can break. As for you, MC," he turned to his trainee. "That's a pretty damn cheap six string. My nieces cost three times that. Take the damn electric that little trashcan is offering you and shut up."

[Marion Cember]

"Elsius. That cat deserves to pay out of his ass. And from his chronic bad breath, I'd surmise-he'd better stop licking and invest in the wonder product, bidet." He turned to the cat. "Your jar of savings--for said bidet. It's gone. Fork over the cash, Ciz-crack."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr hefted the man up with one hand around his neck.