D'Mourning Orb
Aug 16th, 2002, 09:42:37 PM
The girl in the green dress:
Loves rain, the smell of it. Hates re-runs on television. Overly self-conscious of a birthmark on her shoulder. The strap of her dress shields it.
A young man chatting with his friend:
He's scared out of his mind. Those reports from his home planet. The Yeolma Government has issued a press release. All residents of Pareguo, Siswa, Lawmarch, and Machette are advised to evacute the area in the next twenty hour hours. With no end in sight--. He's frightened for them, his family. Everynight he talks to his little sister over the telephone. She's only six. Her voice breaks him. His mother cries, telling the young man she loves him.
His friend:
He sits there listening to his friend, somewhat sympathetic, yet eager to change the subject on a horrible, selfish level. All in all, I'd say he's a pretencious bastard. As judgemental and cocky as anyone I know, that's for certain. His hands shake. An alcoholic, three weeks sober. I believe his name is Guile Vanderbosch.
The bartender in front of me:
A good man with an honest past. His favorite kind of comedy: slapstick.
These days I just pick up bits and pieces. Memories, thoughts floating through individuals' minds. I believe it to be a curse in the making.
D'Mourning holds up his index finger, as if to ask for "one more". The 'tender fecthes the scotch.
"You playin' cards tonight, Mourning?"
D'Mourning smiles wryly.
"Sam Kitchen's dropped out. Got a recital to go to or somethin'. I think it's his little girl."
The padawan nods his head. His non-verbal communication indicating that he's listening and understands.
"Billie, I don't know if he'll make it or not. Gloria--" The bartender looks over toward the Bar and Grill's cashier. "She's always good for one hand. Of course, we'll clean out the regulars like always."
D'Mourning offers a grin.
The bartender who's known to all, yet only by some as Mr. Burdle, finishes off D'Mourning's drink, and with a smile turns away to service the other patrons.
The deaf mute man turns half way around in his seat to face toward Gloria.
I always feel guilty reading her thoughts. Sometimes it's hard, though. Because of course, in my defense, I can hardly control it. But still, I try extra hard with her. It's a struggle, but most times I'm able to block it out.
<hr>
An hour has passed. The bar has closed, all patrons removed, except for those sitting at the card table. D'Mourning, Gloria, Mr. Burdle, and Guile among them.
Mr. Burdle shuffles the deck in his hand. "Five card draw. Keep your hands above the table. Show me your skin, keep those sleeves above your elbows."
OOC: Anyone wanting to participate in this RP and play some cards, just chim in and we'll know you're here.
Loves rain, the smell of it. Hates re-runs on television. Overly self-conscious of a birthmark on her shoulder. The strap of her dress shields it.
A young man chatting with his friend:
He's scared out of his mind. Those reports from his home planet. The Yeolma Government has issued a press release. All residents of Pareguo, Siswa, Lawmarch, and Machette are advised to evacute the area in the next twenty hour hours. With no end in sight--. He's frightened for them, his family. Everynight he talks to his little sister over the telephone. She's only six. Her voice breaks him. His mother cries, telling the young man she loves him.
His friend:
He sits there listening to his friend, somewhat sympathetic, yet eager to change the subject on a horrible, selfish level. All in all, I'd say he's a pretencious bastard. As judgemental and cocky as anyone I know, that's for certain. His hands shake. An alcoholic, three weeks sober. I believe his name is Guile Vanderbosch.
The bartender in front of me:
A good man with an honest past. His favorite kind of comedy: slapstick.
These days I just pick up bits and pieces. Memories, thoughts floating through individuals' minds. I believe it to be a curse in the making.
D'Mourning holds up his index finger, as if to ask for "one more". The 'tender fecthes the scotch.
"You playin' cards tonight, Mourning?"
D'Mourning smiles wryly.
"Sam Kitchen's dropped out. Got a recital to go to or somethin'. I think it's his little girl."
The padawan nods his head. His non-verbal communication indicating that he's listening and understands.
"Billie, I don't know if he'll make it or not. Gloria--" The bartender looks over toward the Bar and Grill's cashier. "She's always good for one hand. Of course, we'll clean out the regulars like always."
D'Mourning offers a grin.
The bartender who's known to all, yet only by some as Mr. Burdle, finishes off D'Mourning's drink, and with a smile turns away to service the other patrons.
The deaf mute man turns half way around in his seat to face toward Gloria.
I always feel guilty reading her thoughts. Sometimes it's hard, though. Because of course, in my defense, I can hardly control it. But still, I try extra hard with her. It's a struggle, but most times I'm able to block it out.
<hr>
An hour has passed. The bar has closed, all patrons removed, except for those sitting at the card table. D'Mourning, Gloria, Mr. Burdle, and Guile among them.
Mr. Burdle shuffles the deck in his hand. "Five card draw. Keep your hands above the table. Show me your skin, keep those sleeves above your elbows."
OOC: Anyone wanting to participate in this RP and play some cards, just chim in and we'll know you're here.