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| A Drop of Nelsons Blood; A Conversation between Charlie and Matthew | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 15 2018, 02:55 PM (103 Views) | |
| TheTyrantOfTyrus | Feb 15 2018, 02:55 PM Post #1 |
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What is YOUR meat agenda?
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A Drop of Nelsons Blood “How'd you do her?” Raze placed three dusty, bare bottles of beer on the table. Charlie tasted it, thick on his tongue and hearty. He drank half of it in one breathless moment. The Signbacks chuckled together in front of their guest. Then Charlie smirked with so much smarm and parroted his brother, “Yeah! How'd you do her?” Penguintail pondered this for a long while. Patiently, he let his beer sweat in his calloused palms. Long teardrops drew streaks across the dirty bottles and down the Slaver’s hand. Only when those beads collected below his hand in puddles that soaked into the unvarnished table did the Penguintail nod and reply. A spray or mist of beer spouted from Charlie's nostrils, covering himself in sticky grotesques. Razor smashed the bottom of his fist against his knee. The Signbacks couldn't help but laugh as Penguintail spoke. The Slaver smiled and took a single sip of his beer. Dressed in an old world tuxedo and a feathered top hat, he looked every bit the joker he was. Silently, Penguintail stroked his dark, straight hair and rose from his seat. “Awh. Shit…” Razor Klams spoke before he patted his plaid-rag vest, searching for something. When he found what he was looking for, Razor produced a yellow piece of parchment folded and folded. “Charlie, wait here.” “Here is subjective.” Charlie stated. “And don't shoot anyone.” “Nobody that doesn't deserve it.” Charlie chuckled. “And I swear to God, if you do anything, I'll switch your ass bloody.” “I'm not enough Zebra to have stripes on my ass, Raze.” Coyly, Charlie muttered. “Don't test me, Chuck. I'll pass every time.” The Penguintail smiled and tipped his hat, before he beckoned for Raze to leave with him. In whispers, Razor began to list names, places and began to say a few names often from what Charlie could catch. Cowboy Thompson. Wardaddy Tutter. Younger Tutter. Logan Kells. Lucy Abernathy. Quahog. Quahog. Quahog. Quahog? The Signback kid thought. Charlie noticed a young man in the corner of Bobo’s bar. A young red headed man. Another junkie. Another kindred spirit. Replacing Penguintail’s beer, the Signback stumbled over towards the man. Placing his beer on the table with a churlish nod, then he sat down. “Hey, Killer.” Charlie spoke. “So, I heard the word of the bird. How'd You Do Her?” |
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Marshel Vic HC 7 4 8 6 6 4 5 Aryanna Leatherback 9 2 7 2 4 8 5 Charlie Klams 5 4 5 6 8 8 3 | |
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| Everqueen944 | Feb 16 2018, 11:00 AM Post #2 |
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Wastelander
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Mathew did a double take from his own drink to the newcomer. "I don't-I don't know what you're talking about." He said quickly, taking a swig of his whiskey just as Bobo walked back from serving a customer. "I hope you learned your lesson about wanderin' in the wastes." The ghoul bartender said to him. "Bobo..." Mathew moaned. "I'm surprised you survived this long before coming here. Now you got a cushy gig and you decide to high tail it?" "It's....It's complicated." "This have to do with a woman? Or a man?" The singer went red in the face. "No!" The ghoul raised an non existent eyebrow. |
| http://z3.invisionfree.com/The_wastes/inde...?showtopic=2708 | |
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| TheTyrantOfTyrus | Feb 18 2018, 12:38 AM Post #3 |
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What is YOUR meat agenda?
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“Fuck off, Bobo. Jerky-looking fucking ghoul.” The Signback kid had a belly half full of liquid courage and felt wonderful. For all the rudeness of his mouth and the redness of his cheeks, Charlie laughed it all off before he turned to the junkie. “So c'mon. You're a killer. I'm a killer…,” He paused to take a sip of his beer, “Supposedly.” Penguintail’s men were in Copperton when they had stumbled upon the strangest thing. A group of righteous bounty hunters were slaughtered by a vicious army of knife-wielding churls, all supposedly to save some young killer’s life. The blind often spare those who don't deserve it. Half of all of Copperton belonged with braces around their hands and collars around their neck, Razor said. Penguintail smiled at that, then he mentioned the Mayor. It didn't matter much to Charlie. “Let's just be hypothetical here. Let's say I had a friend who saw a bunch of men get killed because they were after a certain junkie. Poor lil’ junkie was cornered and begging for his life and suddenly, freed slaves pop out from the bushes and… made a real mess. “I'm not judging. I'm not, truly. If I had to dirty my hands, I'd have to. I’m just a kid ya know, if you're scared about me ‘collecting’ your bounty or whatever. But seeing as nobody this side of the Mississippi can tell who you are, I doubt it's much of anything. Seeing as you're also a dirty vagabond playing for tips in the wasteland’s worst dive bar-” “Fuck you, cripple.” Bobo spoke up from the bar. “You aren't a dangerous man from what I can tell. You don't sell yourself as an gunman, you don't seem to be the type. But there's something about you that just seems so fucking guilty. So tell me again… “How'd you kill her? And I do mean a “her”, I doubt you can overpower a kid like me. So how'd you kill that little girl? Must've been very important to someone.” |
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Marshel Vic HC 7 4 8 6 6 4 5 Aryanna Leatherback 9 2 7 2 4 8 5 Charlie Klams 5 4 5 6 8 8 3 | |
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| Everqueen944 | Feb 18 2018, 11:31 AM Post #4 |
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Wastelander
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Mathew's face instantly changed from confusion to anger. "Ask again, kid, and I will show you." Bones growled, hand on his new knife. "Its none of your business, you drunk prick, so fuck off." The alcohol in his system as well, though considerably less, was fueling his rage. No one had the right to know. No one needed to know. Frankly he was ready to send this kid to the here after. "Oi! No fighting in my bar!" Bobo snapped. "Take a chill in your room, Mat, sober up, and you back off my singer." |
| http://z3.invisionfree.com/The_wastes/inde...?showtopic=2708 | |
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| TheTyrantOfTyrus | Feb 23 2018, 09:47 PM Post #5 |
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What is YOUR meat agenda?
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Along the sloping hills, falling and sinking and rolling down to the edge of the stream, was spotted with that light and shadow that streaked from the clouds. The four of them were standing by those grey dunes, marred with colonies of thin-skinned turf. The four of them were trying their hand at the game of war. They broke wood and threw them against the flow, into the stream from the damp clay on the banks. Splashing against that white stream, the driftwood bounded down the shining monoliths of stones that sprouted from the shallows. It was Charlie's turn, now. He felt light in the belly and not from the hunger he knew. The rough, sun-bleached plank of wood in his hand left thin splinters in his callused palm and he loosed it into the sky. The wayward plank propelled through the sky high and tall. Spiralling into the sun chaotically, it seemed to have paused in that great, wide blue. When it began to plummet down to those great, grey hills. Charlie unhooked his revolver and loosed his steel. Drawing the revolver in the same motion, he cocked the long-tongued hammer and raised the sights. He felt the wind billowing from the west and adjusted, he saw the sun behind the veil of winter clouds. He saw the plummeting driftwood and he fired. His aim was true. Gunsmoke watered Charlie's eyes and stained his smiling, yellow teeth. He heard the splash and clutter of a broken plank. Flesh is significantly less sturdy than wood, Charlie knew. Flesh couldn't take the weight of a man on the thin edge of a knife. Yet the table held firm against the knife of the gibbering junkie before the Signback. Barking at himself like a mad dog, slamming his knife into the table. It shook the cups and let the bottles of beer to clatter and spill. Charlie's right hand, hidden by the table, subtly wandered over to his gun belt. Unhooking the handle from the holster, he let long fingers caress his Grandma’s old ironside. Yet on the surface, he smiled with lips that twitched. Bobo had said something. “Fuck off, Bobo.” Charlie responded before he reached down with his left hand to produce the ratbone dagger his sister Cherry had made. He threw it unto the table and continued, “See, we both have knives. Now that we've something in common. Let's cool our jets. Maybe… we both got off to an awful start. “I'm Charlie. My dad was named Terry. And his dad was named Kyle.” He never let go of the handle of his revolver. |
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| Everqueen944 | Feb 24 2018, 09:31 PM Post #6 |
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Wastelander
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“I personally think-“ “Matt I said cool your heels.” Bobo snapped. “Or I’m cutting you off. I want a live singer, not a dead one.” Mathew sighed. He knew better than argue with the man giving him free room and board. “Yes sir.” He said dejectedly. “Go feed your pups and go up for another number. You’ve been through alot.” He got off his seat and walked away. Bobo then went under the bar and set down a shot gun. “I’ll say this again, and this is your last warning. That kid is raking in the dough for me, he is under my protection. You so much as look at look at him the wrong way and you will get a double barrel of pissed off. Stay away unless you want to give tips, got it?” The ghoul fixed him with a glare that would rival the atom bomb in destruction. “We speaking the same language, freak?” |
| http://z3.invisionfree.com/The_wastes/inde...?showtopic=2708 | |
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| TheTyrantOfTyrus | Mar 12 2018, 01:21 PM Post #7 |
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What is YOUR meat agenda?
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"Freak!?" Charlie stood up from his chair. His rickety legs made bow-legged gait towards the bar strange, almost dancing and twirling before he came to rest his elbows on the bar. He leaned into the gruesome aura of Bobo over the shotgun. Wiffing a deep stomach full of that rotten flesh, hung loose and moist and flakey. It smelled like black flesh, mauve and purple, royally black. Like rot, which clung to the mouth and you could taste the flesh. "Looked in the mirror lately, Bobo?" Charlie smirked blushing, "I'll lay off alright? But I just wanna talk. It aint a super big deal if we just... talk... right?" The Signback shrugged and gently lifted his revolver, placing it on the stained wooden bar. "Here's a little security okay? A sign of good will. Good will towards men is something too little and too scarce nowadays. But you know..." When Charlie settled down and wandered back to his seat. "Hey... so Matt, is that right? Im sorry, for my behavior again. Now... wanna hear a story that my dad used to tell me." |
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Marshel Vic HC 7 4 8 6 6 4 5 Aryanna Leatherback 9 2 7 2 4 8 5 Charlie Klams 5 4 5 6 8 8 3 | |
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| Everqueen944 | Mar 12 2018, 03:49 PM Post #8 |
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Wastelander
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“In my barman’s code to listen.” Bobo said. He put the shotgun back down under the bar. The ghoul then went back to cleaning glasses. “Oi! You either stare to get a drink. If you ain’t get out! No loitering!” The entire establishment who was silent and listening immediately turned back to their conversations and beers. “Talk.” |
| http://z3.invisionfree.com/The_wastes/inde...?showtopic=2708 | |
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| TheTyrantOfTyrus | Apr 8 2018, 10:27 AM Post #9 |
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What is YOUR meat agenda?
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"When my dad was young, he lived in the Oklahoma Highways. They rode trucks and horses and used to rule the roads. No town knew not a man whose head was taken by our band right? Okay except for this one town, it was called like Kerak. "Kerak was this big fort basically: chainlink fences and giant walls. They didn't know the wrath of our band. Oh also Im not talking about a musical band, right? Its a raider band. "Anyway, my dad and my mom they decided to crack the Kerak. There was this Tin man who worked the walls at the town. Nobody ever treated him right. Nobody ever treated him right. Poor old Tin Man. Poor ole tin. "So after a drink and some hides, Tinny opened the gates and let the Signbacks in to have their fun. Tinny got off scot free and Mom anf Dad let him hang out with them right? Well he starts crying, he starts feeling bad ya know. Hes a traitor, whatever. "Well one day, my Dad goes up to him. Pats him on the back and says, 'You cant bring back the dead. And you cant undo your sins. So you gotta move on and focus on the pleasures in life.' "And you know what? Tinny is happier for it. I mean I dont like Tinny. But you get my point right?" |
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Marshel Vic HC 7 4 8 6 6 4 5 Aryanna Leatherback 9 2 7 2 4 8 5 Charlie Klams 5 4 5 6 8 8 3 | |
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| Everqueen944 | Apr 8 2018, 12:10 PM Post #10 |
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Wastelander
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Bobo seemed unphased. “My opinion is that he should’ve been shot.” The ghoul said. “Before the bombs, he would’ve.” He started the clean the bar again. “Makes me wonder with people like you around if the world will ever be like it was before. It wasnt perfect, god knows it wasn’t, but its damn better than now. Baseball in the cornfield, lemonade stands on every corner, bloody fucking bakesales hosted by the PTA....ah god...” The old man felt centuries older as the faint scent of fresh cut grass tickled his nostils. “I need a drink.” Without ceramony, Bobo picked up a bottle of the stongest whiskey he had and drank from it, drowning the memories of lawns, picket fences, and kids with little red wagons and toy cars. He came up for air and glared. “And to think back then I only had to worry abour was the boys across the street breakinf my window for the umpteenth time. Get the hell out of my bar kid.” He ordered softly. “Come back when you have something worth drowning out.” |
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