The_Silent_Homecoming ((Open))

[Last_Dreamer]

((Open to one other))



The evening marked the ending of another day in Scara Brae. Markets were beginning to close and most people begin to make there way home to there loved ones. The sun was slowly making it's way past the horizon before finally disappearing from view as dark clouds begin to take it's place. After thirty or so minutes, rain begin to sprinkle down lightly on the town as the wind begin to pick up and low rumbling of thunder could be heard in the distance.

It was then that Fritz decided to make his way into town. He had been waiting for nightfall to come since he arrived at the town gate around mid-noon. The place hadn't changed much since he left. He only regretted that he couldn't have a look around and possibly look up some old friends that could help him. However, it was very risky for him to be walking the streets. It had only been two years since he abandoned the army and left on his own. He was still a wanted man.

The only person in town that he could think to talk to was an old buddy of his that owned his own tavern. It was a risk but if he was going to get some answers, he would be the best person to talk to. He continued moving forward and watched carefully as the lights in each house window begin to flicker off as people prepared for bed. Ahead, the large tavern sign hung over head displaying the name of the establishment. The Iris Gem.

Fritz pushed the door open and noticed the place only had a few guests this evening. They seem to pay him no mind as he glanced around the bar. He noticed Mike, the bar owner, right away and made his way to the bar where he was busy cleaning shot glasses.

"What will you have? I warn ya, I can make a mean cocktail." he said clearly not able to see past the heavy hood. Fritz lifted both hands and threw the hood back to reveal his face, almost making Mike drop his glass. "F-Fritz?" he said in a whisper. "What the hell are you doing back in town?"

"It's nice to see you too, Mike." he said with a chuckle. He reached for his pocket and pulled out a few coins. "How about I buy us both a drink and I'll fill you in on what I've been doing these past two years, Mmm?"


***********

After about an hour later, Fritz had covered everything including his escape, life on the road, and his reasons for returning.

Fritz had lost more then just money over the past couple of years. With his whole life dedicated to military training, he didn't have much else to live for after he left. He had never regretted his decision to leave but didn't have much direction in life. So he decided to return the Scara Brae and see if his parents could point him in the right direction. Mike went silent as he listened on.

"You suddenly got silent, did something happen?" he said while trying to make eye contact with Mike.

"I'm sorry, Fritz." he said sorrowfully. "Your parent... they were forced from there home when you left the army. The military was convinced that they were hiding you."

Fritz went silent for a moment before speaking. "So it's my fault...." he sighed. "I can only guess the flurry of curses coming from my fathers mouth. I was hoping that these two years would have given them time to forgive me but I wasn't aware or this. I doubt they will ever forgive me for this."

The two remained in silence for a few moments before the tavern door flung open. Fritz tossed his hood back on in cause they recognized him.

[Taskmienster]

The player known as Ethan “Lars” Calhoun walked into the small tavern, taking in the atmosphere like a breath of fresh air. His smile was from ear to ear. The scent of burning tobacco, warm ale, and sweaty patrons filled his senses and fought for dominance both within his nose and on his soft palette. Eyes followed him as he entered the tavern. A rare sight in a mostly high-fantasy based world, the man was a vision of the future and unique in everything he did. A thin leather coat, never meant to be zipped closed, was lined with a faux-fur collar. Thin fingers dipped just behind his studded leather belt, pushing his shirt into his waist-line to show the steel studs as much as he wished to display his heavy metal belt-buckle. The smile that painted his face was obscured by the tip of the cigarette hanging limply from his thin lips. He could taste the feel of perfect bliss, any tavern was homecoming for him, despite it all being fake.

Althanas was a game to him, in more than the metaphorical sense. He was a newly hired staff member of the virtual reality game named after the world it corresponded to. The administration had halted their hunting, had found him and elected to bring him onto staff instead of pressing charges against his illegal habits. Ethan was a character founded on coded perfection, pixilated and as realistic a creation as technology would allow. The man behind the scenes was enigmatic, unlike his creation. The man behind the character was a mastermind of coding, a fact that had allowed him not only to find his way into Althanas but eventually into the staff that had originally created it.

“Good day,” the man said to the barkeep as he sat a couple stools away from a younger human. The two seemed to have been in a discussion, deep and probably life changing. Lars could understand the relationship between the patrons and tender. He had not made it through his life, either on Althanas or otherwise, without the words of wisdom imparted by a worldly mentor. Every barkeep seemed to be wise beyond their sanction, and the words of more than one dispenser of spirits had left Ethan questioning his philosophical outlook on life. “How ‘bout a lump of whatever meat you’ve got cookin’ and a brewsky.”

The hooded figure to his right was motionless, quiet and rather enigmatic in his own right. Was it because he was wanted, if so Lars had no notion of arresting him? Was it because he had some massive abnormality scarring his features, if so Lars would probably lose his ability to remain cool and probably point it out ruthlessly? No matter what caused the younger person to pull his hood up to cover himself, the hacker cared little. A good portion of simulated meat and mead would make him much more talkative and in turn would create a friendly confrontation between himself and the other man. He was sure of it.

((I wasn’t invited, so I’m just jumping in to help out a new player with a thread. I understand SB is for 0-1 toons, but I figure that it shouldn’t do too much damage to jump in here. If the judge would like to lower my level for spoils to level 1 to make it fair, that’s cool with me.))

[Last_Dreamer]

The bar fell into an awkward silence as the man took his seat only a few stools away from Fritz. He remain motionless for a moment, fearing that the man was a bounty hunter or a soldier that just happen to be off duty. He finally broke the silence as he cleared his throat loudly and took the last few sips of his drink.

"Hey, Mike" he said as he lifted the bottle up to show its empty contents. "When you get a minute.....?"

"That's odd, you normally don't drink more then one." he said as Fritz shot him a stern look. "Right, let me get this gentleman's meal started and I'll be right with you."

Honestly, he never drank more then one but needed the excuse. As he lowered his bottle he manage to catch a small glimpse of the man's reflection within it. The man wasn't paying him too much mind, nor was her currently looking in his direction. His curiosity begin to finally get the best of him, as he shifted his head slightly and glanced at him. His mind went to work as he begin to try and analyze the type of person the man appeared to be. Presentation..... Posture...... Body language..... Manner of speaking, his mind raced for a few seconds before he finally turned and looked back the other way. The man appeared to be very sure of himself but he didn't seem the type to hold himself as such. In a sense, he appeared to be something more then what he appeared. Fritz felt belittled as he attempted to gauge the man's strength. Despite the difference in there abilities, the man didn't appear to be a threat or didn't appear to be the type that welcomed trouble. As long as Fritz didn't give him a reason, it didn't appear the man would make trouble for him. At least, that's what he estimated.

His train of thought was disrupted as Mike set a plate in front of the fellow rather hard, making a rather loud clatter. He jumped with surprise at the sudden noise. He begin to fear that his paranoia was getting worse. Everyday people were beginning to look like potential attackers lurking all around. He relaxed himself and closed his eye's and begin to listen to the patter of the rain on the roof. The calming noise was only short lived though, as Mike set his second beer in front of him causing him to jump again.

"T-thanks, Mike." he said before taking a sip of his drink. He sighed and muttered under his breath. "I'm far too jumpy tonight."

The bar suddenly became a little more noisy as a group of people came in soaking wet. Among the group, was a darker skinned woman with dark brown hair who was clearly there against her will. The group of men around her poked and pestered the young woman as she shyly attempted to resist any sexual advances towards her. Fritz had seen there type before though and knew good and well that they were nothing more then perverted assholes. They would continue forcing themselves onto the woman before finally losing patience and taking advantage of her weak physical abilities. Fritz could only sit and hope he was wrong and that the men would leave the woman be. However, the men continued on for what seemed like an half an hour. The woman's voice was becoming more shrilled as the men became more bold. Fritz knew himself better then anyone and knew well enough that he wouldn't just sit by and allow it to happen. Even if he is trying to hide his identity. Instead, without turning around he spoke aloud for the men to hear.

"You morons sure did a fine job of ruining the atmosphere in here." he lifted his bottle and took another sip before continuing. "If the young woman there has already said no, why continue to persist?"

The room was silent once again before the sound of skidding chair made it apparent that they were getting up. He felt there approach from behind and knew they were probably going to start hassling him now.
"Well, this is what you wanted...." He thought to himself. "At least the attention is taken off the girl. Maybe she will be able to get out while the attention is on me."

[Taskmienster]

Lars listened to the din of the tavern, the muted voices of those trying to hide their identities or conversations. The hacker was a man of the people, one among them though completely unlike any present. He smiled as he let his eyes peer over his shoulder and watch the people sip their drinks, eat their meals, and laugh at inside jokes. Those at the bar were the quite ones, the solitary souls who had none to be with, Ethan among them. It was not that he was anti-social, quite the contrary, he just was not one to make friends with very many people for long term. Sudden, blossomed relationships that brought about something to pass the time were far more frequent than consistent and long lasting friendships. A quick flash of straight, white teeth and the hacker would be part of any conversation.

“Here you go,” the barkeep said, pulling the eyes of the hacker back to the bar. Before him was a slightly stewed lump of… some type of meat indiscernible thanks to the cooking. Next to the food was a frosted glass, oddly enough, filled with a deep brown liquid. Ethan poked the meat with his finger, watched as the soft, soaked sustenance slipped free of the thin bone it barely clung to. Instead of taking the torn piece of food he wrapped his hand around the cold glass and let the intoxicating brew warm his throat all the way down to his stomach.

The scene changed, as if the curtain had fallen on one act and opened again to the next. New actors were on display, a woman in trouble and a group of ruffians harassing her. Like the enigmatic ‘knight in shining armor’ the man to the hacker’s right muttered his challenge. The crowd of background fillers was silenced, and the rising men were watched as if the spotlight had been split between them and the hooded figure at the bar.

Ethan sipped his brew and let the scene unfold, just another spectator. He had no qualms with the men, though they had the same moral standard as the Coronian Empire. A game, that was all Althanas was to the hacker, and as such he really had no reason to say anything more than absolutely necessary. However, the server always seemed to find a way to involve him. Perhaps, he thought, that his reason for venturing into that particular tavern was to do little more than become a bigger player. Whether it was the woman or the man at the bar that was actually a player was unknown, either way something had to be done, and quickly.

“Oy!” Ethan said as he stumbled away from the bar, towards the four men that were standing nearly shoulder to shoulder behind the hooded boy. He stumbled to the left and right, shifting on forced unsteady feet. His head lolled and the hacker’s eyes, barely opened, met the closest man who put out his arm. As if given a cane to steady himself, Lars grabbed the forearm, and bumped his head into the man’s chest. “Liss’n, liss’n bro. Wassa pr’blm? Why nah j’ss hannle this tha ri’ht way?”

“Wasn’t you that said that smart remark, you can barely talk. Why you getting in the way? Wanna get pulled into this problem?” The grating voice was sharp and venomous, but on the man’s breath the waft of residual liquor was enough to make Ethan drunk for real. The man shrugged his arm, but the hacker kept close. Better to get them talking, get them calm, and then get them out of the tavern… hopefully without the girl, a fight, or the young hooded man’s body being beaten to a pulp.


((Left it open, you can bunny Lars speaking if you want to, he’s just slurring his words and such. If you want to shrug him off so that you can start something that’s cool too.))