|
|
Post by Mace Parshath on Dec 28, 2006 18:52:22 GMT -5
Corky realizes the suspicion, but he'd rather have suspicion on his head than someone to take a good look at his face and scream themselves silly. Corky looks around for a tavern eagerly.
|
|
|
|
Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Jan 16, 2007 1:09:28 GMT -5
There are many, of varying qualities, but most of the ones in this region are a bit too expensive for Corky's taste... and wallet. Well, actually, mostly wallet.
Marlyla has quite a wide variety of accents, ranging from the slow, sinister "snake-speak" of Churchill City all the way to the incredibly fast trade talk of New Hark. Most don't notice each other's accents. "Why, I like that a lot! Say, you seem like a reliable fella..." The deputy seems to lower his voice now, slightly conspiratorially.
|
|
|
|
Post by Black Fox on Jan 17, 2007 22:49:37 GMT -5
"Yes? what can i do for you?" Sinclair responds to the deputy with suprise in change of tone.
|
|
|
|
Post by Mace Parshath on Jan 21, 2007 4:19:08 GMT -5
Corky looks around, getting a wee bit desperate to get out of the line of sight of so many people. He starts cutting into alleys to find less-than-civil bars, trying to get around faster and without people watching him.
|
|
|
|
Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Jan 25, 2007 22:32:37 GMT -5
"You been hearing about the Hounds here after the Bell bounty?"
____________________________________________________________________
The alleys tend not to be helpful: This is the high-class area of town. However, Corky does encounter a very strange wooden door, creeping up on his perceptions like a butterfly darting into sight. Corky feels that if he blinks, the door may disappear forever, lost in the aether... [FN: 273].
|
|
|
|
Post by Black Fox on Jan 26, 2007 2:10:28 GMT -5
"Nope, i haven't actually i just drifted into town just today, sounds like this may be some trouble and id like some more work besides my bouncer job." Sinclair puts his hand on the desk leaning towards the deputy putting on a business face
OOG: about what time is it?
|
|
|
|
Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Feb 1, 2007 19:41:02 GMT -5
OOG: Nearly high noon, from Sinclair's estimation.
"Well, with a down-low snake varmint like Branton muckying up these parts, a lot of less-than-savory Hounds are trying to pick up the bounty. A lot of 'em are only a cut better than Branton hisself. They're running around town wild. I can't catch a lot of 'em, and I can't do some of the things I'd..." He seems to try to contain his anger. "..Like to do if I got my hand on sons-em-bitches like that. So I need you to find a few of 'em and send a message for me."
|
|
|
|
Post by Black Fox on Feb 1, 2007 23:43:57 GMT -5
"Whisper in my ear deputy and no one else will know what has been said" sinclair says with a quite serious demeanor " Im willing to do what you need to get done to enforce the law in this town."
|
|
|
|
Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Feb 3, 2007 2:07:33 GMT -5
"Shore. I need it by high noon, that's the best time, everyone's watching." Pulling snuff from his pocket, the deputy begins to chew. "Gonna need to make rounds soon, but I'll wait till yer done. Try to move fast. Get the worst low-done gutterbelly snake you can find and do whatever ya need to."
|
|
|
|
Post by Black Fox on Feb 3, 2007 12:37:47 GMT -5
Sinclair looks the deputy straight in the eye with a look of determination and dons his hat and starts to leave the office without another said word.
|
|
|
|
Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Feb 3, 2007 13:41:25 GMT -5
The deputy nods politely, tipping his rimmed hat, and seems to have a few moments of introspection.
|
|
|
|
Post by Mace Parshath on Feb 3, 2007 23:51:29 GMT -5
"Oh, thank God..." he mutters and quickly walks to it, hunched and covering his face. He feels he should look up and check to see if it's really a bar, but the single-minded need to get out of sight of the crowd began to get to him. He practically starts running.
|
|
|
|
Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Feb 9, 2007 1:28:44 GMT -5
OOG: Corky just stumbled on it. Its like two feet away from him. In the side of an alleyway.
|
|
|
|
Post by Black Fox on Feb 10, 2007 17:34:41 GMT -5
Sinclair Steps out of the deputy's office and puts his hat on over his head. He looks to the sky and starts to head to a low down bar were he assumes he might be able to find one of the scoundrels.
|
|
|
|
Post by Mace Parshath on Feb 10, 2007 18:21:18 GMT -5
(Alright)
Corky pushes the doors open, breathing rather hard from the panic. He looks around, wondering if he really should've busted in like that and prepares for someone to shoot him in the guy, ready to draw from his hip.
|
|
|
|
Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Feb 23, 2007 21:32:12 GMT -5
Sinclair's new to the area. I need you to give me a direction or a location to start from, then radiate out.
Opening the door is almost like pushing aside a sea of stench: A thick wall of weight behind the door combined with a smell almost like rotten crab and sulfur. It suddenly clears. The moment thereafter is anticlimactic: A man in a yellowish-green outfit almost like a piece of armor (covers chest plus has a skirt-like thing above the thigh) raises an eyebrow while mixing two bizarre dusts. A golden scale is to his left. "...Yes?", he says in an accent similar to an Earth Chinese accent.
|
|
|
|
Post by Mace Parshath on Feb 23, 2007 22:01:45 GMT -5
Corky coughs a little bit, not one for such a thick atmosphere. He looks at the man and smiles. "I'm assuming this ain't a bar, is it?" He says cheerfully. He relaxes a bit, trying to calm his breathing. He looks around a bit more. "Looks like the local mining exchange. What'cha got there, if ya don't mind me askin'?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Feb 28, 2007 2:28:21 GMT -5
The man speaks in a very puckish tone. "Two assumptions, both wrong. You come in here fluttering like a moth, learning as little as they do before they come to the light!"
|
|
|
|
Post by Mace Parshath on Feb 28, 2007 3:58:08 GMT -5
Corky looks around again. "Um, what is this place then?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Feb 28, 2007 17:55:40 GMT -5
"A storehouse of medicine. An alchemical playground. Many things, as are all things."
|
|
|
|
Post by Mace Parshath on Feb 28, 2007 21:17:37 GMT -5
Corky blinks a little as he looks around, obviously a bit tired. "Know of any good bars? I'm looking to get a drink and a job. Going to stay in town for a day or two. Know of any jobs available? Small jobs are no problem, I just need some green."
|
|
|
|
Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Mar 1, 2007 0:15:39 GMT -5
"What is 'good'?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Mace Parshath on Mar 1, 2007 19:24:43 GMT -5
Corky considered that for am oment and a smirk came to one side of his face. "Point taken. Any bars in general close by? I don't necessarily want to go running clear across town to get a drink."
|
|
|
|
Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Mar 6, 2007 2:55:34 GMT -5
"There is one on the other side of the street from where you were approaching."
|
|
|
|
Post by Mace Parshath on Mar 6, 2007 2:58:13 GMT -5
Corky smiles. "Thanks," he says, holding his hand out to the man. "Name's Corky."
|
|
|
|
Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Mar 6, 2007 21:59:00 GMT -5
"Feng Hong." He sticks his hand out and more rubs Corky's hand than shakes it.
|
|
|
|
Post by Black Fox on Mar 6, 2007 23:08:53 GMT -5
Sinclair's new to the area. I need you to give me a direction or a location to start from, then radiate out. South |
|
|
|
Post by Mace Parshath on Mar 7, 2007 1:43:51 GMT -5
Corky blinks at the gesture and openly seems confused. He smiles politely while considering going out to the horse trouths and washing his hand, just to be sure that he didn't just get infected with something. Odd man, this Feng Hong. "Where ya from, Feng?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Mar 7, 2007 16:43:57 GMT -5
South leads you to the piers very quickly.
The fellow chuckles puckishly. "Going to clean yourself with water from the filthy irrigation of this city is likely to get you more dirty, not less. I am a traveler."
|
|
|
|
Post by Mace Parshath on Mar 7, 2007 22:30:31 GMT -5
Corky blinks. "How did you know I was thinkin' that? Not that I don't appreciate the courtesy, but I've had some weird tricks done to me in the past. Itchin' powder, burnin' oil, even had a guy rub contact poison on me. Thank God I had a tissue in my hand at the time." He looks the guy over, then around the shop. "Traveler, eh? Why did ya set up here? And ya didn't answered my question."
|
|
