Post by High Tide on Jul 17, 2017 17:43:26 GMT -5
Two weeks. It had been two damned weeks since the last time the green had taken over and I wasn't sure whether to be happy or displeased about it all. One one hand it was nice to not just disappear into the nether randomly at some inopportune moments (try explaining it to the lady you're about to shag when you end up back in bed after disappearing into a hole in the ground three hours later). On the other hand, I kind of missed it. I had definitely made some personal growth on these trips, and I had learned. Learned a lot.
Honestly right now it would be convenient to disappear, but I had done the next best thing. I wiped my hand on the counter of the bar, inspecting it critically. Not an ounce of dust. Perfect. No one would suspect me to be here. That no one being some not so nice fellows who take issue with my rise to power. Truth be told, the whole RISE part is why I was here at the High Sea Rollers (a bar unlike anything I would be found in) hiding. They were stronger, meaner, and a whole hell of a lot angrier.
Another drink came, not in a dingy old cup with a layer of dust along the outside, not even a good ol' fashioned flask. Nope, these people were so “SOPHISTICATED” that they had fancy tumblers. Oh well, at least they were willing to give me triples, if not a tab to put them on. Who in their right mind would want bright white counters in a bar anyways. Really killed the atmopshere for me.
I wasn't here for the atmosphere though. I had too many things on my mind. I of course had another match at PCW. A tag match with Crazy Boy against two punks named “Dominator” and “Sicko”. Clever. Reaaaaal clever. I shook my head. I wasn't beyond worried about it. I had worked with and against Crazy Boy enough that it shouldn't be a problem, let alone tag teams being probably my biggest personal success. I sighed wistfully allowing myself to relive the glory days, just for a moment. At least Wasp was always willing to jump back in the ring at a moment's notice, even if he did grumble like a grumpy old man about it every damn time. If only there were teams to fight.... one could dream.
As long as Crazy Boy showed up and held up his end of the match, I hope we'd score a solid victory. We had too much damn experience to not win it. I downed the rest of the drink in the tumbler, resisting every urge I had to belch loudly. I could tell my presence was equally disturbing and aweing to the other patrons. On one hand, here I was, the semi-famous High Tide at their bar, their stomping grounds so to speak. On the other hand, the filthiest pirate in all of North America (that would be me) was sitting in their pristine bar. With all the trim and fittings (literally gold, not golden coloured, GOLD) and with my reputation for a good brawl, or general sloppiness, it was a recipe for disaster in their eyes. To set their minds as ease I rolled my eyes up and gave the biggest, goofiest smile I could muster. That ought to set them straight, minus the visible recoil from at least two.
The door slammed open and I was instantly on the defensive. My left hand slipped into my coat immediately without any conscious thought of my own, hand resting on the handle of my very well concealed sword. Small, but a hell of a lot bigger than a knife. They always said don't bring a knife to a gun fight, but no one ever said anything about a sword. The hair on the back of my neck was rising and I was on edge, ready to spring forth at a moment's notice. However it was not one of the men looking for me (by now I knew them all by face, and some by name, especially that fucker Todd but that's another story) but merely a very overly intoxicated patron. One that funny enough, wasn't me!
The very tall, very large, very red faced man ran a hand through his short brown hair trying to maintain a small sense of dignity. However all his remaining mental power had gone into that task and as such his legs meandered and he found himself crashing down into a huge display of wine bottles. A river of wine cascaded down the aisles of the neat and tidy establishment, with glass shards swimming through the current like little tiny piranhas. Even I was laughing by the time the man crashed to the floor and every single employee of the place started running around like a chicken with their head cut off.
I was positively roaring when the first one came to assist the man, and her aid ended up in him pulling her down and into the river of wine. To top it all off, she was more concerned with her ruined hair job then anything else. Comedy with your alcohol, who knew it could be so great? I certainly didn't.
However I could not stay to see the rest of the show. This was the perfect opportunity to slink out and keep on the move, without anyone hopefully noticing me as they would be too distracted by the ongoing spectacle of tomfoolery. I left a hundred dollars on the bar and quickly slunk out the door into the awaiting rainfall. It was a cool night and the moon was near full.
With a final look at the High Sea Rollers bar, I gave it a good sea salute. The place hard surprised me and made me think twice before dismissing a drinking establishment based on preconceived notions. With that I was on my way, ready to find another bar or possibly a hotel. I just had to hide out until I could get to the arena for my match, and then I would be able to deal with the problem. Until then, it was rain and footsteps for me.
Honestly right now it would be convenient to disappear, but I had done the next best thing. I wiped my hand on the counter of the bar, inspecting it critically. Not an ounce of dust. Perfect. No one would suspect me to be here. That no one being some not so nice fellows who take issue with my rise to power. Truth be told, the whole RISE part is why I was here at the High Sea Rollers (a bar unlike anything I would be found in) hiding. They were stronger, meaner, and a whole hell of a lot angrier.
Another drink came, not in a dingy old cup with a layer of dust along the outside, not even a good ol' fashioned flask. Nope, these people were so “SOPHISTICATED” that they had fancy tumblers. Oh well, at least they were willing to give me triples, if not a tab to put them on. Who in their right mind would want bright white counters in a bar anyways. Really killed the atmopshere for me.
I wasn't here for the atmosphere though. I had too many things on my mind. I of course had another match at PCW. A tag match with Crazy Boy against two punks named “Dominator” and “Sicko”. Clever. Reaaaaal clever. I shook my head. I wasn't beyond worried about it. I had worked with and against Crazy Boy enough that it shouldn't be a problem, let alone tag teams being probably my biggest personal success. I sighed wistfully allowing myself to relive the glory days, just for a moment. At least Wasp was always willing to jump back in the ring at a moment's notice, even if he did grumble like a grumpy old man about it every damn time. If only there were teams to fight.... one could dream.
As long as Crazy Boy showed up and held up his end of the match, I hope we'd score a solid victory. We had too much damn experience to not win it. I downed the rest of the drink in the tumbler, resisting every urge I had to belch loudly. I could tell my presence was equally disturbing and aweing to the other patrons. On one hand, here I was, the semi-famous High Tide at their bar, their stomping grounds so to speak. On the other hand, the filthiest pirate in all of North America (that would be me) was sitting in their pristine bar. With all the trim and fittings (literally gold, not golden coloured, GOLD) and with my reputation for a good brawl, or general sloppiness, it was a recipe for disaster in their eyes. To set their minds as ease I rolled my eyes up and gave the biggest, goofiest smile I could muster. That ought to set them straight, minus the visible recoil from at least two.
The door slammed open and I was instantly on the defensive. My left hand slipped into my coat immediately without any conscious thought of my own, hand resting on the handle of my very well concealed sword. Small, but a hell of a lot bigger than a knife. They always said don't bring a knife to a gun fight, but no one ever said anything about a sword. The hair on the back of my neck was rising and I was on edge, ready to spring forth at a moment's notice. However it was not one of the men looking for me (by now I knew them all by face, and some by name, especially that fucker Todd but that's another story) but merely a very overly intoxicated patron. One that funny enough, wasn't me!
The very tall, very large, very red faced man ran a hand through his short brown hair trying to maintain a small sense of dignity. However all his remaining mental power had gone into that task and as such his legs meandered and he found himself crashing down into a huge display of wine bottles. A river of wine cascaded down the aisles of the neat and tidy establishment, with glass shards swimming through the current like little tiny piranhas. Even I was laughing by the time the man crashed to the floor and every single employee of the place started running around like a chicken with their head cut off.
I was positively roaring when the first one came to assist the man, and her aid ended up in him pulling her down and into the river of wine. To top it all off, she was more concerned with her ruined hair job then anything else. Comedy with your alcohol, who knew it could be so great? I certainly didn't.
However I could not stay to see the rest of the show. This was the perfect opportunity to slink out and keep on the move, without anyone hopefully noticing me as they would be too distracted by the ongoing spectacle of tomfoolery. I left a hundred dollars on the bar and quickly slunk out the door into the awaiting rainfall. It was a cool night and the moon was near full.
With a final look at the High Sea Rollers bar, I gave it a good sea salute. The place hard surprised me and made me think twice before dismissing a drinking establishment based on preconceived notions. With that I was on my way, ready to find another bar or possibly a hotel. I just had to hide out until I could get to the arena for my match, and then I would be able to deal with the problem. Until then, it was rain and footsteps for me.
