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Post by dantesinferno on Jun 15, 2010 8:51:49 GMT -4
(Yeah, has nothing to do with much of anything, just been a long time since I RP'd, trying to not get insanely rusty)
Amongst the usual hustle and bustle of a busy happy hour, fans and staff of GX alike are busy in their own activities, the Lounge showing the extreme signs of life that a business associated with such a successful company would enjoy. But, amongst familiar faces, a lone stranger sitting by himself in a shadowed corner seems to stand out. True, new customers is not a rare thing, but this man seems to be a bit, off. Despite it being the dead of summer, he is wearing a heavy looking black trench coat. Long dark black hair hangs over his face, highlighted with bright red streaks. Even in the darkness of the area, he wears shades over his eyes. A light suddenly appears over his face, as he flicks his lighter, putting the flame to his his cigarette, as he motions over to a waitress. She raises and eyebrow, looking a little irratated as she walks over.
Waitress: I thought I told you to not mess with the lighting in the booth sir.
Lone figure: So sue me... maybe I have sensitive eyes? Either way, another pitcher of Budweiser. While you're at it, a bottle of Jack Daniels and the largest shot glass you have.
Waitress: Listen, that is your third pitcher, and I haven't seen you offer any money yet. Tabs are only for GX staff and talent, so either show some cash or I'm calling security. Also, this area is strictly no smokeing.
The lone figure lowers his shades, revealing a pair of blue eyes, outlined with blackened scars from a fire long since burned out. For a moment, the blue shifts to red. He fixes a glare on the waitress, before reaching into his trench pocket, tossing a stack of hundred dollar bills onto the table.
Lone figure: You haven't a clue who I am, do you?
The waitress is a bit stunned at the amount of money, unable to answer at first.
Waitress: W..well. No. But, GX is a pretty big deal you know. We get lots of new customers here.
Lone figure: Heh, so more customers than you know what to do with, so being rude to one "minor" guy won't exactly hurt your profit margin huh? I've had people go "missing" for less than that.
The waitress suddenly glances towards the bartender nervously, not likeing this conversation one bit.
Lone figure: Ah cool it. I'm not even in the mood for fun anyways, so you're safe. Not like I'm anybody anymore anyways. Used to be top of the game. My name used to make people nervous, some even fearful. But those days are done for now. Maybe I should of gone with Eric, done the whole Hollywood thing. I'd of made a killing in the slasher films.
Waitress: Um...ok... I'll uh, get your drinks.
The waitress hurries away from the man, obviously shaken. The lone figure sits back, shakeing his head, pretty certain either the bartender himself will be bringing the drinks, or at least a different waitress. He takes a deep drag from his cigarette, leaning back, before exhaling a large grey cloud of smoke. Suddenly, his cellphone rings, and he reaches inside his trench to answer it.
Lone figure: Yeah? Oh... hey. Eh, you know the usual. Found a dive to sit in, having a few drinks, enjoying a cig. Yeah... yeah, I know, not the best way to keep my career going. Listen, I've had my neck broken twice, my arm nearly literally ripped out of socket, and buried alive lord knows how many times, a few drinks and a pack of cigs a day won't hurt me anymore than I have been.... Nah, they don't even recognize me around here. Guess makes sense, lots of big dogs here. But, I'll get in the groove. Maybe find a few roadies... take my putter out for a test drive.
As the lonfe figure talks on the phone, a different waitress than before brings over a pitcher of beer, along with a frosted mug, and the bottle of Jack Daniels and a double shot glass. She sets them down quickly, and leaves just as quickly, not even giving the man a glance.
Lone figure: Heh, should try this bar sometimes man. Already have the waitress's afraid looking me in the eye will get them on some sort of missing person's list... Nah, I'm not gonna do anything. Roadies come and go, along with pizza boys, girl scouts, and Jehova's Witnesses, but you make waitresses disappear, it gets harder and harder to get a drink.... Hey, no one can PROVE that. Innocent till proven guilty man. As far as the world knows, all those "incidents" from then were all just kayfab. Listen, I've gotta pretty big drink order here. Talk to you later man. You might even see me on T.V. again some day.
The lone figure closes his phone, pouring the beer into the mug half way, taking the shot glass, tossing it over his shoulder, before filling the mug the rest of the way with JD. He takes a deep long drink of it, before lighting up another cigarette. He lets out a loud deep belch, grinning as he gets some annoyed and disgusted looks from the other patrons. And just as he's about to take another drink, he glances over to notice the bartender makeing his way towards his table.
Bartender: Listen buddy, I don't care how much money you toss around here, if you keep this up and wrecking things, I'm going to have your butt hauled out of here.
The man grins, and slips off his shades, tucking them into his trench coat, fixing his full gaze on the bartender.
Lone figure: And... do you really believe you have that power?
Behind the bartender, two large men step up, both fixing a look of violence on the man. This only brings out a chuckle from him, as he reaches into his trench, and slowly pulls out a putter.
Lone figure: I suggest you guys... back off. Trust me, you're not getting paid enough for this.
Bartender: That's it, toss this bum out on his ass.
Before the two men can make a move, the man's left hand swings up, the end of the putter catching the bartender under the chin with a sickening crack, his body nearly doing a back flip as it falls back to the ground with a loud nearly lifeless thud. The two bouncers glance back, a grave mistake, as suddenly, the largest of the two finds the half empty beer pitcher crashing across his face, shattering, deep cuts appearing on his face, beer splattering everywhere, the gasps and screams of shock of the other patrons filling the lounge. The lone figure is now standing face to face with the last man standing. His blue eyes no longer blue, but a bright red, so bright they shine in the darkness. He grabs the man by the shirt collar, and lifts him effortlessly off the ground, despite a size difference.
Lone Figure: You worthless pigs... gone made me waste damn good beer.
Bouncer: What the hell kind of freak are you?!
The lone figure grins, and pulls the bouncer closer, fixing his shineing gaze deep into his eyes.
Lone Figure: The worst nightmare a rude, disgusting, worthless sheep like you can have. I'm a demonic psychopath who like a good drink... who's idea of fun is terrorizing the innocent, and I just love pain. Inflicting it... receiving it... showing its glory. Now, I can let it slide that here I'm not a super star, that I don't have fans flocking to me. BUT, I WILL NOT accept being tossed out of a bar, especially when I just dropped two thousand dollars into your purse. A pretty damn good tip, considering I've only have four pitchers, counting the one seeping into your buddies face, and a bottle of JD. Now, you tell me... is it FAIR to treat a well paying customer this way? WELL?! IS IT?!
The bouncer starts to shake a bit, feeling a sense of dread he wasn't acccustomed to, before shakeing his head, glancing around at the fleeing customers, seeing the rest of the security held at bay, unsure if to come any closer, the bartender and other bouncer out cold on the ground, blood pooling around them.
Lone figure: That's what I thought... not fair at all. Not one F***ing bit. And I was even nice... I gave you a warning, didn't I?
The bouncer nods rapidly, sweat pouring down his face, his face turning red from lack of oxygen due to being held up as long as he had been. The lone figure shakes his head, reaching over and grabbing the bottle of JD, putting it to his lips, taking a long deep drink, draining the rest of the contents, tossing the empty bottle at the bar, the sound of shattering glass filling the silence of the now mostly emptied lounge.
Lone Figure: Now... I'm going to say this once, mostly for the effect of the remaining security. I am DANTE S. INFERNO. I'm a former multi-time world champ, tag team champ, and TV Champ. I'm also a suspected murderer. I'm a confimer anarchist, and I have a very low level of patience. From now on, when I come here, STAY OUT OF MY WAY. I will get my drink, I will rip out the lights if I want, and I'll smoke ALL I want. Got it?
The bouncer nods even more, kicking his legs a bit more, his face turning blue now, sweat dripping off his face, his eyes filled with fear. Dante nods, looking pleased.
Dante: Good... but you won't remember any of this... and let's hope your workman's comp covers this...
Dante clenches his free fist, drawing it back, before delivering a punch into the bouncer chin, teeth and bone cracking under the force of it, the shirt tearing where it was held, the lifeless body of the bouncer sent flying, crashing in a heap onto a table, crushing it, splintered wood and shattered glass flying in all directions. Dante glances around at the other security guards, who have definatly chosen to not go near him. He grins, reaching into his trench, pulling his shades back out, and slipping them back on. He then reaches into his pocket, pulling out a pack of Pall Mall full flavor 100's and lighter, lighting up a fresh cig, taking a deep drag, blowing smoke towards the guard.
Dante: So, we all have an understanding? Good. Oh, and let them now I AM talent, so my tab better be ready for me when I come back tommorrow. Oh, and send my apologies to the janitor. Gonna be a pain to clean this up, huh?
Dante lets out a loud, cruel laugh, as he makes his way out of the lounge. He stops short of the exit, lowering his shades to look into a security camera, which had filmed the entire thing.
Dante: Oh... and here's the kicker. I'm the GOOD guy!
Dante lets out another loud cruel laugh, as he final exits the lounge, leaving behind the carnage of his visit, likely not to be forgotten anytime soon.
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good rp
