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  1. #11
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    (I just wanna know who he's talking to specifically xD)
    "I don't know what words I can say
    The wind has a way to talk to me
    Flowers sleep, a silent lullaby
    I pray for reply
    I'm ready"
    -Melfina's Song

  2. #12
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    (Works for me Hari! I like the initiative!)

    "Ma'am?" Isabel leans toward Cory. "Ma'am he says. So polite!" She snickers.

    "Well MR SIR, good I'll except, but honest eh..." She waffles her hand in the air with a wink. "Might be pushin' it cutie."
    Back to Cory, Isabel raises her fresh glass to her newfound drinking companion to toast.

    "To your good taste, Ma'am." She doesn't wait for a reply before downing the generous drink,
    nearly guffawing herself to death during the swallow. HACK WHEEZE "...smooth."
    The young man behind the bar is so nervous, Isabel finds that adorable, she can't help herself.
    Reaching over she ensnares his tie tugging him close, too close.
    Close enough for him to get a good wiff of the other alcohols lingering on Isabel's breath.

    "Outlaws, huh?" See muses testing the barkeeps ill-formed tie. "Serve any good, honest ones of those lately?"
    After fixing his knot, she studies his eyes with deliberate coy as she slides the tie perfectly into place. "Or just break their hearts?"
    The booming cackle from the back steals Isabel's attention, her face falls into a more serious expression.

    "Pistol envy eh Patchy? That's personal business you're-" Stops, gropes her empty hostler and goes pale.
    Her eyes never leave the pirate looking fellow in the back, but her voice drops low. "Ah shit..."

    "Hey, bourbon buddy." She whispers to Cory and holds out her empty shootin' hand. "Help me out, I'm losing face here."
    Still, Isabel puffs up with her best braggart bravado, not to be outdone by the mysterious stranger and his smokey haze.

    "Found it! Who's askin'?"
    "Believe in yourself and create your own destiny. Don't fear fate." - Narrator
    avatar by: beautifulhangoverx


    Anime-Planet.com - anime | manga | reviews


    This was a good idea Mantis.

  3. #13
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    Joe cowered behind the counter, rather flustered by what had just happened! Clyde looked on cautiously, shoving Iris behind him, unsure of what was about to unfold. Drunken brawls were not an uncommon occurrence here on Sentinel, however, two Casters in one place...? This could mean trouble.

    The old captain let out a sigh of relief, before holstering his weapon once again. Clearly, whoever this woman was, she was of no threat to him. He tilted his head to the side, and pointed towards the old blaster that had landed by the elder lady's foot. "Y'best be taking better care of that from now on, lass." he said, picking the weapon up off the ground and placing it back into its holster. The old man meant well, but the tone of his voice seemed to imply this was a warning more than anything. As he made his way towards the exit, he said quietly, almost mournfully; "T'aint safe for us Casters 'round these parts. Not since..." he paused, turning around to face the young adventurer once again. "We be marked, lass. They'll chase us down like dogs, and kill without warning. Ya best be takin' care o' yerself." He tipped his tricorne, and made his way out of the bar, vanishing into the darkness of the night.

    The tension in the bar seemed to relieve at last, as customers went back to their drinks and conversations. Joe pulled himself back up from behind the counter, and let out a huge sigh of relief. He stared at his reflection in the woman's empty glass, lost in thought. "What the old man was talking about, could that have something to do with...?" his mind pondered on the red-haired outlaw he had only heard of in rumors. "Could the stories really be true, about the man who found the Leyline and took down the Kei Pirates...?"

  4. #14
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    (I'm the only one with one character now. xD Time to fix it!)

    The cowering bartender was far more interesting than the old pirate of a man that spoke with a tongue not known outside the story books she used to read to her brother. Sipping at her drink unhindered, she let out another sigh- finishing it and stretching almly. She had no weapons but her mind- and she didn't feel a need for one. Somehow, she felt perfectly safe there with all the outlaws and sallywags about.

    "Listen, youngster." She mused, sending a smile Joe's way that had a mix of sincerity and an enigmatic threat to it. "I don't like being seen as old, but hiding there won't show anyone the man you are. Don't hide just 'cause a lady has a gun. It's not as shocking to have a caster around anymore. Heck, there are kids your age running around trying to find the best master to learn the art from."

    A grumble came from the door as a boy, dishevelled red hair and a lanky build, barged in. "I've been looking everywhere for you, Sis. Why are you out drinking at a time like this?"

    "See this kid, bartender? He's weak, but got a strong mind and will. You look like a strong lad, so don't cower around- be like this kid and stand proud of yourself."

    "Seriously..." Another groan later, he took a seat next to Cory, waving quietly to Joe. "Don't mind her mumbling. She's lonely because there haven't been many kids coming to visit for story time. Having a young face just makes you a target." He heard her whine but ignored it. "Man, what was she thinking, getting a bourbon? She can handle her liquor, but she's never been good with that stuff..."

    Cory laughed. "You've always been such a worry wart, Stitch. Loosen up!" She ruffled his hair, the smell of the alcohol on her breath leaving him to look away.

    "Can I get a glass of water for her and a whiskey for me? It's gonna take more than one to deal with her like this..."

    "Hey, bourbon buddy. Ain't this kid a riot? He thinks he's an adult!"

    "That's because I am." He sighed, looking at Joe. "Please save me. I almost wanna just leave her here at this rate until she sobers up."
    "I don't know what words I can say
    The wind has a way to talk to me
    Flowers sleep, a silent lullaby
    I pray for reply
    I'm ready"
    -Melfina's Song

  5. #15
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    (I'll just be rocking the one character. Lol, y'all are ambitious. I luv it.)

    Once the old pirate returned her caster to its rightful home, Isabel straightened herself up, regaining some composure.
    She absorbed his words with a reverent seriousness and was slow to look away as his disappeared into the black velvet outside.
    But the lanky newcomer arrived as an oddity all his own, and so Isabel eyed him with suspicion as he took his place next to the older woman.
    "He may be an adult yet, seems responsible enough. So, he your kid or sumthin'?"

    Peering over her shoulder, Isabel spied that the young bartender was lost somewhere inside his own mind.
    "And you! Focus!" She hold up her empty glass. "Can't afford to let me fall prey to sobriety either now can we?"
    Isabel took a moment to knead her temples, shutting her eyes tight to fight off the resurfacing memory she's been reluctant to entertain.
    "Besides my fine looking young friend, I need information out of you yet." Isabel muttered out. "I'm looking for somebody."
    "Believe in yourself and create your own destiny. Don't fear fate." - Narrator
    avatar by: beautifulhangoverx


    Anime-Planet.com - anime | manga | reviews


    This was a good idea Mantis.

  6. #16
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    "Brother, albeit adopted." The man mused, smiling faintly. In his mind, he was mocking his very words- he was thankful to some degree that he'd been adopted, but couldn't imagine having to live with the woman's blood in his body- or any remnants of it, anyway. At the same time, he was adopted by her, not her parents...So wasn't the stranger right on the money? She'd kill me if I agreed, though.

    The older woman let out a sigh, looking at Isabel with far more interest than her 'brother' ever would get while she was in any drunken state. "Anyone in particular? If it's a kid or a person with a kid, I ought to know them. And if it isn't, Stitch here might be able to find something."

    "It's rare you even talk to someone without a kid. Must be the alcohol." Stitch grumbled. "Er...As she stated, I'm Stitch. She's too blacked out already to introduce herself properly, I bet. Just call her Cory and she'll be happy."
    "I don't know what words I can say
    The wind has a way to talk to me
    Flowers sleep, a silent lullaby
    I pray for reply
    I'm ready"
    -Melfina's Song

  7. #17
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    The young bar assistant nodded, acknowledging the elder woman’s words of wisdom, but not quite convinced that this was the end of the matter. Clyde’s Bar received a lot of visitors, afterall, and with visitors come stories. Sinister cults who scoffed at the use of Casters, deeming them a bastardization of their sacred Tao practices-- a hatred made even deeper knowing the fate of their former master, both for the wizards that crafted them and the adventurers who wielded them. Perhaps it would be wise to heed the old man’s warning, though he feared for the female adventurer before him more than anyone else.

    The young man turned away from his company for a moment, lost in thought once again. He reached underneath the collar of his shirt, his hand grasping an old shell on the end of a cord necklace that his father had left to him many years ago. Like them, his father was also a Caster. He could only ponder on what could have become of him at such a time.

    He snapped to attention, also noticing the young man who had just barged into the room, his uniquely coloured hair in particular. Red hair… a colour that was not seen very often, on Sentinel least of all. His mind wandered onto the red-haired outlaw from the stories once again. Joe waved back at the youth, laughing along awkwardly as though afraid to offend the older woman next to him. He nodded. “Two more whiskeys and a glass of water, coming up!” It seemed that he was becoming more confident around his newfound company.

    Placing the drinks onto the counter, he noticed the agitated look on the female adventurer’s face, which only left him wondering about her even more, what she was doing on Sentinel of all places. He initially gulped at her request, but as a bartender, you naturally get to know a lot of different folks. He dared not refuse. “I might be able to help.” he said quietly, leaning in closer. “Who’re you looking for?"

  8. #18
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    "Adopted, huh..." A darkness creeps over Isabel's eyes, a specter she quickly shakes off, hitting up her drink for another taste.
    "Stitch. Cory." she affirmed, giving each a polite nod in turn. "The name's Isabel. Call me Izzy and I'll correct you." She cracks a knuckle for emphasis.
    "Got it boyo?" Isabell gives Stitch a playful wink and punch on the arm. "You two make a right... odd family pair. I like it."

    The teal-haired adventurer toasts again, each gulp goes down easier than the last. "But I have to ask, what's the fascination with kids about?"
    Isabel leans back, narrowing her gaze to peer at the pair through wiser, more knowing slits, tapping her chin whilst she ponders.
    She studies Cory a moment longer... "I'm guessing orphanage." Isabel hypothesizes.

    She perks up at the drink peddler's voice, Isabel liked the confidence building inside the young man. Best toy with it.
    She meets his lean over the bar getting quite close again. "I'm looking for a Ctarl-Ctarl: big guy, bad temper..."
    "Fancy dresser..." She jabs at his chest and tie with a playful index finger. "Much like yourself, 'cept not as classy. Has a whole..."
    Isabel pulls back, waving her hand about, searching for the right words, "Frilly thing goin' on."
    "Calls himself an outlaw, but he'll answer to asshole." Her eyes dart back to Cory and Stitch.

    "Seen anybody fitting that bill?" Isabel indulges in another long take of sweet poison.
    "Believe in yourself and create your own destiny. Don't fear fate." - Narrator
    avatar by: beautifulhangoverx


    Anime-Planet.com - anime | manga | reviews


    This was a good idea Mantis.

  9. #19
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    (I totally forgot red hair was uncommon because I just shoved Stitch in the way I'd made him, which was a mild red-head. Oh well. Stitch's mystery continues xD)

    "She likes kids because she likes kids. I don't get the obsession part, but...She is good with them, at least. That's why she's often sitting them and teaching." He laughed nervously, as the woman had made sure to lightly punch his arm- it was strong enough to make him timid, even if he wasn't that weak. Just weak enough. "Isabel. I'll remember that. A lovely lady deserves such a lovely name, anyway."

    Cory choked on her water as she listened. "Laying on the sauce, are ya Stitch? Didn't know she was your type. If I'd known I'd have mentioned you before you came."

    "You know that's not my point." A deep sigh and a swig of liquid helped him push off what was implied. He eyed the bartender, adding, "She's got a good eye though. This guy's got class. Looks like a host- a shy host. Must get a lot of ladies himself." He tried to remember any burly figures he'd seen, ctarl-ctarl or not. Sure, he'd seen some bad tempers. But...What made someone 'frilly' anyway? "I don't get the frilly part, but I saw a nice big fight a few streets down. Too many big guys brawling to tell who was who, though. That area's a bit of a mess. Don't think I saw a Ctarl-Ctarl, but if he likes a fight, he might've been there. What d'you think, Clyde? Mister..."

    He looked at the bartender that'd helped them again. "Sorry, I missed your name."
    "I don't know what words I can say
    The wind has a way to talk to me
    Flowers sleep, a silent lullaby
    I pray for reply
    I'm ready"
    -Melfina's Song

  10. #20
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    One half to keep, one half to the glory of the Empire--that was the deal. Bounties as chumpy as 500 wong though weren't going to make the cut for more than just a paycheck. Seth had hit all the major bars in Locus save for one, and nothing but a bounty for a hoodlum that had neglected to pay their local mafia was floating around; worse, working on behalf of Mafia wasn't going to net him glory for his kind. With only one bar left to check before moving on to the next town, the Ctarl-Ctarl heaved a lazy sigh.

    "Ain't nothing worth fighting these days," he muttered to himself.

    He took a look around the sparsely inhabited streets, idly gazing at the occasional street lamp. Back in the military, he'd probably be doing something equally uneventful out on patrol, which was one of the many reasons he ducked out of service in the first place. There was no recognition to be had except through being at the right place at the right time making the right calls which just wasn't his style. He preferred to seek out recognition rather than wait for it to come to him, if at all.

    Looking from afar, no one would take him for a bounty hunter or anything short of a civilian; he looked innocuous at his early 20s, especially given his laid back appearance wearing a brown bomber jacket over everyday clothing. He brushed aside his messy white hair as a few strands waved in front of his preoccupied eyes. A vibrating device in his pocket signaled someone was trying to reach him, but he didn't feel like answering as it was most likely a telemarketer that had 'appropriated' his number from another business. "This is Mister Ctarl, leave a message." Of course he had a last name, but he preferred the mysterious front anonymity brought rather than outright saying his last name was Terara. The vibration reminded him of how much the shoulder holster for his .44 revolver was uncomfortable beneath his jacket; an unbecoming weapon for a Ctarl-Ctarl, but when it came to fighting, having no ranged capability for the sake of pride was just stupid. In any case, he only kept six rounds on him as it was a niche weapon for him, and if he had to use more than a full cylinder, well then he needed more help than any amount of ammunition was going to afford him.

    The sounds of a nearby street fight passed him by, but such events were beneath him; a bunch of hooligan gorillas beating their chests to see who was better and/or right about something.
    ---
    [tl;dr checkpoint]

    He stopped in front of the bar that had become a land mark for one of its visiting patrons, wondering what in God of Ctarl's name made a place special just because a celebrity occasionally went there, and in the past at that. He swung his body around to face the entrance, lightly sighing at the prospect of another fruitless pit stop before striding through the western-styled swing doors.

    The noise level was tolerable for his sensitive ears--a relief and a change from the other bars that were packed in on a regular basis. Easy going music permeated the background behind the typical bar banter, keeping behaviors more amiable than they otherwise would be in a space that had no mood. Today's crew seemed a bit more jovial that the sort he expected regularly; however, they certainly weren't the first occurrence. That said, he did take note of the peculiar fire arms a few of the patrons were touting about. He knew what they were referring to, but didn't have the mind to care; hot stories made for many copycats to follow.

    As he approached the bar, he took note that the attendants were busy at the moment and so waited it out, a nonchalant discretion about him as he leaned in on the bar with one hand. It wasn't until his ears picked out a word of interest that he deigned to move, made all the more distinct by the fact that it was whispered nearby. Had it been bustling with yelling and usual bar banter, he might not have picked it up, but thanks to his naturally keen hearing and lack of masking background noise, it was immediately apparent that something was afoot that either involved him or another of his kind--both were worth prying further about.

    He turned his head in the appropriate direction, sizing up the patrons he had eavesdropped on. A teal haired youngn' and some old bag with a red head in tow. There was a pause as he collected the rest of the conversation follow up promptly before he walked around to the side and interrupted the conversation in a two-way fashion.

    "Hello~" He greeted in the most audacious manner possible. "Are you talking about whats-his-face? You'll find he frequents the casino in Nebula city. I know every Ctarl-Ctarl on the planet, or at least have seen their face," he pulled back a moment pensively, "Unless they're the type to recluse in the boonies like a hermit." A confident, lazy grin plastered his face, seemingly unconcerned with how he got along conversationally--he didn't care much for subtlety or nuanced social protocol. "Hey dough boy, fetch me the latest bounty flyers if there are any, will ya'?" He shot at the young attendant with a charming and confident jeer.

    Knowing every Ctarl-Ctarl on the planet was an exaggeration of course, but by and large, he knew most; it wasn't difficult as 90 to 95-percentish of the population was human anyway. That said, not many people went out of their way to be aware of the comings and goings of Ctarl-Ctarls either. Staying out of trouble with the Empire demanded he be aware of it at any rate.
    Outlaw Star RPG

    Current translation work: Manga.

    Translated OLS manga # pages (As of: 5/14)
    Volume 2: 29
    Volume 3: 40

    Started back up with translating the Manga

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