Bounty - Roleplay [Invite Only]

Nissa sat alone in his bar stool, sipping from a bottle of what the bar sold off to be beer. It was a thick yellow drink that held the faint smell of urine, much like the rest of the town. The town was a small dingy one on the edge of a large desert. Like most towns nowadays all you'd find open was a bar and a small weaponry. Nissa had been travelling to collect a bounty on Allocard. And he was sure he could do it. Scratching his long silver hair with his frail anorexic arms he went to take another drink, but couldn't do it.

"This place is fowl." He mumbled, when a old man, already smelling of drink came storming through the door ranting about his encounter with Allocard. Nissa was really paying attention. There had been alot of gossip around about Allocard spread around the cities he was travelling through, all started by old men. There stories seemed to lead him in circles so at this point he had given up paying attention. He sat in his stall for another long while, slowly consuming his drink. It was getting light outside and all but the towns drunkards had left.

Rubbing his overly large blue eye's, something clicked in Nissa's head.

"Fuck!" He shouted jumping up and grabbing his two weapons. The resembled a gun but had a long dagger jutting out of the bottom.

'I wonder if I can catch him?' He thought chasing after the old man.


Is this okay?

 

Arlin was sitting in the corner of the tavern, in a small booth, focusing on his piss-warm. . .piss in a glass.

"Ugh, I hate this place." He was in the middle of his own thoughs when a drunken old man came bursting through the door claiming he'd seen Allocard. ". . .and old drunks." He pulled his hat down over his eyes, and slagged back to try to relax.

Arlin was an impressive looking person. He was just over 5'9", with dark brown hair, pulled back into a ponlytail, which reached down to just below his shoulders. He had a desert hat on (think a little bigger than Indiana Jones), along with a long tan coat over his shoulders. His loose dark pants shake frantically in the wind. And his long gloved reach half to his elbow, he also preffered his heavy boots to light footwear. It made it easier to shift his weight. He had his longsword in the booth to his left.

He preferred a damascus forged long sword over guns. He was faster than your average bounty hunter.

As the old man was finishing his story, the guy he was talking to got up and just left. Arlin didn't think much of the guy at first. But the he noticed the guy up front get up and leave.

Arlin looked down at his drink. I hate alcohol. . .at least when in tasts like piss.

He waited a few minutes, then got up, strapping his sword to his waist, to trail the stranger that followed the old man.

 

A wanted poster had been caught in the updraft of the dark alley, a man had managed to clasp it in-between his index and middle finger.

“Allocard my ass,” the mysterious figure chuckled. “Looks like he’s got some good bounty on his head.” The figure grinned then scrunched up the wanted poster into his back pocket.

“That’s the last one,” he said after heaving a heavy crate against the wall and quickly dusting his hands. Grabbing a crow bar from off the moist ground he took a golf swing from above tearing the soft wood to mere toothpick fractions. This was followed by a sharp movement of clicking his neck to the left, moving his dark hair off his face.

Jacob was the name he currently went by; now covered his shirtless well built body with his long crimson jacket. He hid the intricate dragon tattoo which was wide spread across his back with his long garment.

“These guns will do fine,” He said whilst taking them out of the crate, then placed the pistols in his jacket pocket. He had now acquired three guns to join his twin dragon double edged katana.

Time to get me some bounty. He strolled out of the alley to begin his new desire.

 

A man was standing on top of a rooftop, across the street from the bar. He was listening to the regular drunks talk about random things. He heard somebody say something about Allocard. He noticed somebody walk out of the bar. That person took off a wig, and replaced it with a hat.

The man on the rooftop stood up and stretched. He stood at 5' 11" and had blue eyes. His eyes reflected the moonlight, giving them a supernatural glow. He had dirty blonde hair, almost brown colored. It reached to about his eyebrows in the front, and reached the bottom of his neck in the back. He was wearing a black trenchcoat. It was unbuttoned, opened up approx. 3 inches. Strapped to his back was a sword in it's sheath. The sword was almost 5 feet in length. The sword was made of adamantium, and would give off a faint glow. The man also had a belt that is under his trenchcoat. At his back, attatched to the belt, was a knife, approx. 2 feet in length. Also attatched to his belt was a small bag, filled with contents unknown to anybody except the man wearing it. Inside his trenchcoat were random weapons including (But not limited to), a 10 round revolver, bullets, poison darts, and a little black box.

The man (Zack) turned to his right, the opposite direction that Allocard was facing. He started to walk, muttering something to himself. "Can't wait to show you everything I learned. But I don't want to make things too easy." He looked like he was about to jump in the air. His body then suddenly dissapeared, like it wasn't even there.

 

Arlin went outside to follow the man leaving the tavern, then stopped just outside the entrance, feeling something cold and hard against his right temple.

"If you value your life, you'll come with me quietly"
Without moving his head, he looked to his right, but the stranger noticed, and moved his head to the left. "Look forward, I'll stay behind you, and tell you where to go."-he pressed the gun hard against his head-"And stay quiet."
"You don't have to be so rude." Arlin shrugged. "As far as I can see, you're the one who wants something from me."
"Shut up!" The stranger brought the gun back, about to hit Arlin.

Arlin tensed, gripping his sword's hilt in his right hand. He turned right, his legs spread, and drew his sword partially out, slamming the stranger's gut, forcing him to his knees.

He was about to draw the sword to kill the man. Until he saw his face. He was a gruff man, with a beard, and thick eyelashes. He had a scar over his right eye, that gave away his identity.

Durzo!

 

In the city, there was a lone tower. This tower was in ruins. It appeared as if it hadn't been inhabited in a very long time.

The top of the tower had no roof. That was destroyed, along with bits of the walls. But, in that top floor, there were windchimes decorated about the area. And there were strings strewn across the room from different angles, each one connecting to others and what appeared to be random intervals. There were pictures and pieces of papers with strange scribbles attatched to these strings. The staircase leading to the lower floors of the tower was covered up by a boulder.

The night was silent. Nothing in the top of the tower had moved. There hadn't even been a slight breeze. But then, a windchime moved a little. It made a slight noise. Then, more windchimes started to move. Zack suddenly appeared, standing on a ledge of the tower, where part of a wall should be. He walked over to the strings. He reached inside his trenchcoat, and reached behind his back. He grabbed the hilt of his knife. He pulled it out of it's sheath.

The blade was completely black. Even when held in the moonlight, it gave off no reflection. But the blade itself was extremely sharp. Sharp and blended in the darkness, the perfect assassin's knife. Zack walked over to one of the strings. On it, there was an old picture. It was him and Allocard standing side by side. "And now teacher, it is time for me to show you how I've changed since all those many years before." Zack didn't say it in a creepy way. When he spoke of Allocard, his voice was full of respect. He cut the string. All the strings fell down to the ground. "See you soon."

 

"Long time, no see kid." Durzo laughed, placing his gun back in his belt. "Didn't think I'd be finding you in a place like this!" He got back on his feet.
Durzo was a good six feet tall, if you include his thick boots. He was wearing his usual attire. A long gray coat, gray cowboy hat, with a twin magazine rifle. Excellent for rapid fire, and long range targets. . .at least when he wasn't drunk.

"Shit Durzo, I could've killed you.-I chuckled-"But at least I'd've had a brand new hat.

Durzo shrugged, showing his usual cocky grin. "Let me guess kid, you're going after that Allocard guy, right?"

"Yeah, I was considering it. Assuming I can find a good gun again. I might like this sword, but I like my guns too."

Durzo grunted, then took out the revolver he'd put to my head, and tossed it to me.

"Well, in that case, you'd better take this one. No use getting some used up piece of shit, only having it jam later."

I caught the gun. "Thanks." He looked down the road outside the tavern. "So, would I be right in assuming that you're after Allocard as well?"
Durzo nodded, "Yep. And no, I'm not going to help you and split the earnings. Damn, you young'uns are so lazy these days. Needing an old man to you your dirty work."

I laughed, letting my head roll a bit. "Who said I was asking for your help, old man? You'd just slow me down!"

Durzo slumped his shoulders, then looked at the sky. "Its getting late, I'd best head back to my workhouse. I'll see you if I see you kid."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, sure. You mean your whorehouse."

Durzo shrugged again. "Hey, someone's gotta give those lonely women some loving company." Then he turned and walked into the sunset.

How cliche.

I went back into the tavern to rent a room for the night.