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Dangerous Codger

The Firebrand Bar And Grill

"A little slice of home no matter how far away you are."


While here please adhere to the rules of common decency and the Anti-Munch Project. Thanks in advance!

The Anti-Munch Project
Here's the (unfinished) list of what we're against:
The people who never miss a single shot no matter how hard it is (Aimbotters).
The people who can't be hit or just shrug it off (god-moders).
The people who never are without a weapon and ammo (idkfa-ers).
The people who have absurdly strong powers (twinks).
The people who 'balance' thier characters by having a massive but irrelevant weakness and massive powers (min-maxers).
The people who use Out Of Character knowledge to get an edge (Miss Cleos).
The people who do things in hindsight (McFlys).
The people who RP other people's characters for them (Puppetmasters).
The people who RP completely irrelevant things (Daydreamers).
The people who RP actions and time against others while the others aren't presant (Shoe elves).
The people who ignore or alter RPs that they don't like (Revisionists).
The people who RP an absurdly time consuming sequence occuring between other people's actions (Speedhackers).
The people who play as characters that are completely impossible (Oxymorons).
The people who arbitrarily declare themselves the winner with instant death attacks (Baghdad Bobbits).
The people who've taken actions before they start RPing (Gaseous Snakes).
The people who pull-in elements that were approved in an unrelated RP (Augustines).
The people who use an existing persona and only RP them when it helps (Batmen).
The people who alter thier character as needed for the situation (Zoicite).
The people who gain abilities as they need them with no prior exposure (Trinities).

In these examples, A will be our Good RPer and B will be our Nasty Filthy Munchkin.

Aimbotters: Especially annoying when using NPCs, as NPCs don't get to argue about munch...
A: Three hundred seventy of my trained assassin gymnasts crest the hill, sight you, and rush toward you.
B: Luckily, I have three hundred sixty-nine bullets in my chain gun! I quickly mow them all down, each taking a single bullet to the head, and peg the last one with a rock in the sternum.

Godmoders: Obvious.
A: Now that you're strapped to the end of a naval cannon, I fire it.
B: Whoosh! I nimbly dodge, somehow forgetting the fact that I'm restrained by three-hundred-pound chain!

IDKFA-ers: Most likely people attempting to emulate Solid Snake or some other cheesy spy-novel hero.
A: You're all out of ammo for all five of your Ingram submachine guns, 501!|). Since you're buck-naked, I know I can now safely step into the open and begin returning fire.
B: Ha! Little did you know, I have twelve shuriken hidden within my pubic hair!

Min-maxers
A: I've successfully broken into the facility which gave you your incredibly 1337 power armor. Now I pull up the file on it. What does it say about weak points?
B: The metal of my armor is... um... allergic to praying mantis urine.

Miss Cleos: Obvious.
A: ((OOC: There's a secret switch hidden in the lamp.))
B: I suddenly think to myself-- why not check the lamp for hidden switches? Call me now for your free reading!

McFlys
A: Ha! Now that the force field is down, I run inside your evil lair!
B: Um... um... there's also a super-secret second force field which causes you to die instantly! I just didn't say anything about it because... um... I had to do my laundry! Not because I just thought of it now! Honestly!

Puppetmasters
A: I step carefully into the room, peering around for occupants.
B: Suddenly a dragon pokes you in the eye. You run screaming from the room, whereafter you go home, make a pickle sandwich, and call your mother to cry about how she ruined your life.

Daydreamers: Not exactly munch, per se, but it does get annoying.
A: In the middle of the intense shootout, I dash across the narrow alley, ducking and weaving in hopes to avoid getting hit. I'm unsuccessful; two bullets peg me in the shoulder, throwing me back into a Dumpster.
B: The bullets make me think back to my days as a youth, when I had to melt down tin soldiers to use as musket balls against the Redcoats... or was it redskins? I can't remember. Anyway, I had to walk uphill all three ways to school and back, running from glaciers all the while. It was torture, lemme tell ya. And then there's the story of how I met my first wife...

Shoe elves: Pretty obvious.
A: ((OOC: Well, gotta go to bed. Big neurosurgery test tomorrow.))
B: Ho, ho, ho! Now that the loser's gone to bed, I can strap his character to a cross and peg him with rotten fruit!

Revisionists
A: You chose the blue pill? Ooh, tough luck.
B: Red! I said red! Don't go pulling that "I can read your previous post" mind game crap, either!

Speedhackers
A: I walk to the door and step outside.
B: Suddenly, twelve men grab you, carry you off to my secret lair in Tibet, and torture you for weeks. When you finally die from the agony, we bury you in the frozen wastes. Hundreds of years later, arhcaeologists discover your frozen body and try to determine if you're another Lucy.

Oxymorons
A: I'm a farmer with a shotgun.
B: I'm a black hole which emits blinding pulses of visible light!

Gaseous Snakes: An advanced (or is that "dumb"?) form of McFlys.
A: I walk to the door and open it.
B: Being a fellow with a bit of foresight, I hooked that doorknob to a car battery an hour ago. You're thrown across the room.

Augustines
A: Given that this RP's technology base is midieval, I happily drive my cart to the market to buy some maggot-ridden meat.
B: Too late! I already got there in my Gundam and blew up everything with my insanely overpowered weapons! And don't start whining, because my Gundam's already pre-approved in the "This Is Not a Midieval Technology Base RP" thread.

Batmen
A: In this Fantastic Four RP, I'll be Ben, the gruff rock-man with a heart of gold.
B: I'll be Reed Richards, the living sex toy who hunts down innocent women to subdue with his incredible flexibility!


On the edge of Gambino, far from the casinos, the weapons shops, the markets, and the stores, there sits a small bar and grill. Having seen many reincarnations in it's time, what was once the Montage has now fallen under new management.

The quaint little two-story bar, made of stone on the outside, is built on a beach - betraying the sandy ground with deep-running struts to make sure that even powerful waves and winds won't carry it out to sea, it's also partially built straight into the stone wall behind it to add to it's mystique, although there is also a fair-sized grassy area in the back as well. The sign swaying in the wind just above the porch reads "The Firebrand Bar and Grill."

The interior is well-decorated, your average bar with several windows letting sunlight stream in, wooden tables and chairs, and a fully-stocked bar. There are also stairs leading to a second floor, a door to the kitchen, and a secret passageway in the back that seems to lead to a small fighting pit for training or otherwise.

The second floor contains many rooms for weary travelers - eight total. The owner, Rage, doesn't really seem to mind who uses them, just asks that you make sure nobody's preoccupying one before you move in....

There's also a roof access, used to... um... access the roof.

Lately a team of (NPC) dwarfs have appeared to offer services to the many customers that come through. Feel free to use them as you wish, as they are skilled at bar tending, cooking, and general maintenance and service.

Dangerous Codger

"Now this is what I call one HELL of a headache," rumbled a fairly deep, resonating voice from the corner of what was once the bar. What few clothes he did have on (consisting of the scraps of a shirt and some very battered jeans) offered little shelter from the cold. Rotating his shoulders on occasion and rubbing his sore arms, the figure rolled onto his back and looked at what was left of the cieling above him.

It was peaceful, serene, quiet... waves rolling gently up the shoreline towards the building. Since there was nobody around, he felt like he could say the first thing that came to mind...

"Where am I...?"
A small woman walked along the beach, her messy auburn hair trailing down her back. Her right hand clasped the hand of a child, no more than seven years old, with fluffy white hair and bottomless blue eyes. Her other hand wasn't there. Nor was the rest of her left arm. The limb appeared to have been cut off at the shoulder, the flesh sealing behind it. It almost looked like there'd never been an arm there at all.

On the remains of her shoulder, a dragon made of glittering emeralds perched.

Owle had come here, hoping to find the Firebrand intact, even though she knew that Rage had died. She was hoping the new owner would take pity on her and let her and the child stay, working for their keep if need be. Or better yet, that some of her old friends would be here...she hadn't wanted to face them, hadn't wanted to return to the Firebrand, not after what Morgan had done to her...it would have been too painful, too soon. But now that she had been forced out of Washu's, this was the only place left for her to turn. Now it, too, was ruined. Owle was about to turn away, when she heard a deep voice from the ruins.

"Now this is what I call one HELL of a headache."

"Rage?" she called out. She knew it couldn't be him...he was dead. But the voice sounded so familiar... "Rage!" She ran to where the voice was coming from, half expecting to find a stranger there. An apology was already on her lips, to say she was sorry for mistaking him for a friend...

Actually seeing his face stunned her to silence.

It was the child at her side that broke the stillness, pointing at Rage's chest with his free hand. "What?" he demanded to know loudly.

Dangerous Codger

By the time Owle had reached him, Rage had seemed to scavange around what was left of the old place, now snoozing quietly in a pair of slightly less destroyed jeans and an old bomber jacket that looked like it had seen better days... much better days....

The man looked slightly younger than how Owle might have first recognized him - only about nineteen years old, and far less scarred. Curled up in a corner like any animal looking for warmth, he looked more serene, unburdened... peaceful. There was even a small smile on his face as he slept. But it was the child that woke him up from his slumber. "... called me that for years," he said with a drowsy start, pushing shaggy green hair out of his nearly black eyes. "And here I was hoping that this was some horrible dream that I'd be waking up from," he sighed, getting up into a crouch and scratching behind his ear. "Better pinch myself and make sure this isn't one either." He missed pinching his own arm by several inches, and after the fourth try, gave up completely. "Aww hell, I'm sure I'm awake now... I think."

It took several moments for it to register that the voices he was hearing in his dreams were real, and that the sources were standing in front of him. His head tilted to one side ever so slightly. "Why is it all the cute ones have kids...."
"EH?!" Owle's eyes went wide, and she had to force herself to hold her ground instead of backpedaling several paces away. This...what? Rage had never...he'd never...he was in love with Elvi, he'd never so much as complimented Owle on her appearance, much less called her cute in a way that implied...

Maybe this wasn't Rage. He looked younger, different...and all his family members looked alike. The mind sig seemed slightly different, too...Of Rage's family, Owle had only met Axel, and Rage's father...this man was neither of those. He seemed younger than Rage, but older than Axel.

"Oh, he's not mine," she said, trying to gesture to the child but finding she lacked a free arm to do it. "I mean...he doesn't have a father or mother, that I know of. I found him, and I've got to take care of him."

The child tugged on her hand, trying to drag her down closer to him and get her attention. She obviously hadn't heard his question. As she turned to look at him, he point to Rage again and repeated, "What?"

Owle sighed. "No, Rand, 'what' is for things. If you want to know the name of a person, you say 'who.' "

Rand looked confused for a moment, then pointed at Rage again, a little less decisively this time. "Who?"

Owle released the hand she'd been holding in order to take the hand that was now pointing. Closing her fist over it, she gently moved it back to the child's side. "It's rude to point at people."

Rand seemed to be immensely frustrated at this, stomping his little feet, his nostrils flaring, face reddening as though he was about to throw a tantrum. "WHO?" he shouted.

((I mention the mind sig being different, cause having two years of memories sealed off would probably have made a difference.))
*Jinnkonn innocently strolls by.... just watching the dilema unroll itself... then runs to a near by pay phone...dials....then hangs up.... and soon you see a bunch of strange looking characters run past rage and company screaming..its happend... its finally happend!
As a lot of strange people went running by, Rand seemed to get over his curiousity about Rage, redirecting it toward the weird mass of people running by. He pointed at the weird people, and asked "What?"

Once again, Owle took his hand to keep him from pointing. "No, people. You say 'who.' And don't point."

The little angel boy furrowed his brow, looked up at his mother, and asked, "Who?"

Owle just shook her head. "I have no idea."

Dangerous Codger

((Yeah... basically. It'll be easier to explain it through the character, of course.))

"Oh good, you're single, then..." said Rage with a clear, broad grin. "And it's a good thing that brat isn't your kid, either," he added under his breath. Stretching out his limbs a bit as he stood, he started to practice some shadow boxing despite the fact that the others were still standing right in front of him. "Hey, what's your name, anyways, cutie? I heard you calling out for me earlier... or maybe I was dreaming it, but you can call me Rage," He said with the same broad grin as he took off his jacket and three katana, setting them off to the side. The fact that he was in an unknown place with unknown people didn't seem to phase him a bit.

As he did so, he semed to confirm what Owle might have thought earlier - Rage was a bit less bulky, not quite as muscular, but because of this his movements seemed faster than normal. He looked more energetic than usual, too, bouncing around as he threw a few punches at the air now and then. He kept grinning at Owle, too. It was obvious that his personality was much more carefree than when Owle had first met him - in fact, he didn't even seem to notice Owle's arm... or lack thereof. He was obviously waiting for an answer, though.
"I didn't realise this place had been so badly damaged..." Whispered the redhead, leaning on his futuristic rifle, and peering into the bowels of the burnt out bar.
No information on how or why it was destroyed. Owner is dead, clientele has either left Gaia or moved to other cities... What do you see? Asked the Voice, that ethereal presence that had accompanied him on many a mission.
"Two, maybe three hotspots. Humanoid. One's definitely in a state of hypertension. Heartrate is really high,"
Confirmed. Alright. You're off-duty for a few hours. We'll get back to you when we have more info on this area,
"Thank you, Voice," He whispered, before standing and dumping the rifle in the bushes beside his hiding spot.

World... Meet Cody.
The smell of ash and scorched earth filled Cody's heightened senses, the closer he got, the stronger the smell.

He looked down, picking his way through the damage, careful not to step on any wooden surfaces - nails melted into sharp points in fires...

He looked about, exploring the skeletal remains of the bar with the eye of the wondrous child...

Not even Razor is this badly damaged... Thought the GI, staring at the remains of a framed picture, burnt, melted, depressingly warped...
((Cothiniel, for now I'm going to assume that you aren't somewhere where any of my characters can see you. Correct me if I'm wrong. I hope you're planning on coming back...you seem like an interesting guy to RP with.))

Owle just stood staring at him for a long time, watching his movements, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that he'd just given his name as Rage, or that no one else she knew had three katanas like that. Rand took advantage of her innattention to start wandering about the ruins of the bar, stumbling wherever he pleased. The dragon that accompanied Owle took off after the boy; after all, there were too many sharp things around to leave him unattended.

"Owle..." she answered finally, still looking like she had seen a ghost. "I...you...um...I had a friend named Rage...he looked a lot like you...the two of you could be twins, or brothers, or something. But...he's dead...so...I...you're not him. Right?"

She asked it almost pleadingly, like she was begging him to answer in a certain way. Which answer she wanted to hear, though...well, Owle herself couldn't have told him that.

Dangerous Codger

The man stopped for a few moments to brush off some pesky ash that had refused to leave his shoulder. Then, in a mocking move, he felt his arms, abs, and chest. What he said wasn't a mockery at all, however. "Do I look dead to you?" After this, he went back to his shadow boxing for a few moments before deciding to cut it off there. Now he started to practice kicks, fighting with an unknown, unseen,and immortal enemy. "I don't have any brothers, besides my younger one, Axel... and he sure as hell isn't my twin. He backflipped into a handstand, then carefully balanced on his left hand. "What's with all the questions, anyways?"
"I didn't say you were," Owle said quietly, looking away from him, down at a piece of rubble. Absently, she wondered what it had been when the place was still standing...and what had made it what it was now.

Even as she felt the wind from his kicks, she didn't look up. Instead, she just hugged herself with her one arm, as though she were suddenly cold on this balmy summer's day.

"Funny...he had a brother named Axel, too..."

She took a step backwards. It would be so easy to just keep going, to retain her sanity, to pretend she'd never met this man with Rage's face and name. He wasn't Rage. He didn't act like Rage at all. No, no, Rage was dead...

"You tell me...how the hell am I supposed to deal with this?" Owle asked, still in that quiet, painfilled tone, her eyes still riveted to the floor. She didn't dare look at him. "I...a good friend of mine, almost a brother, dies...and now I see you...you look just like him...you have a brother named Axel, just like him...next you'll tell me your mother is a telepath, just like his was...

"How am I supposed to deal with this?"

Her last words were a loud whisper that cracked somewhere in the middle. If there weren't tears in her eyes yet, from the sound of things there soon would be.
*A teenage girl, about the age of 14 walks by, as if she's looking for something she lost. Her pink glittery hair and white tiger ears((in sig)) whipped around with her head cdontinuously. Her deep green eyes seemed almost hypnotizing and were filled with mystery*

Dangerous Codger

"Don't go crying now, Brown Eyes!" Said the man, throwing his jacket back on. Was it something he said? Maybe he took his usual jokes too far on that one, or something... not knowing what else to do, he took off his jacket again and put it around Owle's shoulders. "You look cold... and you might wanna sit down, too," he added absentmindedly, taking one of the less mangled chairs from nearby and placing it near the woman.

"How do you deal with all this..." he repeated after a moment's time, sounding rather thoughtful. "Well, I guess it takes time, patience, and a good understanding of the situation. Nothing that I ever have, that's for sure...." He was obviously reaching for the right thing to say - and also failing miserably at it.

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