Thursday, 12 January 2012

A quiet night at the bar.

So I was hanging out at a little known dive bar called O'briens. The O is an operator symbol. See the bar was created to look like a haven for runners. Of course the owner is a slenderproxy and the staff and most of the other customers are various other proxy types. Although I don't remember ever seeing another nest in here. Most runners undoubtedly see through the ruse but occasionally one or two fall for it. So anyways I was there without my mask of course. Don't want to be conspicuous I did have a mask though of course. Just not my normal one. It was a simple facemask this time. That's not important though. There were two people in the bar today aside from me and the normal proxy customers. Two foolish runners who had fallen into the trap I naturally assumed. The weird part though is that they were talking about the other people in the bar. The word proxies was said quite a bit. It didn't take long for me to realize that they were well aware of where they were and what was going on. Of course no one else was aware of their conversation. They were all listening of course but these runners were very quiet. I could listen because I have very good hearing. I guess you could say I have ears like a bird. That joke was pathetic. Anyways... so I'll admit this was a little unnerving. Something deceitful was going on and for once we weren't the ones responsible. I slipped out a side door into an alley. I heard one of them refer to the guy with the mask as I left I don't think they knew who I was or what I was which was good. A few minutes after I left there was shouting and gunfire from inside then the unmistakeable smell of something burning. I waited outside. I shouldn't have but I was curious as to what would happen next. The bar was burning the screaming was undoubtedly not coming from the runners. It seemed it wasn't going well for "our side". There seemed to be more inside than there were originally as well. As I puzzled out what had happened the door opened and two men came out one with a bat the other with what looked like a Rapier. I was a little impressed. It's not often you see someone in real life wielding a rapier as their favored weapon. I wondered where he got it. They advanced on me and I took out my weapon. A machete. I'm a murderer with a mask as far as I'm concerned having a machete is tradition. The one with the bat charged and swung wildly at my face. I let him hit and casually jabbed my machete into his stomach at the same time. I'm not very protective of my face that was his mistake. He was bleeding on the ground and the other one began backing away. Not fearfully merely as if he wanted a running start. I wasn't going to give him the time to do whatever he planned. I raised my empty hand and took off my mask. The birds made short work of him. Now as for the bar it seemed this had been a planned out attack. The two runners had been in there merely to find out how many of us were in there and possibly identify types. Then a second larger group had come in with guns and attacked. I'm not entirely sure whether they had meant to light the bar on fire. I am certain they had not intended it to light while they were still fighting though. The bar is gone and aside from the two I killed it seems that our side hadn't done very well. Oh well the bar had never been all that effective anyways. This planned attack by a group is a little worrisome though.

4 comments:

  1. A crude but effective assault. I notice they didn't pay attention to my arguments against guns though. Come on people, it's not like we have a Runner legal defense fund going.

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  2. I'll be sure to point them towards your blog before I kill them.

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  3. How appropriate, he went at the piñata with a bat.

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  4. -grins- You let your birdies attack him AND you have an eye for the traditions. Oh, you. I have an eye on you, you fantastically magnificent bastard.

    oh hey, I did a pun AND used a trope.

    I'm just on a roll today. Hope to see you soon..

    Or actually, no. I hope I never have a reason to see you or your birdies. No offense, but I like living.

    It's bad enough the bastards camp in the trees outside my house and watch me like I'M the evil one. Stupid birds. Stupid feathers. Cleaning them up is SUCH A PAIN IN THE ASS.

    Anyway, I'll stop ranting now. Toodle-oo~

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