Raitro

“Hubba babba!!!,”

Raitro almost shouted, as he shuddered awake. He’d been sleeping at the corner of the Pub’s counter, snoring out loud. The previous inactivity had knocked him unconscious; well, that, and the long line of beers he ordered before passing out. Some sort of tiny vibration sent across the smooth, fine-made wooden counter was what had summoned him from a the long slumber.

He brusquely turned his head to face this stranger. His eyes stared at the man with a rage accumulated from decades of bad hang overs. Being obviously grumpy, Raitro’s reaction was somewhat… rash.

“Grrrrr! AAAAGGGGGGHHH! YOU WILL PAY FOR WAKING ME UP! AAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHH NGGGHHHHNNN HAAAAAAAA!”

His roar boomed throughout the bar, shattering glasses mounted on the cup boards and stirring the air with a crazed Ki aura. The atmosphere darkened, along with the light bulbs on the ceiling that dimmed due to an apparent power surge. The saiyan’s hair now commenced flickering a faint yellow. Angered ascension to the Super Saiya-jin level seemed inevitable.


“Huh?”

The saiyan powered down completely; his attention now seized by a lovely woman that was new to the pub. She reminded Raitro of his love interest, Lucrecia. He knew he had to be loyal to the Kai, even though she did not appear to reflect the love he held for her. And yet, he could not fight the feeling-- the urge, to talk with this new lady.

His approach wasn’t nervous like that other time. This occasion, he slid -or hovered- across the wooden floor much more smoothly and flawlessly. He flashed a smile, white teeth glistening in the now restored light.

“Hey there. I can see you aren’t from around these parts. Can I help you with something?” Raitro asked in his most polite voice.

OOC: And sorry Teecee, but the Vet here has already claimed the Orange font. So find yourself another color. >=(

EDIT: Made a mistake. Changed the color. And please refrain from making OOC only posts. Just edit anything in and it'll be fine.

Teecee

OOC: I'll just use the orange font.

Eragon

Lucrecia had taken advantage of the lull; while her “lover”-stalker was closer to the fact- slept in a drunken stupor, she had retreated to the corner of the barroom with a cigarette and a glass of water, the latter of which seemed untouched. She half-slumped over her desk, the hand propped against her cheek seemingly the only thing stopping her from lying across it, and a pair of dark blue eyes scanned the pub.

There were a few newcomers, and old comers making themselves more active; well. That was most certainly a good thing… until one noticed that they seemed like drunks, half-stumbling over themselves to get into some girls’ pants. That Raitro again, for instance.

Or the shark and the almost inevitable duel between him and the bartender; called off at the last moment, of course. Which was good- violence was never the way to go, but it seemed that everyone around here used it as the first course of action.

A slight frown appeared on her dull expression, the kai exhaled a breath of smoke.

‘This world is…’
‘Boring…!!’

OOC: Sorry for… crap quality…

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Island of 1,000 Condiments

OoC - Just tell Raitro to shut the fuck up.

---

His swaying movements caused a small rattle. Beads dangling from his uniform clanked against one another as he stepped along the splintering, wooden floor of Kami’s Pub. He appeared to be nothing more than a hunched, elderly man passing through. His figure was scrawny, and the sage was hunched over to the point that he stood at only 4’11” / 1.5m. The shaman’s physical features couldn’t be described. He was sheltered within a blanket-like cloth. This cloth was worn by age and stained a filthy shade of brown. There were patches and stitches, and one could barely see unknown markings along the trim, although they have long since faded. The hook that was nestled over his massive cranium went over all put his eyes. Those piercing eyes illuminated the shadows of his face, and they seemed to be nothing more than two candles burning brightly in the abyss. Lastly, the ancient leaned over a staff that kept his balance. One would assume it was wooden, but it was bandaged up, even the spherical object that rested at the uppermost point. Without a word, the unknown entity climbed himself into a bar stool and simply sat. His staff was rested beside him, and he observed what this small pub had to offer.

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Ranny

"I can take care of myself. I'm a big girl, don't you worry." Alodie said lightly, trying to figure out a way to break down the total robot before her.

"Deo, huh? That's a god-like name. Do you have any powers to go along with that name, Deo?" She asked with a smirk, casual conversation wasn't necessarily her forte, but she could get by, because obviously this guy wasn't normal. She was basically shoving it at him, and still got nothing. She was more than confused.

The promiscuous woman's eyes narrowed on the man before her. The alcohol seemed to be having no affect on him at all. Then her plan wouldn't work. A frown pulled at the edges of her mouth as she sat there, perplexed, her eyes darting from the odd Shark man, back to her "victim", and then to a drunken man who wobbled over by her. When he spoke, the strong scent of alcohol came at her in a cloud, and she winced lightly, raising her eyebrow.

"I'm quite alright, thank you. Though if you wouldn't mind covering me drinks, I would greatly appreciate it." Alodie said slyly, winking at the new man before leaning back against the bar-- only to find that the man that she had glanced a seat away, had broken the countertop with an immensely large arm. Blinking rapidly the woman leaned over and looked down at the familiar man.

"Are you alright there?" Alodie joked, before turning to her first man. "Does he do this often?" She asked, trying to flirt, do anything. She had to get this guys money.

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Nikushimi

A short time later, the door to the bar eased open. Yet another strange man- this one somewhat familiar -stepped into the room and made a beeline for the counter. Or, perhaps more appropriately, that was the direction in which he forced his weary-looking body. Indeed, this fellow was not at all like the last, and bore signs of severe fatigue. Yet there was indeed some recognizeable facet about him. Something about that raven-colored hair...something about those ruby-red eyes- piercing eyes that one could never forget in their lifetime... When he finally reached the bar, he took a seat on the stool beside Alodie, and for a moment, his eyes cast a prodding glance over the hand-shaped depression in the wood. For a second, he almost though he could make out the impression of a ring on the left-middle finger...

"Hey, buddy, can I get'cha somethin'?" the bartender asked him, drawing up a deadened gaze from a sickly-looking man, "...'T'sa matter, buddy? Can't'cha talk? Ya feelin' a'right?"

"...I'm fine." he finally replied, his voice carrying a surprisingly-commanding tone, "Tea, please. And some natto, if you have any."

The bartender stared at him for a moment, shrugged, and then went away to take care of the order. Uchiha Itachi kept his eyes fixed on the broken countertop before him, too exhausted to think, but feeling an instinctual nostalgia in spite of that. Just looking at it reminded him of someone. He couldn't quite place it, but...it was definitely someone. In the meantime, the bartender shot him secret glances now and then, trying to get the tea ready all the while. The barkeeper, too, felt some sort of nostalgia, but instead it was towards Itachi himself. He could have sworn he had seen that face somewhere recently. All at once, it hit him like a ton of bricks, and the teapot shattered in the iron grip of his left hand.

"You!"

Itachi looked up, mildly startled, but despondant nonetheless. The bartender approached him in strides and leaned across the countertop, taking a good look at his face one more time.

"...You're that guy!"

"Hm? Is something wrong?" he inquired, feeling a little bit violated by this unforseen examination.

"No, no, nothing at all." the bartender replied, leaning back a little bit to give him some space, "Some fella was here earlier lookin' for ya. Big guy. You know, REALLY big, like my size."

The Uchiha raised an eyebrow. For the first time in a long while, he was genuinely surprised. Who could possibly be looking for him here?

"What can you tell me about this man? Were there any distinguishing features about him?"

The bartender gave a sigh and stood up straight, staring to the ceiling and scratching his coarse chin as he tried to recall as much as he could. Luckily for him, it wasn't very difficult.

"Boy, I'll say. He had this big ol' sword- biggest sword I've ever seen, only it was thick, and I mean edge-wise -and really sharp teeth. He looked like he was wearin' this in'narestin' shower curtain with clouds on it, and get this: He was blue, I swear to Christ, he was freaking blue!"

Itachi's reaction came in three stages: first, nothing. Then, denial. Finally, his eyelids stretched far apart and he rose from his seat, a look of restlessness on his face.

"How long ago was he here?"

-----

-Clang-

-Clang-

-Shk-

Samehada rolled through the air as Kisame skidded back on his two feet across the dirt road, his right hand cupped over a bleeding gash in his left shoulder. In spite of his injury, a defiant grin remained etched into his hard face, and his murderous eyes stayed fixed on the object of their hunger. All around him were small buildings, part of an town on the outskirts of West City. The population had disappeared before he had even arrived, and up until this point, he had wondered why.

"You still gonna fight me? Ha. You're just as persistant as the last time. Too bad Itachi's not here to save you, huh?"

A pair of black sandals shuffled to a halt about twelve feet from the shark-man, and as one heightened their gaze, they would see black pants leading up to a brown leather vest. Beneath the vest was a long-sleeve, jet-black leather jacket; both were open to reveal a bare chest, packed with muscle. It was a man, neither short nor tall in stature. His hair was a piercing red, and his eyes glowed white with a supernatural energy. Around him stood various creatures made of a similar white energy, faceless and featureless, defined only vaguely by a loosely-distinguishable shape. They wielded scimitar-like weapons marked with black runes, and they howled as they advanced slowly towards their prey.

"I thought I recognized you. You're that worthless piece of trash that tried to kill Itachi-san twice."

The red-haired man gave a chuckle, then raised his right hand into the air.

"Well, that's too bad..." he said, snapping his fingers.

The white creatures gave another ghostly howl before charging in unison towards Kisame. With a look of determination, the blue Akatsuki called forth Samehada, grabbing it and instantly cutting down the creatures. They turned to a white vapor and dissipated when he cut them.

"You'll need to do better than that!" he growled, charging forward with Samehada poised to slash.

"Trash." the man muttered, forming ten more of the monsters with a wave of his left hand.

Kisame tore into the crowd. Samehada sunk its teeth into one of the creatures, only to pass through and then come to a stop against the scimitar of another one. The rest quickly used this to surround the Akatsuki, laying into him with multiple slashes, only half of which he managed to block. Despite his best efforts, he could only have Samehada in so many places at once, and soon enough, the sounds of clanging metal began to get replaced with the sounds of slicing flesh. With a furious roar, Kisame spun his blade in a massive arc, wiping out half of the creatures and leaving an opening, staring down the others as they stood in a ring around him. His arms were trembling, and blood was running down his biceps and dripping to the ground from his elbows. His uniform was cut up and stained with blood, and yet still...he did not fall.

"You think I'm done?!"

In a blur of movement, Samehada ripped out several, limb-sized chunks of white, carving through the oncoming opponents and sending their weapons flying. With all of the enemies dispatched, Kisame quickly closed the distance between himself and the red-haired man. He gripped his blade firmly, clenched his sharp teeth, and swung down.

-Clang-

Samehada shuddered as it came to an abrupt stop against a long, slender blade. Kisame pressured with both arms, pushing harder and harder, but even he could not budge his opponent. The man, two, was forced to press with both of his arms, but unlike Kisame seemed to be much more at ease.

"Oh. I didn't realize you were this strong." he mused, flinging Kisame back through the air with a sudden slash.

"Gh!"

Before Kisame could even touch down on the ground, the man was in close-range again, delivering a series of rapid strokes with his long blade. Kisame could only barely block them with the base of Samehada's blade, and each time he did the sword would bob up from the force of impact. With a final strike, Kisame was sent flipping backwards, tumbling like a ragdoll across the unpaven street until he skidded to a stop on his back. Samehada fell from his hand, landing with a scuffling sound in the dirt to his right. He winced, feeling the burning dust in his cuts, and did his best to try to sit up, but was met with a blade through his shoulder, pinning him to the ground.

"Ugh!"

The man stood over him, glaring down, smirking. As he looked up, Kisame could not deny his foe's stunning power and speed, and could only hope that such power was truly the limit of what he was capable of. This was not the type of opponent that Kisame met on a daily basis.

"In case you had forgotten, my name is 'Torque.'" he said, pushing his blade deeper, "Why don't you tell me where Itachi is now? I'd hate to have to make this messier than it needs to be."

Surprisingly, Samehada quickly flew back into Kisame's right hand, and Torque only barely managed to jump in time as a crippling slash passed beneath him. The nimble swordsman landed twenty feet away, standing at a ready position as Kisame rose back to his feet.

"What the hell are you talking about?" the sharp-toothed swordsman sneered, extending Samehada out in a challenging gesture, "The fight's just beginning. And if you want to know that information so bad, you'll have to beat me first!"

"Hmph."

Smirking, both warriors pushed off in unison. The street resonated with the sounds of their war cries, followed by a thunderous clap as their blades connected...

-----

Meanwhile, Itachi sat in disbelief, a stick of natto teetering loosely from between his lips. The bartender set down a fresh cup of tea, looking rather concerned for the poor fellow. Truth be told, he almost felt like it was his fault for telling him what had happened.

"Look, buddy, no hard feelin's, a'right? I didn't mean to-"

"It's allright." Itachi said, cutting him off calmly and as respectfully as possible, "It's nothing. I'm fine."




OOC- *waits for Island*

__________________

Island of 1,000 Condiments

OoC - Torque? The Torque? Your original RPG character, Torque?

---

Those beady eyes slowly drifted across the room. The shaman was crunched over the countertop, both hands resting at 90 degree angles. His arms were scrawny and then at the elbows came a massive increase in bulk. Whether it was muscle or armor was unknown as the entireties of both arms were bandaged up in a scarlet-stained cloth. Grasped lightly between his clothed hands was a cup of water. In it was a silver spoon. Seeing nothing of interest around the pub, the odd creature turned his focus on the metal object. The bartender noted this and approached. This man was aged and pruned, but he had high cheekbones and broad shoulders. His face may have been wrinkled and his hair may be gray, but he looked fierce. His eyes and face were expressionless, but beyond the façade of a soldier was the heart of a father - Or that’s at least what he thought. The human man leaned over against the wooden counter to meet eyes with the entity and questioned, “Anythin’ else I can do ya for today, pal?” For an old human at 60, he had a strong, powerful voice. He seemed so kind as well. The shaman was unused to such treatment for a very long time. He answered, “Very well. I’m in the mood for a West City Deluxe Burger.” His voice was ominous-sounding, yet calm. It seemed so unrealistic, as if no human tongue could stretch the syllables like he could, or no human could pitch his voice the way he did.

But suddenly something caught his attention.

“Uchiha Itachi.”

"Welcome."

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Nikushimi

OOC- I'm surprised you remember him. BTW, epic lulz @ the ominous burger order, as well as...erm...that thing in your avatar.


Itachi cleaned the last sweet cluster off of his third stick of natto, stuffing it into his cheek in a single bite and beginning a long, depressed bout of chewing. The stress was eating away at him. All of a sudden, a man turned to him out of nowhere, addressing him directly by name. The Uchiha half-choked on his food as a result.

"What?" he finally managed to gasp after small fit of coughing, "Who are you, and how do you know me?"

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Null

The door swang open as a young swordsman entered the bar. Like others who were found the establishment, he was dressed in a rather unique fashion, and his hair wasn't exactly of average style either. Yet, in this strange bar, he was a perfect fit.

Moving towards the bar, Kayin took a seat and ordered a drink. He cast his eyes over the patrons of the bar, and smirked as though someone had told him a joke.

"Quite the mixed bag in here..." he muttered to himself, turning his attention to the drink placed before him.

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Island of 1,000 Condiments

“A brutal, heart-wrenching battle sweeps across a landscape of aged stone. I see a young boy with eyes just like yours. The two of you exchange blows. In the background, demonic flames engulf the wildlife. It spreads, consuming all in its path. It was yours. Because of it, your eyes bleed ceaselessly. Your vision is blurry and you’re losing your balance.” All of a sudden the entity stopped. He paused and waved his hand across his cup. A psychokinetic power lifted the spoon from within the cup. With the opposite hand, the being snatched it from the air. Then, he turned to Uchiha Itachi. As he did, the spoon bent and twisted itself backwards. Was this shaman a psychic? How did he know Uchiha Itachi? More importantly, what was he talking about, and how did he know it? Before he could continue speaking, his head began throbbing. With one hand, he reached into the shadowy abyss beneath his hood and rubbed his forehead. It looked like he was in pain, and he crippled further onto the countertop. “Young man, my name is Chitoku, and if you wish to talk, please don’t hesitate.”

OoC - Just go along with it, but don't worry. I'm done with the mind-reading for now. I just needed to start up a conversation.

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Nikushimi

The air thickened around Itachi and his throat went dry. All at once, sound and sight became muffled, and the very fabric of existence seemed to shudder. Was he fainting? He couldn't tell. Wrapping his hand firmly around the edge of the counter, the crimson-eyed shinobi steadied himself, a mixed look of surprise and confusion on his face as he stared at the humble creature before him.

"You... What are you? How do you know all of this?"

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Island of 1,000 Condiments

OoC - Prepare to shit bricks.

Chitoku shut both of his eyes and then answered, “In a dimension far, far away, there is a barren wasteland. Beyond the canyons and beyond the prairies, there is a small tribe of powerful beings. We are humble creatures who seek nothing but to expand our knowledge of the universe around us. The most powerful of us, shaman, journey throughout the dimensions every thousand years to catch up with society - to learn anything and everything that has changed since our fathers journeyed before us.” He stopped, and turned himself toward the Uchiha. The rattling and clanking of his many armaments and charms could be heard. At last, his eyes burst open to meet eye to eye with the young, beaten ninja. He examined every aspect about him, from the Sharingan to his uniform. For the next few moments, he remained silent. Then, he lifted his left arm and brushed it a few inches above his hood. His psychic powers went to work and it slowly slid down his massive cranium. His face was revealed to Itachi. “I am an Alakazam - Rumored to be one of the most intelligent species in existence.”

Nikushimi

OOC- FUCK YOU TOO, ISLAND.


Itachi was wide-eyed, almost like a child. He had seen many strange things in his lifetime, and the shinobi world did in fact have many strange things yet to be shown. But this was all rather sudden, so he didn't take it quite as well as he should have.

"'A-Alakazam'?" he muttered softly at first, before recomposing himself and getting more serious, "Please forgive my rudeness. If you know of me, then that must mean you have business with me. Although..."

At that moment, for the first time in a long while, a familiar look came to Itachi's face. Yes, it was neither a look of hopelessness or calmness, but in fact, something completely opposite. On this man's face was etched the very incarnation of evil, murderous intent, and the power of his eyes carved deep into Chitoku. This man may be able to read his soul, but Itachi knew that his soul was better left unread.

"...if you truly know of me, you should probably start begging for your life now..." he breathed coldly, his voice carrying a dark, imperial tone to it as he drew out a kunai.

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Island of 1,000 Condiments

OoC - I thought you'd like it.

Powerful, yet aged, the man behind the counter glanced up. He was scrubbing a glass clean with a handkerchief, and out of the corner of his eye, he noti