Post number #58167, ID: 3887ad
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>A small establishment, nearly hidden between two larger buildings in the alleyways, stands waiting. >A neon sign stating "Welcome" lit up, as a man with a bizarre mask, a blend of the tragedy and comedy mask, stands behind a bar counter. >He idly cleans a mug, humming to himself, and occasionally glancing about the small bar, it contained only three tables inside, yet all of them well maintained.
Post number #58239, ID: 1eaf62
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>The doors open as a well cloaked, somewhat hunched over man makes his way inside, half of his face obscured by his rags and a dirty scarf. He hobbles over to the nearest table.
Post number #58242, ID: 3887ad
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>Without a moment of hesitation, the masked man makes his way over to the table that was now occupied. He holds a small notebook with a pen in the other hand, waiting expectantly. The only words from him, in a weirdly soothing, deep voice "A drink?"
Post number #58244, ID: 1eaf62
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"An Old Fashioned, if you please," >Croaks the hooded man.
Post number #58247, ID: 3887ad
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>The masked man scrawls something on his journal, then going behind the counter and pouring a mix into a mixer, which he then shakes vigorously. >After a while, he pours it into a mug and walks over again, setting the mug in front of the man. "Would you like to open a tab?" He suddenly says in his slow speaking voice.
Post number #58253, ID: 1eaf62
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>>58247 "Would you kindly?"
Post number #58258, ID: 3887ad
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>The masked man scratches a few more things into his journal, and then nods, before stepping back behind the counter.
Post number #58269, ID: 1eaf62
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>Alone once again, the hooded man sips gingerly at their drink, and occasionally takes out a small digipad to jot down notes or something or other. There's an odd clanking noise that sounds from his head area everytime he sips.
Post number #58276, ID: 3887ad
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>The masked man, holding no prejudice against his patron who may or may not produce more clanking noises than others, simply wrote into his journal, the pages remaining unturned even though he wrote for so long. Though on occasion, he glanced up at his patron, curious of what led him here, yet asking nothing.
Post number #58921, ID: 1eaf62
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Post number #58947, ID: 1eaf62
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"Remarkably dead, isn't it?" >The hunched man says. "A shame. Your drinks hit the spot all the same."
Total number of posts: 11,
last modified on:
Mon Jan 1 00:00:00 1512489883
| >A small establishment, nearly hidden between two larger buildings in the alleyways, stands waiting.
>A neon sign stating "Welcome" lit up, as a man with a bizarre mask, a blend of the tragedy and comedy mask, stands behind a bar counter.
>He idly cleans a mug, humming to himself, and occasionally glancing about the small bar, it contained only three tables inside, yet all of them well maintained.