Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Vulcanus, Feb 23, 2016.

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  1. May 8, 2008
    Providence, Rhode Island

    On the sidewalk of a damp, dark street, an immortal stops to shiver, stiffen, and glance around cautiously for a moment before contemplating the sign hanging above: "The Red Fez." He pulled out a smart phone encased in bright pink, double-checking his notes to himself, the light from the phone illuminating a tan, youthful complexion hiding behind multi-colored, round sunglasses. The opera-length, slimline cigarette holder clenched between his dentures falls loose as the man suddenly blurts "Moshi Moshi" as another pedestrian passes from behind. He catches the cigarette holder, but loses both his phone and his cigarette to gravity. "Fig fucking Newtons."

    He reached down and picked up his phone from the concrete, but only after checking his surroundings once more. The flowery case had failed him, a spiderweb of cracks reaching over the now dark screen. He sighed, placing the phone back where it fell, standing, and brushing back his trench coat to reach into the pocket of his pinstripe tuxedo pants, withdrawing a giant cigarette lighter clenched in homemade, fingerless gloves, and lighting another cigarette in his holder.

    Cigarette replaced, he stowed the lighter and fluffed his bright red cravat bulging from the collar of his sweater vest. He glanced around one last time before opening the door to to the Red Fez in dramatic fashion, letting it swing wide and slam against the wall. He counted to three beneath his breath before finally widening his stance, waving finger guns in jazz hands fashion and growling, "Wazzaaaaaaaaaap..." his voice cracking halfway through.

    The Red Fez was dark, the red walls lit dimly by Christmas lights. Patrons sat scattered throughout--a slow Thursday night. The immortal glanced over the assembly a couple of moments, seeming to make pains not to dwell on any one figure. Finally, he resumed a normal stance, awkwardly closed the door behind him, and took a seat alone at the bar. The bartender was absent, and so he twirled the bright red hair of his curly wig in his finger, waiting.
    #1 Vulcanus, Feb 23, 2016
    Last edited: Feb 27, 2016
  2. testing, will be edited later
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