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Dos; [Ninja]
Topic Started: Mar 22 2008, 03:51 AM (40 Views)
Kryten Shards
Unregistered

Quite the opposite from the usual, the camera fades into rowdy sounds and sights for a scene this time. Voices from dozens of people fill the room and battle each other for dominance in who is heard over all the others there. To contend with they also have music playing over the sound system of speakers that line the corners of the walls. All of this drowning out nearly the few televisions’ and the sports on them sound effects that blast from the tiny speakers on each TV.

A serious lack of light in the place save the bar's shelf wall and the smoke from a rag tag amount of cigarettes creates a moody aura to the place. This combination makes it near impossible to see any one's faces, each one a cryptic creature taking time to dip into their vices. Even when small bursts of drunken laughter ring out their faces remain hidden within this veil and their figures become a blur in their motions. The bartender near the lights is the only person that is truly visible to some extent, showing age is starting to take it's toll on him in his features & hair.

It is this casually dressed gentleman that notices what the camera's lens soon zooms in on, a lone figure at the end of the bar. Joy and glee, indulgence, and all the other positive emotions that others experience are void in this man's body language. His butt sits gently on the stool and his back is arched forward, his shoulders slumping and giving way for his arms to find a resting spot on the counter. Introverted to a maximum, the man's head is hanging limp from the stump one might call a neck as the smoke swirls around him in odd designs.

This customer is rather sharp yet oddly dressed all at once and in the same, a suit covers his body's mass from the public. Shiny leather dress shoes laced over his feet, a dark violet suit with white pin stripes act as his pants and his jacket over a white shirt. Around the collar of his shirt sits a tie with the yin yang symbol on it though it's bizarre nature pales in comparison...to the mask on his head. Vicious, the dragon's face that makes up the design of the mask snarls at an unknown entity or observer.

While his eyes are hidden beneath the mask, his head's tilt gives a sign to what he may be looking at and that is the two things his hands are holding. The first sits in his left hand, it almost acting like a cushion around the cold and hard glass mug that's contents are alcohol of some kind. Unlike so many other customers to this bar, it would seem that this one's yet to take a drink from his if his posture and full mug is any hint. The second sits in his right hand and is partially engulfed by it, it looks to be some kind of carving job and a single white wing pokes out from between his fingers.

Minutes tick by and the Second Generation Extreme Ninja continues to sit there with each in one of his hands with his eyes on both. The entire bar passes by him and going on with their lives like he is some lingering spirit from a time long forgotten. That rage filled expression on the dragon's face continues to look down at the two objects along with him, twitching when his right hand starts to loosen. One by one his fingers start to give the object some room and a beak starts to come into view of the lens.

Just within an instant it is gone, the fingers come back down onto it and harder than before to make the grip tighter on the object. Valiantly it tries to hold it's self against the weight and power of the hand, and manages to sustain its existence for a few more moments. But like all objects, enough pressure and it goes beyond the holding point and a small noise seeps out that goes unnoticed by the others in the establishment. Another small clang follows when the stone wing tumbles down to the counter, and skids across it a few inches away from the fist it came from.

For whatever reasons a mysterious and dark, deep inhale heaves EN #2's chest upwards and then back down when he lets out his sigh. Like a dying weed, his left hand withers away from the beer mug and scoops the wing within its palm along its path of movement. The hand soon sits beside its brethren and the right hand, the two cradling the object's two pieces inside of them and he lowers his head deeper. To the point where it is impossible to see the masked face and the camera fades into black...
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