Post by Vladimir Strife on Apr 24, 2012 15:36:40 GMT -4
A padded thud cut through the silence of the rustic bar as the dart tip lunged through through the bullseye. A petite gentleman clad in a black jacket with flames flamboyantly designed across it squints an eye as he lines up his sight before planting a second dart just below the first, several patrons at the bar too deep in the thoughts that brought them there night after night taking to notice his impressive aim. A large man behind the wiry fellow shakes his head in disappointment while slipping a $5 bill from his wallet and laying it on the table next to them before taking his own seat before the bartender.
Clearing the board, the man pays no mind to the sound of the door squeaking upon the rusted hinges or the plod of boots across the dry wooden floor growing ever nearer. As they persist, the young man continues to eye the bullseye in his sight over the sharp tip of his dart, holding steady as he grows ever paranoid. When the sounds stop behind him, a mild fragrance wafts through the usual hints of flat beer and cheap whiskey and he lowers the dart with a defeated sigh.
"I suppose it was only a matter of time.."
He lays the dart on the table, it rolling a short distance before coming to a stop. A short stack of manilla folders are plopped down on top of it, piquing his interest momentarily. He reaches over and flips the top file open, a chill running up his spine as he glances over it.
"...Not interested."
He flips the cover back over, shutting it before picking up his dart and focusing his aim on the board again.
"It wasn't an offer. You're a smart boy, I'm sure you realize the only alternative."
"Are you sure you've still got it in you?"
The dart finds it's way to the bullseye again, providing a certain punctuation to the question.
"Absolutely."
The smaller man lets out another mournful sigh and plants another dart upon the board close enough to nick the tail of the last.
"Then I suppose there's not really a choice."
A smirk crawls across the newcomer's face.
"I'm glad we could come to an understanding."
As the hinges screech in disrepair once more, The Reaper cracks the first file open again, gazing down to the strange face in the picture before him.
~End of Thread~
Clearing the board, the man pays no mind to the sound of the door squeaking upon the rusted hinges or the plod of boots across the dry wooden floor growing ever nearer. As they persist, the young man continues to eye the bullseye in his sight over the sharp tip of his dart, holding steady as he grows ever paranoid. When the sounds stop behind him, a mild fragrance wafts through the usual hints of flat beer and cheap whiskey and he lowers the dart with a defeated sigh.
"I suppose it was only a matter of time.."
He lays the dart on the table, it rolling a short distance before coming to a stop. A short stack of manilla folders are plopped down on top of it, piquing his interest momentarily. He reaches over and flips the top file open, a chill running up his spine as he glances over it.
"...Not interested."
He flips the cover back over, shutting it before picking up his dart and focusing his aim on the board again.
"It wasn't an offer. You're a smart boy, I'm sure you realize the only alternative."
"Are you sure you've still got it in you?"
The dart finds it's way to the bullseye again, providing a certain punctuation to the question.
"Absolutely."
The smaller man lets out another mournful sigh and plants another dart upon the board close enough to nick the tail of the last.
"Then I suppose there's not really a choice."
A smirk crawls across the newcomer's face.
"I'm glad we could come to an understanding."
As the hinges screech in disrepair once more, The Reaper cracks the first file open again, gazing down to the strange face in the picture before him.
~End of Thread~
