Tony Vasara
Fostern
Judgment from the Skies
Manche f?hren, manche folgen
Posts: 648
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Post by Tony Vasara on Mar 18, 2007 16:27:11 GMT 1
"Blood? Yeah, I guess so. I got in one hell of a fight last night when me and my buddies were drinking. Just a friendly hint for you; stay the hell away from Schlachthaus Club, there's some crazy punks around just picking a fight there!" Vasara tried to think furiously what to say so this fellow wouldn't start shouting the cops to check him "...good thing is I managed to get into my friends car to sober up, and it looks like I didn't break any bones in me. It's funny how even a small cuts can bleed like hell, don't you think?" Vasara looked at the man with a weak smile on his face.
"Huh? Any idea what has happened there?" he looked at cops on the other side of the street. "I must have crashed pretty hard as sure as hell I didn't hear anything while I was sleeping!" Vasara looked thoughtfully at the scene, wondering what kind of evidence he might have left there. One of the reasons Vasara really disliked on alcohol and drugs was that they tended to cloud your judgement as well as memory. He really hoped there was nothing too discriminating left there.
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Post by Shehrazad on Mar 22, 2007 8:07:23 GMT 1
"Yeah, seems like a suicide for now. Scary to think what kind of a world we live in..." he seemed to buy the story about the brawl, and didn't ask any more questions. "They won't let anyone close enough, but it looks like a jumper. You take care, and sleep off that hangover man. Thanks for the advice."
The polite (if somewhat naive) man bid Vasara a good day and wandered off.
((Good save ))
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Tony Vasara
Fostern
Judgment from the Skies
Manche f?hren, manche folgen
Posts: 648
|
Post by Tony Vasara on Mar 23, 2007 18:42:46 GMT 1
Vasara attempted to smile to man as he leaved but managed only to get out a grin. "Yeah, scary world indeed..." he whispered as he grabbed the mirror in his hand from front window. With a strong twisting motion he yanked it until the plastic holding mirror in window broke. Vasara leaned heavily back into sitting position in the backseat and looked again around. Didn't he take one of those guns when he ran out of the building?
Not bothering to start really looking for it he laid back on the backseat after checking one more time surroundings. Saxon fled into umbra, and he took several hits from the darts, so he could still be there, laying unconscious somewhere nearby. Vasara thought it was better to be sure than sorry and raised the mirror right in front of his eye. He stared his reflection and saw his grin widen. No wonder the man bought his brawl-story. He really looked like shit.
He kept staring his reflection, trying to see through it, past it, taking his time for the shift to occur. As he knew, he really wasn't very spiritual, so it was always a small victory only to get into the Otherside.
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