Where the hell am I?

[rb-riddick.livejournal.com]

*The bar doors FLY open and slam into the walls. A very large, very muscular man comes flying through the now open doors. He's sweaty with a black tank-top on and black cloth on his hands where they have been scrapped and scratched. He has open wounds on his chest and side, deep enough to need stiches. He lands on the floor with a loud 'CRASH', somehow missing every table and chair in the room. No damage is done to the floor either. He has a pair of goggles sitting on top of his head and a shotgun in his hands. It's chamber is empty though, signifying that he's shot something, somewhere.

As he is laying on the floor he wonders if the beast has been killed or if it is going to follow him through the doors. He opens his eyes to look but he's blinded the bright light. Immediately his empty hand reaches for the goggles on his head and pulls them down over his eyes. Then he thinks, 'how in the hell is there any light? I turned off all the generators?' He looks around the room to see hundreds of faces staring at him in dismay. He then wonders where he is.

To himself: 'Where am I, how did I get here, and who are these people?'

He gets up, turns around, notices a bar at the other side of the room and walks over. He sits down and puts the shotgun in front of him. He keeps his back to the wall and just looks aorund, waiting for the creature that was chasing him to come through the doors he just flew through himself.

Comments

[rb-riddick.livejournal.com]

A bar? That means I'm no longer in that prison.

*He gets a sly smirk on his face, eyes glowing if they could be seen.*

[timsbooks.livejournal.com]

*Tim nods.*

That right, a bar.

*Tim eyes the shotgun behind his own sunglasses.*

one with two very strict rules. No violence, not even against inanimate objects, and no business.

[rb-riddick.livejournal.com]

*He cocks his head.*

Don't fuck with me and there won't be any 'buisness'.

[timsbooks.livejournal.com]

*Tim just smiles.*

I'm bar security. So long as you don't cause a problem, i shall not have to fuck with you.

[rb-riddick.livejournal.com]

Good, we have understanding.

[timsbooks.livejournal.com]

Excellent.

*Tim nods.*

Basic advice... the bar is sentient. She'll get your drinks, charge you a tab, and you can pay up when you have money or fair exchange. This place is host to gods, demons, angels, dead people, super heros and magic users from all across the multiverse. A hint...Anyone who is too pale and dresses in dark clothing can probably destroy you with a thought.

[rb-riddick.livejournal.com]

I'll keep that in mind.

[timsbooks.livejournal.com]

*Tim nods.*

And if you need a room, ask the bar.

[rb-riddick.livejournal.com]

Thanks. Do you want to be like the prison guards and take my empty gun away?

[timsbooks.livejournal.com]

*Tim waves it off.*

No need unless you actually use it.

[rb-riddick.livejournal.com]

Only need it if one of those creatures comes in through those doors.

*Points to the doors which he flew through not even an hour ago.*

[timsbooks.livejournal.com]

*Tim laughs.*

Protection is allowed. Have a good time sir.

*And he walks away*

[rb-riddick.livejournal.com]

*He turns back to the bar and orders a beer.*