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Post by ~*:.Sam.:*~ on Oct 12, 2006 19:32:59 GMT -7
Anna walked down the streets, doging drunken men as she went. Her appearence was bleak and unfriendly. Her arms crossed, head down, and a stern face. She was a very beautiful girl, but no one could get past her defensive attitude to see that. To get away from the croud, she went into a bar that was actually very quiet for Tortuga. She sat in the very back, in the darkest corner, and waited.
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Post by Sylvia Phoenix on Oct 14, 2006 14:21:39 GMT -7
Coincidentally, Sylvia walked into the bar just a few minutes after Anna did. Even though it wasn't a really long time since she'd ditched those rich snobs in Port Royal, she'd quite forgotten them and had been getitng on with life. Though even after three years, she hadn't come to a decision about what to do with the heart of Davy Jones, simply because she didn't know how to use it. Of course stabbing it wasn't an option. Burying it, quite impossible. She'd have to make a visit to Tia Dalma sometime soon. She would know. But until then, she could do with a drink. Sylvia went and sat in an alcove a few feet from where Anna was sitting, and drank some rum.
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Post by ~*:.Sam.:*~ on Oct 14, 2006 19:20:05 GMT -7
Anna looked over at Sylvia with a very unfriendly look, then continued to stare into the abiss. She was distracted by a crowd of drunks trying to find a new place to drink. They started arguing with the people who were already in the bar, and then all hell broke loose. People were flinging other people threw the air, breaking tables, and more people joined by the minute. Anna tried to ignore it. Her and this woman a few feet away were the only ones not in the fight.
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Post by Sylvia Phoenix on Oct 14, 2006 20:24:18 GMT -7
Sylvia's only act of participation in the fight was to kick someone who almost crashed into her, the heel of her boot knocking them over. Then she went back to docilely drinking her rum. She gave the girl in the near corner an indifferent side glance but said nothing. Surprising, she thought, I'm not the only one who isn't flinging drunks over the stairs and running into walls.
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Post by ~*:.Sam.:*~ on Oct 14, 2006 20:59:24 GMT -7
"Idiots." she said in her Russian accent. She shook her head and continued to watch the men. One man landed on the table right in front of Anna's and flipped it over. "No brains whatsoever." she rolled her eyes and sighed. She looked over at the woman once again, surprized she wasn't in the fight.
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Post by Sylvia Phoenix on Oct 14, 2006 21:04:03 GMT -7
As it happens, Sylvia said "Idiots!" at the same time as Anna, though her voice was American, and she reocgnized the other girl's Russian accent right away. Russians in Tortuga? Well, there were Russian pirates, but she'd never seen one till now. If she was indeed a pirate.
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Post by Captain Jack on Oct 25, 2006 20:31:06 GMT -7
((mwuhah))
The place was total chaos as people raced around grabbing chairs, tables, or just plain using their fists to bash someone's skull inside out. Most of these men were as drunk as pigs and by morning they would regret everything they did. They'd sob about it all day ask themselves why they did it and then a few hours later they've gone back to the very thing they felt horrible about. Though, others would just stay as drunk as they could at all possible times.
Anyway, just as casual as ever the door to the very chaotic tavern was opened letting in a good sized man who was dressed in brown with a brown hat to cover his face. He walked in looking around not surprised as he was here before not long ago. The thing this man was surprised about was that he actually saw the person he was looking for. He started to make his over but was instantly shoved to the ground by at least five men. Squirming out of that situation he stood up brushing himself off but then felt his head to find no hat. His face was now revealed quite clearly as Desmond.
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Post by Sylvia Phoenix on Oct 27, 2006 11:50:52 GMT -7
Sylvia's eyes were too focused on the curiously unique girl in the corner to notice that her old "friend" had walked into the bar as was making his way toward her. A repeat of history? Maybe.
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