Metal Gods

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Owner: Iye Khara
Game Masters: Iye Khara
Tags: all kinds of friggin\' metal, band, black metal, blink 182 sucks, cool story bro, crust punk, death metal, doom metal, groove metal, lol love lol, metal, music, not fake punk, original, pu, rp, seriously that shit ain\'t real punk, so does offspring, thrash metal, trippy, watch out guys we\'re dealing with a badass here, whoa man (Add Tags »)

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Rick was not a fast man, in brainpower or on foot. He had once challenged Ian to a three-block sprint down the center of a main Pittsburgh street at midnight after several pints at a nifty little Irish pub, both of them barely capable of standing, let alone moving at high velocity down the middle of a city street. Ian was just trashed enough to oblige, and what resulted was the most embarrassing defeat since the last time the French won anything. Rick passed out in the middle of the street that night, having run out of breath and decided sleeping was preferable to running. To date, it may well have been the only thing Lenchi had ever won. But regardless, despite his general calm lethargy, Rick knew when it was time to act.

He had remained zoned out for the entirety of the exchange between Vivian and Harlyn, waiting for things to lull before he made his move. Once they did, Rick immediately began. He started by physically lifting Vivian's old-school barstool away from the bar and replacing it with his own, which he then placed his own buttocks onto and firmly entrenched himself upon. He turned to Viv and raised one hand in a halting gesture, his face serious. "No bar fights tonight, Viv. If y'all really wanna start something, there's a place down the street but for now just drink an' be merry, or whatever. In fact, pint a' Guinness for the walkin' skeleton," Rick said, pointing at Giles and raising his voice to capture the attention of the bartender, "And the next round's on me, too."

He quickly swiveled away from the members of Nerveshock to face Vivian head-on. "Look," he said simply, eyes firm, "I don't wanna start nothin' tonight; 'specially what with the tour coming up the way it is. If you start a bar fight tonight, or if you piss her off and she gets drunk so far under the table it merits a hospital trip -" he glanced over his shoulder and back again - "which, lookin' at her, may be likely if'n you two get into i - an' that means th' tour's delayed or maybe even off." He cocked an eyebrow at this point.

"Now, I don't want this to happen to me 'cause I kinda like playin' this music." He tilted his head slightly to the site, keeping his eyebrow raised. "Do you?" With that said, he turned back towards the bar and awaited his next drink.