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Gerald Renault

ex-military colonel and intel officer hailing from the Northern Outersphere Authority.

0 · 575 views · located in The Infinite Void

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Kronos

So begins...

Gerald Renault's Story

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#, as written by Kronos
Gerald Renault pulls the bright orange Screaming Eagle into Gambit's parking lot. With a few keystrokes he powers down the heavily modified bike. What was a sea of light flickers off. Finishing up, he twists out the customized ignition block. Quite rudely, Gerald shoulders his way through Gambit's door and takes a seat directly at the end of the long granite bar.

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#, as written by Kronos
Gerald Renault kicks at the ebony fog with his steel-toed leather boots. He looks across the room, eyes darting from person to person in search of the faggot who's making it impossible to not hit his boots on things. "Who da' fuck...!"

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#, as written by Kronos
Gerald Renault locked eyes with Sophia Voth. Little gears clicked in his brain and his fists curled. Then something darted past him, brushing against his boot. A cat could certainly trip a foolish young, but not a two-hundred and twenty pound man. He kicked in the direction of the skittering, but his gazed was still locked with Sophia.

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#, as written by Kronos
 “ *gaze ”

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#, as written by Kronos
Gerald Renault stubbed his toe. Inside his foot. It hurt like hell. He cursed quite loudly and stomped, sliding and ramming his foot into a barstool with no effect. Gravity was the weak force, compared to muscular action, it was nothing. He fumed. The added effect of the amps' blaring just added to his anger. "Yea girl? Was this ****** fog your idea?"

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#, as written by Kronos
Gerald Renault stood still.

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#, as written by Kronos
Gerald Renault continued to stare. The look of apprehension on his face changed into one of hatred. "Talk, girl. Say something."

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#, as written by Kronos
Gerald Renault just turned away and sat down. This girl was hopeless. He rested his boots on the crown molding, out of whatever that was, and looked across the way to the bartender. "A whiskey, straight."

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#, as written by Kronos
Gerald Renault got his drink, downed it, and headed out for the door.

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#, as written by Kronos
 “ -Exit- ”

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#, as written by Kronos
Gerald Renault turned on his heel with the .44 Magnum held high. His baby had killed more than one 'god' in self defense and wouldn't be stopped now. "God. Damn." he muttered, and then he spoke up, "You, stop with that shit." He looked from Sazuka Collins-Ryujin to his gun and back.

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#, as written by Kronos
Gerald Renault had been working at Gambit's bar for three weeks now. The sheer diversity of the patrons always impressed him. He had always worked at night while he was trained. Now in the early hours of the afternoon [US Central Time] the diversity had dwindled and the bar crowed had arrived. Catering to a subset of Wing City patrons with interesting schedules, Gambit's Bar had a happy hour with dollar well drinks. Gerald felt like announcing it, "Dollar well drinks for the hour, boys! Pick you poison!" He stood at the bar, absent mindedly polishing the granite counter with his towel, and waited for someone to order.\

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#, as written by Kronos
Gerald slid his right hand under the bar and quietly flipped a switch. A glimmering energy field slid across the bar and then went transparent. If the patrons attacked each other, he would be safe.

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#, as written by Kronos
The bartender went around his business, dumping the nasty bar mats into the sink, cleaning glasses, and wiping the granite bar clean. His hand passed through the force field. It would only deflect energy or high powered impacts like bullets. Obviously annoyed, he yelled, "Are y'all gonna' to get a drink or just take up tables?"

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#, as written by Kronos
Gerald Renault didn't take crap. As the trench coated man took his reclusive seat at the bar, he briefly noticed his somber expression before attending to other customers. After several minutes, he approached the trench-coated man. "Can I get you anything, sir?"

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#, as written by Kronos
Gerald Renault saddled up to the bar. Tonight he was wearing jeans, work boots, a v-neck t-shirt with red and grey stripes, and a flatbill with TECHNOCRATS

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#, as written by Kronos
Gerald Renault - emblazoned across the front. "Hey, could I get a tequila sunrise," he asked the bartender.

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#, as written by Kronos
Gerald Renault remarks, "Shitty service here," to no-one in particular as the bartender is nowhere to be found. Looking around at the bar, he commented, "Some weird fucks here tonight." No remotely normal humans, or even Aschen, to be found.

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#, as written by Kronos
Gerald Renault just sighed. "Like you. That just never sounds friendly bro." Gerald finally got his tequila sunrise and sipped on it lightly, not turning to the man. He then idly checked his phone.

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#, as written by Kronos
Gerald Renault watched the commotion in the bar from a corner booth. Two just off-duty ARMARX operators sat with him, wearing urban camo battle dress uniforms stripped of their heavy armor. Gerald himself was wearing jeans a salmon polo with a grey v-neck underneath. He stroked the holster strapped to his thigh, taking in the action and anticipating that violence might come his way.