https://strawhats.rpg-board.net/t786-the-hangover?nid=35#3488
The heavy wooden door to the local tavern at the heart of Mock Town swung open and Mashyuu, black jacket folded under one arm, mask tucked into his front left pocket and red sunglasses on his face lazily walked into the bar. Bruised and battered from his fight with the chain wielding slaver, his black hair was a mess, white wings tucked in on his back defensively as if they were so tired from flying they would fall off at any moment. He wandered to an empty table at the farthest corner from the door and flopped into a wooden seat with a loud thud. Slowly he tilted his head down and removed the red shades from his face only to let them clatter on the round table in front of him. There were only a few people in the bar, most of witch were regulars who were plastered and talking about some concert that should have been over by now. Curiously, Mashyuu's right brow arched up high and he lifted his head to listen to the conversation going on across the bar. The winged pirate had never heard of a concert before, where he was from only had pain and death, and after that, the island he fell to was small, only a hundred people if not fewer, sure they had music but nothing like what the men were talking about. I'd sure like to see what all the fuss is about. It does explain why nobody was out to try and break up my fights today. Maybe that family the two slavers were after wasn't even home, considering they didn't come out... I NEVER MOVED THE DEAD BODIES! THOSE KIDS ARE GONNA FREAK! Mashyuu thought to himself with wide eyes as he realized what he had done.
Mashyuu's shoulders slumped forward and he heaved his jacket up onto the table and he waved a waitress over to him. She sauntered up to the pirate and flirted before taking his order, a simple one, a pack of ice, a glass of whiskey and a plate of meat. When the ice arrived, Mashyuu placed it on his fingers that had been crushed by the chain, his arm would heal fast enough but he wouldn't be able to use his dagger the way he normally did with swollen and bruised fingers. It was then that people from the concert started to flood into the bar, looking for a place to keep drinking after the festivities had ended. Mashyuu smirked, seeing people happy always lifted his spirits and from how the people were acting, the concert must have been been fantastic.
Soon enough someone had found a piano against a wall and started to play a tune just loud enough that everyone could hear it but still talk over the sound. The tune was pleasant to the ear and relaxed Mashyuu to the point that after his meal and glass of whiskey he was able to simply lean back and watch the others. It was then that a man walked in who would set Mashyuu on the path of true piracy weather either of the two knew it or not...
The heavy wooden door to the local tavern at the heart of Mock Town swung open and Mashyuu, black jacket folded under one arm, mask tucked into his front left pocket and red sunglasses on his face lazily walked into the bar. Bruised and battered from his fight with the chain wielding slaver, his black hair was a mess, white wings tucked in on his back defensively as if they were so tired from flying they would fall off at any moment. He wandered to an empty table at the farthest corner from the door and flopped into a wooden seat with a loud thud. Slowly he tilted his head down and removed the red shades from his face only to let them clatter on the round table in front of him. There were only a few people in the bar, most of witch were regulars who were plastered and talking about some concert that should have been over by now. Curiously, Mashyuu's right brow arched up high and he lifted his head to listen to the conversation going on across the bar. The winged pirate had never heard of a concert before, where he was from only had pain and death, and after that, the island he fell to was small, only a hundred people if not fewer, sure they had music but nothing like what the men were talking about. I'd sure like to see what all the fuss is about. It does explain why nobody was out to try and break up my fights today. Maybe that family the two slavers were after wasn't even home, considering they didn't come out... I NEVER MOVED THE DEAD BODIES! THOSE KIDS ARE GONNA FREAK! Mashyuu thought to himself with wide eyes as he realized what he had done.
Mashyuu's shoulders slumped forward and he heaved his jacket up onto the table and he waved a waitress over to him. She sauntered up to the pirate and flirted before taking his order, a simple one, a pack of ice, a glass of whiskey and a plate of meat. When the ice arrived, Mashyuu placed it on his fingers that had been crushed by the chain, his arm would heal fast enough but he wouldn't be able to use his dagger the way he normally did with swollen and bruised fingers. It was then that people from the concert started to flood into the bar, looking for a place to keep drinking after the festivities had ended. Mashyuu smirked, seeing people happy always lifted his spirits and from how the people were acting, the concert must have been been fantastic.
Soon enough someone had found a piano against a wall and started to play a tune just loud enough that everyone could hear it but still talk over the sound. The tune was pleasant to the ear and relaxed Mashyuu to the point that after his meal and glass of whiskey he was able to simply lean back and watch the others. It was then that a man walked in who would set Mashyuu on the path of true piracy weather either of the two knew it or not...