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Post by OBERON MALUS on Feb 13, 2012 19:58:14 GMT -5
▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ BORN IN A WAR OF OPPOSITE ATTRACTION TORN BY THE ARMS OF OPPOSITE DIRECTION ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪[style=width: 320px; font-face: courier new; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify;]Oberon Malus, bounty hunter of the free state and the server of the military, sat gingerly on a table outside a small cafe shop. It was a nice and bright day outside and the weather was quite surprisingly warn. He could feel the warm breeze flowing and running through his white spiky hair. Currently he was wearing a grey dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a white vest. Along with his simplistic and monochrome attire he had been able to dress himself with black jeans and low cut shoes. His hair was tousled in a messy fashion as the exceptionably attractive waitress handed him a cup of coffee. Vanilla Latte extra cream and extra sugar. The way that he likes it. The aroma of his scented drink had filled his nostrils and the nostalgia would return to him. For some odd reason it seemed as though he grew to enjoy that scent very much even though it caused him so much pain over the years. He looked down the busy street filled with people. The mental lapses of past images filled his head. Oh those were the days weren't they. It was here almost 15 years ago when it all had started ----------------------- Oberon Malus | Eight Years Old | 15 years before current time| Flashback Father, where are we going?. The sound of the small little boys voice would reach his fathers ears but would not be acknowledged. The hard grip of his right hand on Oberon's left wrist tightened and quivered. Rain poured down on the streets of Illusia and would pour on both males. Oberon's pants were soaking wet but it was lucky he had a coat that had saved his shirt from getting any more soaked. Oberon's eyes glanced upon his fathers face searching for answers if there was any. Father, where are we going? Oberon would ask again. His fathers stern voice would come out rough and dry. Hush Oberon. Do not ask anymore questions.Oberon didn't ask anymore questions. He knew not to get his father crossed. After his mom died his father had been drinking more and more. He had come late from places Oberon had no idea about. Usually he would come home muttering something about money that he didn't understand. Strange men used to come to their doorstep barking out threats of murder if he didn't give them the money they needed. His father did nothing but hide and quiver. His room smelled like grass and plants but he was always told not to go inside so he never did. The boy and his father travelled over the town steps. Soon, his father would stop at a small cafe that was still open despite all of the pouring rain. Stay here Oberon. His dad would open the shop door leaving his son out on the pouring rain. As the door opened a sweet scent of vanilla filled Oberon's nostrils. Oh how nice. His father didn't take long as he conversed with one of the butch men inside the shop. Soon after he would open the door once more and come outside resuming his grip on Oberon's wrist dragging him through the streets once more.[/style] MADE BY LOVE SOLFEGE OF OTE !
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Post by Noah Bristow on Feb 15, 2012 22:21:52 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][bg=545454][atrb=style, width: 450px; border-top: 10px groove #547154; border-bottom: 10px groove #547154][atrb=background,http://i130.photobucket.com/albums/p249/exces-sive/pattern.gif]
[style=font-family: Arial-narrow; font-size: 7.6pt; line-height: 10pt; color: #334433; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 3px; text-transform: uppercase; background-color: #D6D6D6; height: 10px; border-top: 1px dashed #545454; border-bottom: 1px dashed #545454;]Knees are weak, hands are shaking, I can't breathe[/style] [style=font-family: ConcursoModerne BTN Lt; font-weight: bold; font-size: 30pt; line-height: 14pt; color: #545454; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 0px; text-transform: lowercase; margin-right: 5px;]So give me the drug[/style][style=overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: Arial-Narrow; font-size: 8.6pt; color: #545454; width: 300px; height: 300px; float: right; background-color: D6D6D6; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 5px; margin-bottom: 10px; border-top: 10px groove #547154; border-bottom: 10px groove #547154; padding: 5px;]The night before had started off normal for Noah but quickly escalated and turned into a blur. He was at a bar by himself getting drunk when some guys came in and invited everyone to some party. Being the way he was Noah immediately accepted just wanting to get free drinks not thinking about what he was getting himself into. Apparently the host had just earned a big reward on a job or something and decided to treat friends by throwing a mini beer pong tournament. Although he didn’t even make it to the semifinals of the tournament, he couldn’t help but think how the tournament didn’t seem so mini after participating in what felt like a million rounds. He scarcely remembered barely being able to stand and crawling under a table last night.
Noah woke up in practically the same condition he was in now only earlier he lost his shirt. Glancing around him, he saw the bodies of passed out males and females. If he stuck around he doubted they would great him warmly considering they had only allowed his presence because they were all wasted. With this in mind he decided to get out of there without his shirt. Once out on the streets he was greeted by a headache and cold weather but forced himself to ignore them. Instead he focused on taking care of this aching feeling in his stomach. Glancing around he figured the best thing to do would be to get something to eat or drink. The addition to his stomach would either settle it or make him vomit which could make him feel better.
It didn't take him long to notice a cafe not too far away. Opening the door to the shop, the aroma of coffee hit him the second he was inside. The smell was so pleasant he didn’t even glance around like he normally would and instead just asked for assistance.“Can I have some coffe please,” Noah asked the plump women behind the counter. Pain erupted through his head and his stomach began to convulse and heave again. He winced at the sudden pain and glanced at the cashier not hearing what she was saying. Fighting down the urge to vomit he pulled his wallet out and handed the woman money. The woman then hurriedly gave him his change and prepared his coffee.
Upon her return, Noah took his latte and nodded his thanks. As the pain in his head ebbed a little he turned and walked out of the cafe. Placing the latte to his lips he took a small sip and smirked as the warm liquid made its way down his throat. It was soon after this that Noah doubled over as his stomach began to churn. He felt the chunky liquid make its way up his throat and opened his mouth as vomit spewed out. It painted the floor a reddish hue as he placed his hands on his knees. Glancing around him, he noticed several people staring at him. He knew he must look like a complete imbecile wearing nothing but shoes, khaki pants, and no shirt with the way the weather was outside but he didn’t care. The hangover was doing him a lot worse than the cold weather could, in fact if had a choice he’d rather walk around in the snow naked then have to deal with it. His head felt like it was about to split open, he was hungry but he doubted he could really eat anything without throwing up, and he still had the taste of vomit on his tongue.[/style]
[style=background-color: #D6d6d6; padding: 5px; border: 1px dashed #545454; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 5px; width: 110px; margin-top: -30px;][/style][style=background-color: #d6d6d6; padding: 5px; border: 1px dashed #545454; margin-left: 5px; font-family: Arial-narrow; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: undercase; width: 110px; height: 200px; font-size: 7.6pt; color: #545454; text-transform: lowercase;] words!? 601 notes!? its weird and rushed I know tags!? Obe music!? Linkin Park lyrics!? Injection by Rise Against[/style] [style=font-family: Arial-narrow; font-size: 7.6pt; line-height: 10pt; color: #334433; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 3px; text-transform: uppercase; background-color: #D6D6D6; height: 10px; border-top: 1px dashed #545454; border-bottom: 1px dashed #545454; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;] credits to LIKEABOSS at ON THE EDGE[/style]
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Post by OBERON MALUS on Feb 16, 2012 21:28:15 GMT -5
▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ BORN IN A WAR OF OPPOSITE ATTRACTION TORN BY THE ARMS OF OPPOSITE DIRECTION ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪[style=width: 320px; font-face: courier new; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify;] Sipping on a cup of vanilla latte extra cream extra sugar. This was Oberon's way of relaxing afterall. The day had gone by quite nicely. The sun shone birhgtly above the small nifty cafe rstauraunt that he had come by. He laid his sword beside his cair asit leaned slightly on the sarm rest. He was wearing a grey button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and white vest. He also decided to done some appropriate black pants and black low cut shoes. It wasn't too humid outside as a cool breeze passed through his white hair. Hopefully someone of interest may come along though things that interest him have never been the case. Mostly anyone that isn't a pirate or a marine with a huge bounty would not interest him. But of course the day was nice and he was feeling slightly spontaneous. sipppppp The slurping sound of his drink seemed to be rude at the moment but again he was being quite spontaneous. As he was sipping he noticed that a man was coming into the cafe and passed by. The man was.....dressed....inappropriately. But of course that isn't for Oberon to judge. It was just a random passer across the street. A few minutes later he would walk out of the cafe and as if on cue for something the man..... threw up? Oberon stood up as the man threw up, which he would have thought would be due to the stress of alcohol. You know that alcohol kills most people before they are even 50? Surely the man was okay. It was just a mild case of a hangover. Thats all. It wasn't anything for him to worry about or concern himself with. You can sit down if you need it [/style] MADE BY LOVE SOLFEGE OF OTE !
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Post by Noah Bristow on Feb 16, 2012 21:57:12 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][bg=545454][atrb=style, width: 450px; border-top: 10px groove #547154; border-bottom: 10px groove #547154][atrb=background,http://i130.photobucket.com/albums/p249/exces-sive/pattern.gif]
[style=font-family: Arial-narrow; font-size: 7.6pt; line-height: 10pt; color: #334433; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 3px; text-transform: uppercase; background-color: #D6D6D6; height: 10px; border-top: 1px dashed #545454; border-bottom: 1px dashed #545454;]Knees are weak, hands are shaking, I can't breathe[/style] [style=font-family: ConcursoModerne BTN Lt; font-weight: bold; font-size: 30pt; line-height: 14pt; color: #545454; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 0px; text-transform: lowercase; margin-right: 5px;]So give me the drug[/style][style=overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: Arial-Narrow; font-size: 8.6pt; color: #545454; width: 300px; height: 300px; float: right; background-color: D6D6D6; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 5px; margin-bottom: 10px; border-top: 10px groove #547154; border-bottom: 10px groove #547154; padding: 5px;]Wiping his mouth, Noah wondered how long before the horrid taste of vomit left his tongue. He could attempt to finish the rest of his latte and see if that helped but he doubted it would, if anything it would just mix with the taste and make it worse. There was also the chance that the liquid going into his stomach would cause him to vomit more which would be counterproductive. Standing up straight, he placed the palm of his free hand against his forehead and winced as he head began to throb. He loved to drink but he hated to be hungover. It was worth it in more ways than one but then at the same time it wasn't. Drinking just granted one freedoms that being sober didn't. When intoxicated one wasn't responsible for what they said and did and thus were more honest and expressive.
Hearing someone speaking to him, the bounty hunter lazily glanced toward the speaker. It looked to be a male who was around his age if a little bit older. The man had white hair which was likely dyed and was dressed rather nicely considering he was just outside of a cafe and not doing some business shit. Had Noah been feeling better he would have likely had a smart retort for what the man said to him, but considering his current state of health he was incapable of thinking of anything witty. On top of being unable to think of anything he didn't really see the point in pissing anyone off considering that he was the one who had brought the comments upon himself. A shirtless ex-slave was sure to get chastised by any and all who saw him.
When the white haired male offered Noah a sit, the bounty hunter looked at him puzzled. Kindness wasn't something he expected especially not right now so it caught him off guard. Deciding to take the man up on the offer, he sat down and pressed his back against the cold metal of one of the chairs. “Noah,” he said introducing himself.[/style]
[style=background-color: #D6d6d6; padding: 5px; border: 1px dashed #545454; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 5px; width: 110px; margin-top: -30px;][/style][style=background-color: #d6d6d6; padding: 5px; border: 1px dashed #545454; margin-left: 5px; font-family: Arial-narrow; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: undercase; width: 110px; height: 200px; font-size: 7.6pt; color: #545454; text-transform: lowercase;] words!? 347 notes!? Boring post tags!? Oberon music!? The Script lyrics!? Injection by Rise Against[/style] [style=font-family: Arial-narrow; font-size: 7.6pt; line-height: 10pt; color: #334433; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 3px; text-transform: uppercase; background-color: #D6D6D6; height: 10px; border-top: 1px dashed #545454; border-bottom: 1px dashed #545454; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;] credits to LIKEABOSS at ON THE EDGE[/style]
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Post by OBERON MALUS on Feb 16, 2012 23:09:35 GMT -5
▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ BORN IN A WAR OF OPPOSITE ATTRACTION TORN BY THE ARMS OF OPPOSITE DIRECTION ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪[style=width: 320px; font-face: courier new; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify;] The man looked puzzled by his sudden random act of kindness towards him but Oberon didn't care. Taking a sip from his cup he would gulp down some more caffeine down his throat and feel the soothing hot boiling liquid massage his throat. There was a wave of heat that passed through his body which was quite refreshing after all. Noah. Did he believe that Oberon's name was Noah? No that couldn't possibly the case for it. It had to be something else after all. It would possibly be his name. Noah. A decent name. Oberon was quite hesitant in introducing himself but it would be the aristocratic thing to do after all Oberon. Would you care for something to drink.A sudden shock came from his words. Being nice wasn't a stranger thing to Oberon but it wasn't the quickest or the most common thing for him. Maybe it was the coffee talking but somehow he found that it would be an interesting conversation between them. He just hoped that he wouldn't throw up all over him. It would not be a good start to their conversation if one was ever to occur. Oberon also wished that he would put on a shirt. It was quite discomforting for him to talk to a shirtless man [/style] MADE BY LOVE SOLFEGE OF OTE !
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Post by Noah Bristow on Feb 17, 2012 14:03:31 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][bg=545454][atrb=style, width: 450px; border-top: 10px groove #547154; border-bottom: 10px groove #547154][atrb=background,http://i130.photobucket.com/albums/p249/exces-sive/pattern.gif]
[style=font-family: Arial-narrow; font-size: 7.6pt; line-height: 10pt; color: #334433; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 3px; text-transform: uppercase; background-color: #D6D6D6; height: 10px; border-top: 1px dashed #545454; border-bottom: 1px dashed #545454;]Knees are weak, hands are shaking, I can't breathe[/style] [style=font-family: ConcursoModerne BTN Lt; font-weight: bold; font-size: 30pt; line-height: 14pt; color: #545454; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 0px; text-transform: lowercase; margin-right: 5px;]So give me the drug[/style][style=overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: Arial-Narrow; font-size: 8.6pt; color: #545454; width: 300px; height: 300px; float: right; background-color: D6D6D6; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 5px; margin-bottom: 10px; border-top: 10px groove #547154; border-bottom: 10px groove #547154; padding: 5px;]Oberon. It was an interesting enough name, at least to actually meet someone with that name. If Noah remembered correctly it was the name of some fairy king in this one play. Had he been in a different mood, the bounty hunter would likely continue being a fairy to being a homosexual and use it to make fun of Oberon. It wasn't the kindest of things one could do but Noah wasn't all that kind unless there was sex involved. He had learned through experiences in life that there was rarely ever a need to be kind. Whether nice to people or harsh they still spit in your face and stabbed you in the back the second you turned around. If you were cruel to them it helped you feel someone better when your face was covered in their spittle or when your own blood poured from your wounds.
The ex-slave held up his latte in response to Oberon's question. “I have my own. Besides I doubt I can even finish this without the contents making an exit similar to their entrance.” The last bit of Noah's statement was of course referring to him vomiting. The pain in his head flared and Noah shut his eyes, and let out a sigh. He was used to pain but that didn't mean he liked it. His days as a slave had taught him how to take pain without crying or begging for it to end. Even with that said he would rather avoid pain just like any other person. There were very few people in the world who actually sought out pain and those that did were freaks. He had met one female who enjoyed pain and wanted him to hurt her during intercourse, it was an odd experience to say the least.
Shaking the memory from his mind, Noah glanced at Oberon. “What brings you to Karate Island?” Very few people came to the island for any other purpose besides training but based off of the way the man was dressed he doubted that was the reason he was here. Perhaps it was his stop on the way to somewhere else or he was taking care of some other business. The possibilities were endless and the easiest thing to do would be to wait until Oberon told him the reason.[/style]
[style=background-color: #D6d6d6; padding: 5px; border: 1px dashed #545454; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 5px; width: 110px; margin-top: -30px;][/style][style=background-color: #d6d6d6; padding: 5px; border: 1px dashed #545454; margin-left: 5px; font-family: Arial-narrow; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: undercase; width: 110px; height: 200px; font-size: 7.6pt; color: #545454; text-transform: lowercase;] words!? 389 notes!? post tags!? Oberon music!? The Weeknd lyrics!? Injection by Rise Against[/style] [style=font-family: Arial-narrow; font-size: 7.6pt; line-height: 10pt; color: #334433; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 3px; text-transform: uppercase; background-color: #D6D6D6; height: 10px; border-top: 1px dashed #545454; border-bottom: 1px dashed #545454; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;] credits to LIKEABOSS at ON THE EDGE[/style]
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Post by OBERON MALUS on Feb 17, 2012 19:20:44 GMT -5
▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ BORN IN A WAR OF OPPOSITE ATTRACTION TORN BY THE ARMS OF OPPOSITE DIRECTION ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪[style=width: 320px; font-face: courier new; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify;] Oberon glanced at the cup the cup that he seemed to have miscalculated for seeing as he brought up the fact that he had already had a drink. It wasn't that he missed it but it was that he just ignored and small details but of course that was just him being him. The pride of the man was a little but larger than most people which wasn't the best things at times but he was smart after all. He knew when to keep his tongue back and went to flare insult like pirates. Though he usually chooses not too because..... well because he is an aristocrat after all. Also due to his past he never quite enjoyed over excessive vulgar language or drinking but then again that was all just him The man seemed like he was in intense pain for some odd reason and it seemed a little bit over the top for him as the gestures upon his face seemed to cringe. Oberon continued to sip his drink, minding his own business. It was his own fault anyways, the pain that he had come for himself. No one had asked him to divulge in some over the top drinking and no one made him do anything. Though he kept it to himself and stayed apathetic the man would attempt at conversation. So what brings you to Karate Islands?. What an odd question. One that he didn't mind answering of course. One thing is that he didn't know that it was called karate Island. He had seen the signs before but he always thought that it was some sort of advertisement to it or a type of show for other people to come see. It was strange to name the island Karate Island while it clearly lacked any martial arts expertise. Nevertheless he remained emotionless through his confused turmoil over the name. He could tell the man he was here looking for bounty but if there was any chance he was a pirate he would be in deep trouble. So cleverly he bent around the truth. I like every other human, require berri. Some currency would be needed to exploit the great things in life, don't you agree? And what about you noah. What brings you here, to such a poorly named place. Oberon would take a sip while waiting for the mans answer. Still hoping he would but some clothes on.[/style] MADE BY LOVE SOLFEGE OF OTE !
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Post by Noah Bristow on Feb 18, 2012 9:48:47 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][bg=545454][atrb=style, width: 450px; border-top: 10px groove #547154; border-bottom: 10px groove #547154][atrb=background,http://i130.photobucket.com/albums/p249/exces-sive/pattern.gif]
[style=font-family: Arial-narrow; font-size: 7.6pt; line-height: 10pt; color: #334433; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 3px; text-transform: uppercase; background-color: #D6D6D6; height: 10px; border-top: 1px dashed #545454; border-bottom: 1px dashed #545454;]Knees are weak, hands are shaking, I can't breathe[/style] [style=font-family: ConcursoModerne BTN Lt; font-weight: bold; font-size: 30pt; line-height: 14pt; color: #545454; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 0px; text-transform: lowercase; margin-right: 5px;]So give me the drug[/style][style=overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: Arial-Narrow; font-size: 8.6pt; color: #545454; width: 300px; height: 300px; float: right; background-color: D6D6D6; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 5px; margin-bottom: 10px; border-top: 10px groove #547154; border-bottom: 10px groove #547154; padding: 5px;]The man's response didn't do much to answer Noah's question. There were plenty of things he could do and have still said that statement to where it wasn't a lie. The only thing that the bounty hunter could really conclude from the statement was that he wasn't a pirate. Had Oberon been a pirate he wouldn't beat around the bush about it and had just come out and say his occupation. Pirates were more than proud to announce what they were which always baffled Noah. Telling others what you were nearly always got you in trouble when you were a pirate unless of course you were talking to pirates. If talking to a civilian they would more than likely be afraid of you and get help. If talking to someone in the marines or a bounty hunter they would surely try and capture and turn you in unless they were a coward.
At the end of his statement, Oberon even asked if Noah agreed with him which he found to be somewhat annoying. In his mind, Noah felt like he had just entered into a mind game. If he agreed that was the same as saying he accepted the vague answer and that it was fine with him. Normally he would be okay with games considering that he did have a slightly competitive nature, unfortunately his current state of mind prevented him from wanting to play. In fact his current state of mind wanted him to skip around the bullshit and cut straight to the point. “I agree somewhat but if you want to know why I'm here I'm going to need a better answer from you rather than the bullshit you just tried to feed me.”
The comment might have come off as ruder than intended but even if he did Noah didn't care in the slightest. Oberon was the one who set himself up for that comment considering how vague he was trying to be. It wasn't like his job as whatever it was could be all that bad. Most crime related things weren't looked at as petty and non-dangerous if they weren't pirates. Everything else didn't seem like a big deal unless of course he was a stripper or something. Noah doubted that however considering that Oberon seemed somewhat displeased with the fact that Noah was shirtless.[/style]
[style=background-color: #D6d6d6; padding: 5px; border: 1px dashed #545454; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 5px; width: 110px; margin-top: -30px;][/style][style=background-color: #d6d6d6; padding: 5px; border: 1px dashed #545454; margin-left: 5px; font-family: Arial-narrow; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: undercase; width: 110px; height: 200px; font-size: 7.6pt; color: #545454; text-transform: lowercase;] words!? 390 notes!? shit post tags!? Oberon music!? The Weeknd lyrics!? Injection by Rise Against[/style] [style=font-family: Arial-narrow; font-size: 7.6pt; line-height: 10pt; color: #334433; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 3px; text-transform: uppercase; background-color: #D6D6D6; height: 10px; border-top: 1px dashed #545454; border-bottom: 1px dashed #545454; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;] credits to LIKEABOSS at ON THE EDGE[/style]
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Post by OBERON MALUS on Feb 18, 2012 15:28:03 GMT -5
▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ BORN IN A WAR OF OPPOSITE ATTRACTION TORN BY THE ARMS OF OPPOSITE DIRECTION ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪[style=width: 320px; font-face: courier new; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify;] Oberon chuckled at the mans response to his answer. His response was completely absurd and it was quite obvious he didn't understand anything Oberon spoke about. “I agree somewhat but if you want to know why I'm here I'm going to need a better answer from you rather than the bullshit you just tried to feed me.” Oberon smiled sipping another cup finishing the cup finally and placing it down on the table. He didn't find his answer vague at all but it would seem that Noah did. What was better was there was a slight tone of rudeness and hostility in the mans voice which amused Oberon quite nicely. It wasn't everyday that Oberon was able to encounter such an interesting person. Oberon would reply smoothly and calmly to his response. Ahahah Oh Mr. Noah. I do not understand what you are trying to say. There was no bullshit in my answer in anyway. You asked why I came to Karate Island. And simply I answered "I came here for money". What more do you want? I already answered your question, unless of course you wish to pry on how I plan to obtain moneyHe would stop talking and look at the man awaiting for a response. Oberon quite enjoyed mind games no matter who he was talking too. It was quite an enjoyable way to get to know the person without having to go through the awkward conversation phase. He had ruled out the man bing a marine due to his actions. If he was a marine he would be yelling and barking orders at Oberon seeing as he appeared to be a civilian. I really need another cup of tea[/style] MADE BY LOVE SOLFEGE OF OTE !
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Post by Noah Bristow on Feb 18, 2012 15:49:42 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][bg=545454][atrb=style, width: 450px; border-top: 10px groove #547154; border-bottom: 10px groove #547154][atrb=background,http://i130.photobucket.com/albums/p249/exces-sive/pattern.gif]
[style=font-family: Arial-narrow; font-size: 7.6pt; line-height: 10pt; color: #334433; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 3px; text-transform: uppercase; background-color: #D6D6D6; height: 10px; border-top: 1px dashed #545454; border-bottom: 1px dashed #545454;]Knees are weak, hands are shaking, I can't breathe[/style] [style=font-family: ConcursoModerne BTN Lt; font-weight: bold; font-size: 30pt; line-height: 14pt; color: #545454; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 0px; text-transform: lowercase; margin-right: 5px;]So give me the drug[/style][style=overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: Arial-Narrow; font-size: 8.6pt; color: #545454; width: 300px; height: 300px; float: right; background-color: D6D6D6; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 5px; margin-bottom: 10px; border-top: 10px groove #547154; border-bottom: 10px groove #547154; padding: 5px;]Mr. Noah? Oddly enough that was the part of what Oberon said that the bounty hunter focused on. It intrigued him because very rarely had he been referred to with mister in front of his name. His position in life kept most from looking up to him even though in a way he was keeping them safe. No, the citizens of the world would rather worship the marines rather than those who put the pirates away only for money. Pirates of course hated him because he was paid to imprison them, then there were the marines who felt like he was stepping on their territory. All and all once most people learned of his occupation he rarely if ever earned a mister when being addressed. He was more likely to hear something far more unpleasant and vulgar.
After his interest in being called mister faded, Noah focused on the rest of what this white haired man had said to him. In a way he was right and because of this the bounty hunter couldn't really complain. He hadn't asked him what his job was but merely implied the question or at least thought that he had implied the question. Apparently however, Oberon heard the question differently and answered in a fashion he deemed appropriate. Nothing to get upset over merely a simple miscommunication. “Fair enough. That isn't how I intended the question to be interpreted but whatever. What I meant to ask was what do you do for a living that it brought you to karate island.”[/style]
[style=background-color: #D6d6d6; padding: 5px; border: 1px dashed #545454; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 5px; width: 110px; margin-top: -30px;][/style][style=background-color: #d6d6d6; padding: 5px; border: 1px dashed #545454; margin-left: 5px; font-family: Arial-narrow; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: undercase; width: 110px; height: 200px; font-size: 7.6pt; color: #545454; text-transform: lowercase;] words!? 257 notes!? short post is short haha tags!? Oberon music!? Wiz lyrics!? Injection by Rise Against[/style] [style=font-family: Arial-narrow; font-size: 7.6pt; line-height: 10pt; color: #334433; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 3px; text-transform: uppercase; background-color: #D6D6D6; height: 10px; border-top: 1px dashed #545454; border-bottom: 1px dashed #545454; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;] credits to LIKEABOSS at ON THE EDGE[/style]
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