Hi, my name is Shu. I guess that's pretty obvious though. I mean, this is the first post of an RP called Shu's Quest (awesome name, by the way), and there's even a little header up there that says my name at the top of the post. I guess that means I actually get to be the main character for once. I've always wanted to be one. I'm usually that guy on the sidelines, making snarky comments and dying before the RP is over. Sometimes I'm a good guy, sometimes I'm a bad guy, but I'm never THE guy. That slot usually goes to someone much more boring selected by destiny or something.
So, you might be asking yourself, which of the guys in this scene am I? Oh wait, I haven't even described the scene yet. I'm usually in third person, you're gonna have to cut me a break. Anyways, here it is; it's a pub, or a tavern. You know, the kind of place this thing usually starts, and besides the bartender (spoilers: I'm not the bartender) there are five of us trying to enjoy this swill they call ale. None of us know each other, or at least, I don't know any of them, they're all sitting at different tables, so I figure none of them know each other.
There's this big brute with an axe strapped to his back, doesn't look like he could string two words together to save his life. He's dressed fancier than a barbarian should be though, like he's got something more going on underneath that unibrow then he's letting on at first. Or maybe he robbed a big and tall store. Hard to say these days, and ain't no one asking a guy that big with an axe that bloody where he shops for shirts.
Sitting at another table, almost back to back with the behemoth, this elf is practicing moving the salt and pepper shakers around. It's not the best magic in the world, but you can tell he's been practicing hard, and he wants to be the best some day. He's got a future, unless someone cuts him down first. Makes you wonder why he took his eyes off the giant with the battleaxe not three feet from him. I guess being good with magic doesn't automatically make you decent at any kind of common sense.
At a spot alone in the corner, watching the whole room, barely touching his brew, a guy juggling while sitting at his table, drinking his beer at the same time. It's obvious he's some kind of performer, or at least was. He's got some knives strapped to his chest, though. So maybe these days he's something else. I guess everybody's something else since the war though. Ain't too many people who're still what they used to be. Whatever he is, though, he don't seem to mind. He's got a big stupid grin on his face, the kind you want to smack off.
There's a man alone at the bar, he has a full head of dark red hair, almost crimson. He carries two sheathed katanas at his sides, and he looks calm but prepared. His eyes have been quietly absorbing the scene since he got in. He looked like he was waiting on someone. Clearly not someone to be messed with. When he took a sip with one hand, he had the other on his sword. He was clearly never to be caught off guard. Probably slept with one eye open, or upside down, or something. He'd clearly seen enough to know even your friends could be your enemies.
Then there was this young guy, not a lot more then a pup. He had that look of wide eyed wonder of a guy who'd just set foot in his first pub, before he realized they were pretty much all just dives. Stupid kid, really. He had some crappy sword on his back, probably all he could get out in whatever podunk village he came from. Another runt out here to turn the tides of battle, to reclaim what was lost, to fix the wrongs, and all that jazz. He had a big smile on his face. The look of a guy looking for companions, traveling mates. And he figured the pub would be the best place to go to do it.
So, figured out which one I am, yet? You probably worked out I'm not the bruiser. Oh well, if you ain't worked it out yet, I guess it could be more fun to keep trying to work it out on your own. So hey, keep reading.
So this kid, he walks up to the bar and orders some ale. He kinda drops his voice an octave to sound older (a rookie mistake), but the bartender doesn't seem to care lots, as long as the kid has money. This little pub has always been good about not asking questions, if it wasn't so dirty and depressing, there'd probably be a lot of kids in here, asking for drinks and thinking they were cool for getting their alcohol dependencies started before their other sad friends. Kids, always trying to rush forward and grow up. Until one day they realize they should have been holding on, running back even.
The swordsman takes quick measure of the rookie, of the rookie's blade, of his stance, all that, and measures him up as being no threat. A lot of assassin's try and pretend they're someone useless, get the drop on someone. This kid ain't one of them, though. Too young. Has his sword hanging from a hard to reach place. in any close quarters fight he'd be dead before he managed to pull it out on anyone of any skill. This was quickly confirmed when the kid broke into speech, almost falling over his own words fawning at the swordsman's blades.
I watched with more interest then I let on as the kid made a speech about how he needed someone like the swordsman to help fight for his cause, bring the world back, save his village and his girl. I guess I just spoiled it. I'm not the kid or the swordsman either. I only spared them a bit of attention before going back to what I was doing. The kid seemed unable to convince the swordsman of anything, and in fact got some laughs from both the swordsman and the brute. He looked almost ready to leave, not to give up on his journey, but to try somewhere else. He seemed to resolve himself after a while though. After some inner monologue filled motivation, no doubt, and he came to sit down at the table in the corner, to talk to the juggling man.
This surprised me, I figured he'd have tried the mage first. They looked to be about the same age, and his skills were decent but not over the top, yet improving. It was obvious he wasn't going to ask the brute. Besides joining in with the swordsman in laughing, the kid gave him a pretty wide berth on his way to the juggler. Turns out he at least had the common sense to avoid the scary looking guy. He seemed to deserve a little more credit than the amount I gave him when he walked into the pub. Not lots more, but still.
The juggler barely made any eye contact with the kid. Not because he was busy focusing on the juggling, in fact, that seemed to come as naturally to him as breathing. More because he seemed wholly uninterested in whatever offer was being laid out before him. In my defense, I'd heard this same story so many times before. Oh damnit, I let it slip early. Oh well, I'm the juggler. Well, y'know, people don't call me the Juggler. Some call me the Jester. But they're usually just the ones who don't know my name is Shu. Well,there's more to it then that, but I generally just go by Shu.
So this kid sits down at my table, and he starts telling me how he's going to right wrongs, fix injustices, save kittens from falling trees, the whole heroic nine yards. He's real enthusiastic about it all, like he's going on a camping trip. Like the road is going to be lined with gold bars and prostitutes. I'm not going to lie. I'm not finding this a particularly intriguing proposition. But still, I haven't had any work in a while... I figure I might give it a shot, until I ask what it pays, and he reveals he doesn't have very much money on him. I almost drop my juggling balls right then and there in pure anger. What is this kid trying to do? Is he trying to hire me with good intentions? Does he think I care if the country has been beaten down and bloodied? This kid is clueless, and I have half a mind to end his journey right then and there, but I already have enough people out there looking for me, relatives or friends of people I've killed. Not many, but you have to realize, even the most insignificant person out there has someone that cares about them. Not me, but I specifically made it that way.
Deciding I don't need any more enemies just yet, I put the juggling balls away and try and let the kid down easy.I go on about how I've got a job lined up already, how I'm not much of a traveling companion, and how he should probably ask that mage over there, cause he looked to be a handy guy to have around, whereas I'm not much of a fighter. I don't know why I was being so gentle. Maybe he reminded me of me when I was a kid. Maybe I just wished I ever had that spark.
The kid headed over to the mage and started talking animatedly about this same quest he'd tried to sell two others on in the last five minutes. This time he seemed to at least have the full attention of his target though, in fact, the mage had started to agree before Shu had noticed it. The two runts gave a uniform glance his way mid conversation, without breaking stride, or calling attention to him beyond that in any fashion. It was almost nothing, but Shu had seen too many almost nothings turn into something.
Too late, though, the blast knocks me into the back wall, and the table into me, which just puts that part of me further into the wall. All eyes are on me now. The bartender and the brute look outright flabbergasted, the swordsman walks over to the two at the table and congratulates them. This was just a big set up. Turns out, or at least, I'm pretty sure, I'm in no condition to actually ask right now. This noble that I stole from last night, he got my identity out of the guy that gave me the job in the first place, and decided to hunt me down using the swordsman. But the swordsman heard of me, and knew I'd put up a fight if he walked within 15 feet of me. So he used the kids. One to enchant the little magic bomb and set it off, one to get it to me without me going into defensive battle mode. The kid who left it for me really looked different right now. I guess it's true, ain't no one what they used to be any more. The world is a real different place. Maybe I should have gone on a quest to fix it all. maybe kids wouldn't grow up like that.
Then, there was the mage, at least he looked genuinely sad about me dying. Guess he just needed the cash really bad. I still wasn't going to be his bestest friend or anything. But really, I wouldn't have to worry about friends much longer...
Wait! This is supposed to be my RP! The name of the RP is Shu's Quest, damnit! How could I die in the first post? This is bullshit! What the fffuuuu...
As the blood loss forced Shu into unconsciousness, his last thoughts were of calling a lawyer and suing someone over this bs. The two halves of him, separated by the force of the table being blown into him were both limp now. He wasn't walking away from this in more ways then one.
Edited by mr_e_s, 23 June 2010 - 09:55 PM.