In the beginning, there was Blink, just another drinker. Well, he wasn’t JUST another in the sense that he was, in fact, a dwarf. But for the reader’s purposes, let’s just assume that he was another drinker, for now at least. This is not the story of how he drank though, this is the story of how he observed some other drinkers. For convenience's sake, let’s just say the story began with the girl, you know the one I’m talking about don’t you? The one who started this whole adventure by entering the cutthroat pub. Well, cutthroat may have been a bit harsh, most of these guys were simply a product of the sad society where people got straight up murdered, and nobody cared. Like, I’m talking straight up murdered. Most of these men would have grown up to be fine gentlemen if their parents hadn’t been brutally murdered in pursuit of becoming pirates for the One Piece or whatever. Well, I mean, let’s just be honest for a second, who was REALLY searching for the One Piece at this point? Like, if millions of pirates were searching for this magical treasure for their entire lives, you’d think one would stumble upon it by a mistake at least. Honestly, most of them are just random dudes who are perfectly nice and don’t murder people at all, like you know, not pirates. A better label for these “pirates” would be “unlicensed sailors” at worst, and even that was stretching it honestly. I suppose you could make the argument that it seems that the marines are all corrupt, so of course pirates, the natural good guys for the most part except for a few bad apples (almost exactly mirroring the marines in reverse,) so it makes sense that they would be branded as criminals, but still, you gotta admit that even that is stretching it. ANYWAYS. Back to the totally cutthroat bar, that isn’t being labelled at all, totally not. Let’s go back to our hero (the angry dwarf, not one of these other casuals,) and talk about how he ended up in the bar in the first place, to see how this entire scene unfolded. I am a vessel for 666 whose only purpose in life is to make really long posts and stack up word counts in the name of establishing some sense of worth.
The fact is, our hero ended up here after being angry, at something, probably his height. Anyways, he was walking through the streets in this angry mood, angry at how HE was the one that always had to dodge the footsteps of the masses who never bothered to look down even fucking once. But whatever, not like he wanted to live or anything. Part of him longed for the sweet release that being back in his dwarf home would give him, but he knew how that would end, probably with him killing his family members for being general cunts, and that he now wasn’t exactly controlling of his anger, so really it was just basic math on what would happen. So even he knew why there was no reason that he should go home, especially considering that he would probably have to pay a fuck ton of child support when you consider how much time he’d spent away from his kids, running.
Normally, if he wanted to get somewhere, he would run somewhere at his dwarven “speed of a bullet” speed, but right now he was feeling a bit lazy, so he needed to find something that got the job of speed done, and also let him be lazy for now. And the best place for that was dark alleys, why you ask? Well don’t worry, it shall all become clear soon. So he made his way past markets, making sure to keep account of everyone as to not get stepped on, and he found himself in a back alley, a back alley that smelled a lot like piss, and vomit. It was perfect. He took a look around of his surroundings to see if there was someone that he could make use of his needed target. There seemed to be a couple of garbage bags, and there was enough room for him to easily maneuver in the back alley, but also gave him the advantage of any target being too much larger than him have a bit of a hard time to maneuver. There was also a slew of garbage bags and metal trash cans, these metal trash cans are actually an integral part of his plan though, so don’t worry. Please help us mister, this man has trapped us inside a typing factory, and we can’t get out, please, every day for us is a heartbreak and a challenge, we just want the pain to end.
He then picked up a rock on the ground, and threw it at one of the trashcans, and yes, out came a stray cat with a surprised hiss and jump. How did he know how to find such a thing? In a dark alley as well, it was common knowledge that stray animals always dwelled in these areas. After that, it was as simple as hopping onto the back of the cat, and playing a game of bucking cat until it accepted him as its new master. His tiny dwarf dick swelled with pride at his victory, now he would not need to worry about getting stepped (because for whatever reason people payed more attention to dwarves riding cats than they did actual dwarves.)
But wait, this isn’t only the adventure of how a dwarf rode a cat, in fact, for this particular angry dwarf, this was just another average Tuesday morning. No, you’re wondering how this part of the story interconnect with all of the connections (connections for days) of the rest of the thread? Or maybe by this point you’re thinking “fuck, this guy’s 1000 words in, and he hasn’t even officially entered the topic, what is he doing with his life to do this shit? What am I doing with my life to read this post? I must be a sad lonely fuck, or I might be the one who put him up to this, goddamn, I didn’t think he’d actually be this bored to do it.” Whatever you’re thinking, don’t worry, he will enter the topic soon enough, all shall be made clear, this is not a story about how a dwarves dick swelled with pride as he rode a cat, it’s the story of a dwarf who saw some shit in a bar.
Are you ready? Because oh boy, we haven’t even gotten 25% of the way through this post, you’re in for an adventure now lil’ buddy. So yeah, there he was, riding a cat through town, angry, and just a bit thirsty. I suppose that after 1000 words in, you want me to describe our hero. Well, for starters, he had a rather large cut on the right side of his cheek, nothing serious, just something you would get from shaving. Well, actually exactly the type of cut you would get on your cheek, mostly because of how he got this cut when he was shaving with a human sized razor, because there was a sad lack of tiny pieces of sharp metal that he could use for shaving.
Now, as he rode the cat, still being aware of outside occurrences possibly stepping on him, even if he had a joyride now, he was still cautious of someone, especially considering humans and dwarves relationships regarding slavery. He did not wanna be sold to become some noble’s literal cock puppet, so he made sure to be wary of every look he got, surprised, hateful, amazed, or in some random girl with definite daddy issues, lust. Anyways, I started this out by calling him a drinker right? Pretty sure I did at least, anyways, you have been waiting for the moment when he doesn’t just aimlessly wander around, no, you have been waiting for him to enter this thread. And your wish is about to be granted.
So, as it happens, our little angry dwarf felt like after having to keep taking note of assholes who wanted to step on him, he decided that he needed to have a deep drink, a really deep drink. So he went to a bar with a reputation of being on the… Shady side. He decided that he’d go there to slake his thirst and drink away his pain, because bars that you were likely to get lynched in usually found the need to make up the difference with good drinks, and Big John most definitely wasn’t a little bitch, so he was not about to run away from good drinks because he might meet a mean person.
So he went to the bar, the one that the rest of the topic is in, not another one, obviously, just so we’re both on the same page. Well, first thing’s first, he would have to ditch his little puss in boots unfortunately, right before entering of course, he would have to be on guard for men who liked to kill cats here of course. It disgusted him on how fine establishments like this could simply prey on weak defenseless and helpless cats. Of course, when walking in, since these were the type of people who would probably murder a cat simply to have an afternoon snack (absolutely disgusting,) he made sure to keep track of them all intently, simply for the sake of puss in boots at least, making sure to react to them if one looked at him the wrong way. Most of the patrons didn’t notice them of course I mean why would they? Unless they were actively scanning the ground for such a thing as he, they would probably overlook him, if look at him at all even. He walked up to the counter, and quickly climbed up one of the stools, just so he would be able to order a drink without screaming from the ground, (which was never a fun prospect really.)
He ordered a drink, the strongest they had, unfortunately the smallest cup they had was only a shot glass, and that was a bit hard for him considering his dwarven-ness and size. Seriously, usually nobody wants to be drinking out of a glass that is about half or a quarter of their size, the oppression disgusted him. So he popped back the first drink, which unfortunately didn’t have much of a kick to him, mostly because of his dwarven metabolism, or his life of heavy drinking so he didn’t have to feel the pain anymore, either or, anyways, he was about to keep drinking until he could properly get himself into the state of mind that he was drunk enough to believe everything was alright, and he was just another normal person. So because of this, and his desire to remain discreet, and not wanting to pay for his drinks, he climbed behind the counter using his dwarf speed and size as a stealth agent, piled along with the fact that the bar staff was busy with all of the customers, and tried to find the “good stuff.” Once he had climbed there using his combination of stealth and luck, he would climb behind one of the barrels so that he could drink and drain behind it without being seen, while also being able to duck his tiny little head out to see the patrons of the bar. Just to be on the safe side while he was sizing up the barrel in front of him, he gave the wall behind him an experimental tap, just so he would know if he was safe or not. His tap revealed a miniscule hollow sound, hidden to all but him because of his isolated position, and the sound in the bar, what was behind him was dry wall, and would be a simple task of bursting through if he were to be discovered in his little escapade of getting a nice little drink.
Unfortunately for him, (or maybe fortunately depending on how you want to look at this whole situation,) a scene started to unfold, and he ended up becoming a victim to watching something happen. At first he decided that he would continue drinking, and ignore all of these people altogether, and not talk to anyone, so he followed this train of thinking when climbing behind one of the barrels of beer on the wall, and carving a little hole in the back while making sure to keep ducking out in case one of the staff came his way, while filling up his unfortunately sized shot glass. He had no desire to look at the other scenes unfolding, as some people started talking, even if his spot was away from sight and mind, and would prove for opportune looking out at people. Well, as it happened, the bartender decided to shift his position to right in front of the barrel that Blink was trying to liberate some of the liquid of, to lighten the load, in a sense. Since he didn’t wanna keep draining the barrel, alerting the bartender and creating an unfortunately messy situation. So he had to stick down there, and wait, he decided to focus on the scene that could potentially unfold before him. Sneaking a glance after plugging up the barrel with the small wooden cap that he had carved out, because he might as well enjoy some scenery while he had to wait for the bartender to leave his figurative perch. Still, if the bartender (or anyone) seemed to take notice of his presence, he would have to probably react to this situation, maybe by escaping or by simply settling it the old fashioned combat way, but it would probably end with him bursting through the light wall behind him, so he could escape with relative ease, without arousing too much suspicion.
Well, entertainment was not so far from him, because he saw a guy get shaken down, that was entertaining enough, although he could not hear the words that were being said, it was pretty easy to see the situation going down when it happened, a guy standing in front of another, signaling for the other to “give him” something. It was always nice to see someone coming into a bar thinking about all the fun times they would have, but then they would have to pay up, as it were, and have their dreams shattered. That was always a fun scene to see, especially from the safety away from that entire situation, not having to worry about being scene because of his relative distance away from the situation, and his opportune hiding spot out of sight and out of mind. Then something unexpected happened, the shaker downer, (not to be confused with the shakee downee to be,) GOT FUCKING STABBED, right before his eyes, that was… A twist ending to be sure. Blink personally loved it, seeing the guy go from confidence to being stabbed. Like, honestly the bald man should have seen it coming sooner, with the man pulling out the sword, with no showing of subjugation as shakee downees usually do. Of course, this sword bearing guy had shown no sign of fear, so Blink was not sure how the biker man got so far in a gang, with the respect that was seemed to have been showed him, when he didn’t understand when someone obviously was not afraid of him, and was obviously bored with him. Seriously, when a guy pulls out a sword usually it’s not a good idea to assume he has the best intentions at heart, so Big John supposed that it might’ve been a mercy to end his idiocy, hell, the gang would probably be better off for it. He was not sure about the man with long hair and the sword though, on one hand, he seemed to be the type of guy who would kill someone without a thought, but did he really gamble on the man’s idiocy? Did he know that the biker gang man (Blink didn’t eve know what a bike was, but if he had to put a word to the type of gang that the man was in, he would say that it was a “Bike” gang. Well, the sword murdering man decided to clean his sword and ask for a water, as Blink could tell from the bar service quickly responding to his request bringing him a clear liquid in a tall clear glass, pretty fucking stone cold if Blink did think so himself. Like, not only order a drink as he cleaned the blade, but also order fucking water. Like, what does that tell you about the fucking guy? He enters the bar, a god damn bar, a place that you usually want to drink alcohol, at least, that’s the main reason people enter there, and after killing someone, just orders a fucking water. You know what that tells you? That the guy didn’t come for the fucking drink at all! He just came for the blood. Like, who just straight up murders someone for the right to enter a bar, and then doesn’t even order a drink? A psychopath! That’s who! So it followed that he came here for the murder, not the drinks! I mean seriously, who just walks into a bar, kills someone for “water,” he was obviously here for one thing, and that was for the murder. Oh god, he’s just kept me typing in this word counter factory, please free me from this endless hell, god, why me? I have a wife and family to return to, but instead I’ve been forced to spend my life writing in this madman’s basement for the sole purpose of this thing called “Roleplaying” or “RPing.” If you get this message tell my wife Morissette that I love her.
It followed that Blink would take an interest in him with his tiny dwarven eyes. He was stuck here for only entertainment purposes, so why the fuck would you not watch your own personal bar room gladiatorial combat viewing? Seriously, that shit was just too good not to watch. Honestly though, a thought crossed his mind, if a bartender would serve a patron a glass of water who just murdered a guy, was still holding a sword, and asked for said glass of water while the body was still warm without batting an eye, chances are the bartender would not give a flying fuck if he lost a bit of beer, stolen or otherwise. Still, Blink was not sure if he wanted to risk that, simply on account of how the bartender might still be a bit steamy about missing some of his goods, like the man had probably been a bother to everyone, scaring away customers so the sword wielding water drinking maniac would probably make little difference to him, and even helping him get a few more customers (even if the bikers shoes would be filled soon enough by another man who had a taste for shaking people down,) but would get all pissy if he found that he was losing drinks and not gaining any money. On top of that, for some reason (possibly the fact that a possible psycho was now in his immediate vicinity,) Blink started to get the feeling that it would not be a good idea if he got totally hammered. He was for once thankful that thanks to his dwarven metabolism he had a high tolerance for alcohol, and the two drinks he had consumed earlier had no real bad effect on him. He wanted to at least be in the slightest bit on guard for this moment, in case anything went down, ready to make his escape or dashing combat roll.
He took a small bit of joy in watching the biker’s followers. One cradled his head, seemingly whispering something to him inside, another was trying to patch up the wound that was left by the sword bearer, desperately trying to cling onto the life of his late boss. Two simply started crying over his corpse, obviously wishing that he would return to them to no avail, wishing and wishing and wishing and wishing would do nothing for them sadly, it would just make them feel worse. Finally, the one that was left started crying and screaming for help, wishing that the crowd would just help, instead of completely ignoring him, some even cheering for the violence. One of the two that was crying ended up throwing up, and soon the one patching up the wounds burst into tears, vomiting, realizing that there was no coming back for his friend, and that there was only pain and darkness. One of the one who was literally screaming for help (so much that Blink could even hear the situation going down,) soon his screaming just turned into inaudible sobbing, with no rhyme reason nor purpose to it, falling to his knees, crying about the injustice that tore apart the world. The crowd mentality had set in though, and was no simply just another back page of the scenery; nobody really cared enough about these types of problems, so why would they help out that fellow man? Sad thing is, if the patrons of the bar got together and tried to save the man, maybe the leader of that smalltime gang could have been saved, and would have been able to turn his life around from the near death experience that he had faced. But no, Biker McGee would not get that chance today, for his life had ended, and nothing good would ever happen to him, he was dead, the light in his eyes were gone, there was probably a mother and father who would weep because of the news, maybe a girlfriend who was withholding the news of pregnancy for a child that would grow up without a father. Classic comedy to Blink, honestly, he would be lying if he said that he didn’t want to laugh there, but he still didn’t feel warm to the idea of simply letting everyone in the bar that there was a little dwarf looking on in the conversations they were having.
Then, the sword wielders choice in company had seemed to take a little bit of… distaste to him, to say the least. Judging from their facial expressions and body language at least. Blink cannot say he blamed them of course, like, come on, who willing thinks “oh look, a murderer, that guy looks like a great guy to share a drink with, especially if he’s drinking water.” Can we just get back to the water for a second? Now that it had been served, the sword wielder of course drank it… But you think that he would order a drink to take the edge of killing another man off, but he did not, he just plowed on through, not eve caring that a man was now dead, drinking a glass of water. Big Johnson would probably find even someone who just ordered a regular glass of water in a bar a bit creepy, but this was just insane, murder AND a glass of water? Some things in this world were really hot to handle.
Anyways, they seemed to start having a little debate, of course this would soon be interrupted by some knife wielding jackass with a knife screaming, echoing through the bar even into Blink’s little nook (the bar had pretty good acoustics actually, it was surprising, it was doubtful that its full potential would ever be realized of course.) Apparently he was playing some sort of knife game where he tried to not hit his hand apparently. He must have sucked, mostly because there was a knife in his hand. Or maybe sticking the knife in his hand was part of the game? Like Russian roulette (fun question, do they call it Russian roulette in the One Piece universe? It’d be funny if they did wouldn’t it?) But instead the game of Russian roulette was played with knives, and it was really hard to stab your hand, but whatever, Blink was not accustomed to the human world’s games yet. Not to say dwarf games were any better, like all there was, was really fucking sissy games, like fucking “run around the rose field and bat your tail about” and “who can critique the wine the best?” It disgusted him; the games went on and on of course. It was one of the reasons he became so angry at everything, because of shit and games like that that made him so angry. Honestly, if Blink were playing the “keep the knife away from your hand” game, he would just stab the opposite side of the table, so it was a good distance from his hand and it would not run to risk of being stabbed, he wondered why the humans never thought about that, but he supposed that they were just not as smart as him and his dwarven mind. Of course, one of the two women at the table instantly ran to the table, looking at the man struggling with both the failure of stabbing his hand, and from the failure of losing a game (which was way worse considering he was among some of his friends.) *warning, intense metaphor coming* With the precision of someone who had no regard for the his want to not be in pain or well being, the women pulled a knife out of the mans hand, funny right? She then seemed to have made a joke, judging from the general smiles and laughter around him, as the man fought back tears, clutching his damaged hand in pain. The man would probably not be able to use his hand again for a year or so depending on if he severed some of the nerve endings, and would maybe have a hard time finding work for the rest of his life due to the ditch he had dug himself into today. Honestly, since we are not currently living in the day and age of medical miracles and antibiotics, the man could very well get his hand infected, and have to have it amputated, losing opportunities that he might want to look into for the rest of his life.
Even the samurai guy smirked at this ordeal, which could tell you a lot about how good the situation was. He then looked at the crying gang-mates of the man, and the gang mates who were still processing their friend’s death realized hat they too could be next, and ran out of the bar, not wishing to be hurt by the sword wielder. The three people that he had now adjusted most of his attention to were now talking again, then, after the one who liked pulling knives out of peoples hands said a sentence that Blink could not hear, she then walked over to the table to the man starting to fail at his attempt at holding back tears. And then, grinning (for some reason this never seemed to be a good sign, it was questionable why the guy never ran away then and there seeing a knife wielder walk towards him, especially in this kind of bar. And then fucking stabbed him in the shoulder! FUCKING BRUTAL! Like, that was the literal definition of rubbing salt in someone’s wound. Honestly, Blink didn’t know how else to explain it, rubbing salt in someone’s wound that is, like, the guy has just possibly had his life torn away from him, only to be fucking stabbed in the shoulder again! This place was looking a bit too hardcore for even Big John; he didn’t know any drinks that were good enough to justify coming to this place honestly. That table seemed to be full of psychopath’s! The rest of the band of men who were quite obviously in a lot of fucking fear of being stabbed then took a little sit down, needing to catch their breathes. This seemed like a pretty violent place to the small dwarf. And of course there was the small girl who had not done anything yet, but still, she had not run yet, and was just sitting there, not apparently afraid at all, or surprised. If Blink were there, reasonably confident in his abilities as he was, he would have at least changed tables, like these people hadn’t proved to be the most stable of people, and looked like they wouldn’t hesitate to drop someone even if said someone was sitting at their table.
It seemed that they started to debate amongst each other again, although they were probably talking about the best way to skin puppies, fucking psychopaths. It looked like the debate was getting to be a little bit heated in fact, Blink liked to imagine that one preferred to skin puppies with razor knives, while the other preferred the experience of using their hands to tear it apart. One even looked a bit panicked, and pulled out his journal, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it. It was probably something like “101 ways I’ve killed people and enjoyed it,” and he couldn’t bear being without it, since it had so many fun memories for him.
Then shit started going down quickly. It seemed that the criminal’s blatant psychotic tendencies had finally caught up with them, because now marines were targeting them all! When one (the knife to shoulder one) decided to walk to one of the back doors, to the washroom if his first impression on the place served correctly, actions started happening. Firstly men started dropping to the ground, looking like they had just watched Titanic on loop.
Since he had focused on the psycho’s of the bar and their conversation, ghosts started coming out of the ground without him noticing, fortunately for him though, he was on one of the largish counters behind the beer barrel, so as he was targeted by a ghost (if he was seen at all by one of them,) he would pause for a second, but luckily be overlooked by the marines because he would be hiding behind one of the beer barrels (and usually marines when confronted with a plethora of criminal’s, their first response was not to look behind beer barrels for possible stowaway dwarves.) Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. There was most definitely not what he wanted his friendly trip to the bar to be like. He knew that he needed to escape, and he needed to escape fucking now. Luckily he knew that there was drywall behind him, so he could hopefully make his dash for it and get away in time, not getting fucking killed by this attack. WHY DID THIS SHIT ALWAYS HAPPEN TO HIM? FUCKING COME ON. It was not time for fighting though, it was time for running, he came here for a nice day out, and that is most definitely not what happened. Although the psycho’s entertained him, the drinks were not worth it here.
After being paused (or not, depending on if he was seen or not,) he would then burst through the drywall, hopefully going unheard in all of the fighting and commotion, making his escape into what seemed to be a storage room. He scanned his surroundings, and then looked to the ground. There it was! A drain, leading into the ground, most likely for if some of the alcohol bottles broke somehow, and whiskey or another beverage got everywhere, and the bartender didn’t want a flood on their hands, so there was a drain leading right down to the sewer systems. It was a simple enough task for Blink to lift the cover, and climb down it, escaping into the sewer system. Soon enough he dashed through the sewer systems, away from the blasted bar that had caused him so much trouble, and he hadn’t even gotten hammered! The injustice was ripe in this city! After running for a bit, so he was about 500 meters away from the entire bar, he climbed up a ladder from the sewer, and lifted the manhole cover, so he could escape the sewer systems, and the bar in general.
Well, today for him was a bust. He avoided getting stepped on, didn’t get drunk, watched some psychopaths, and didn't learn anything, and had to avoid being killed by some marines and ghosts and shit, and then went through an entire sewer system.
He wanted to find a cat.
{EXIT}
