✪ A M E R I C A ✪ (Alfred F. Jones) ✪ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
starspangledhero) wrote2010-06-25 10:03 pm
starspangledhero) wrote2010-06-25 10:03 pm
Entry tags:
[video/action for anyone ever]
[ GOOD EVENING, MARSHALL STREET. YOUR LOBBY HAS BEEN TURNED INTO A WILD WEST SALOON BY AMERICA AND MIRIA. Perhaps an elaboration is in order.
If anyone in the complex cares to come down and figure out what all the ruckus (get it? Baccano, ruckus, shush it's funny) is about, you'll find that America and Miria have gotten it in their minds that there should be a saloon in Discedo. It's 1881 for America, and Miria is... Miria. This makes sense to them. This does not make sense to anyone else. That is okay. This is normal. So what does this all entail, exactly? Let's find out:
→ Chairs and tables of a wide variety; most likely stolen or robbed (at complete random, though hey, it might be yours. YOU'LL GET IT BACK... EVENTUALLY.)
→ Likewise for cups, glasses, and any vaguely Western decorations
→ Discedo Red Eye. The normal stuff is made from alcohol, chewing tobacco, and burnt sugar. Do you really want to know what's in the knock off? Either way, it tastes like the fires of hell.
→ Poker chips and cards. By that I mean checkerboard pieces/wood chips/whathaveyou labeled like poker chips, and whatever cards America could find. Have fun trying to win a game with this deck.
→ Banjo tied up in the corner. America stole a cow like the outlaw he is. Too bad it's his own. No one ever said he was good at this.
→ An out-of-tune piano that once belonged to Austria forever and a day ago. Why I remember this, no one knows.
For the record, America's dressed in a cowboy outfit left over from the last time Isaac left, Isaac himself is in similar (though probably fancier) attire, while Miria wears something pretty. This is Discedo and they're both still dirty but WHATEVER. IT ADDS TO THE AUTHENTICITY. The two citizens are in the background setting up the last details while America beams into the camera. ]
THE SALOON IS NOW OPEN FOR BUSINESS! That's right folks! Located right on American soil on Marshall street, brought to you by none other than me! Oh, and Isaac and Miria. They helped a lot.
I have no idea what to call it yet, but I've got alcohol and cards and... aw heck, we don't have a sheriff. Well, I can fill that role 'til a real one arrives! Dunno if that means I have to keep an eye on myself or not, but I'll get to that bridge when I cross it.
...also, England, gotta talk to ya. If you care to. That's it! Come drink and stuff!
[ He apparently thinks he shut it off. That is a lie. The video is still rolling as he sets his communicator on a table. You get a nice view of the lobby ceiling while America shouts at Isaac and Miria. Did I mention that he's a bit imperialistic too? Not as bad as the 1890s but still. ]
So I was thinkin'! Can you guys steal a building? I want another! And I'm running low on bullets and I just got over that economic depression, so I don't wanna pay that much for one. Which one has the most Americans?!
[ It ends there. God help whatever building he attempts to claim.]
[ooc: Action log for anyone and everyone interested! Threadjack anything. Feel free to claim any stupid junk as your stolen item. Or just reply to his post and call him a freak WHATEVER WORKS.]
If anyone in the complex cares to come down and figure out what all the ruckus (get it? Baccano, ruckus, shush it's funny) is about, you'll find that America and Miria have gotten it in their minds that there should be a saloon in Discedo. It's 1881 for America, and Miria is... Miria. This makes sense to them. This does not make sense to anyone else. That is okay. This is normal. So what does this all entail, exactly? Let's find out:
→ Chairs and tables of a wide variety; most likely stolen or robbed (at complete random, though hey, it might be yours. YOU'LL GET IT BACK... EVENTUALLY.)
→ Likewise for cups, glasses, and any vaguely Western decorations
→ Discedo Red Eye. The normal stuff is made from alcohol, chewing tobacco, and burnt sugar. Do you really want to know what's in the knock off? Either way, it tastes like the fires of hell.
→ Poker chips and cards. By that I mean checkerboard pieces/wood chips/whathaveyou labeled like poker chips, and whatever cards America could find. Have fun trying to win a game with this deck.
→ Banjo tied up in the corner. America stole a cow like the outlaw he is. Too bad it's his own. No one ever said he was good at this.
→ An out-of-tune piano that once belonged to Austria forever and a day ago. Why I remember this, no one knows.
For the record, America's dressed in a cowboy outfit left over from the last time Isaac left, Isaac himself is in similar (though probably fancier) attire, while Miria wears something pretty. This is Discedo and they're both still dirty but WHATEVER. IT ADDS TO THE AUTHENTICITY. The two citizens are in the background setting up the last details while America beams into the camera. ]
THE SALOON IS NOW OPEN FOR BUSINESS! That's right folks! Located right on American soil on Marshall street, brought to you by none other than me! Oh, and Isaac and Miria. They helped a lot.
I have no idea what to call it yet, but I've got alcohol and cards and... aw heck, we don't have a sheriff. Well, I can fill that role 'til a real one arrives! Dunno if that means I have to keep an eye on myself or not, but I'll get to that bridge when I cross it.
...also, England, gotta talk to ya. If you care to. That's it! Come drink and stuff!
[ He apparently thinks he shut it off. That is a lie. The video is still rolling as he sets his communicator on a table. You get a nice view of the lobby ceiling while America shouts at Isaac and Miria. Did I mention that he's a bit imperialistic too? Not as bad as the 1890s but still. ]
So I was thinkin'! Can you guys steal a building? I want another! And I'm running low on bullets and I just got over that economic depression, so I don't wanna pay that much for one. Which one has the most Americans?!
[ It ends there. God help whatever building he attempts to claim.]
[ooc: Action log for anyone and everyone interested! Threadjack anything. Feel free to claim any stupid junk as your stolen item. Or just reply to his post and call him a freak WHATEVER WORKS.]
no subject
I'll considering staying for a bit longer, but not for your sake or anything. I need to freshen up before I go back down.
no subject
Awesome! I need someone on the lookout for lawmen or those other gangs. Don't let 'em get me in my sleep.
no subject
Why are you even on the lookout for coppers?
no subject
They're already angry at me 'bout my exploits with Jesse James, now I think I made 'em even angrier with the Lincoln County war. They'll capture me and send me back to my new boss and he'll say, "America! Stop playing Robin Hood and stop letting China come over to California all the time! Are you listening to me?" Then he'll nag me that I spend too much time on the east coast dealing with industry.
[ Now grinning excitedly at England. ]
But that's where my future and fortune lies. I just know it!
no subject
Stop abandoning your duties as a country. Jesse James and Billy the Berk are disgusting influences and I forbid you to ever fraternize with them again.
[ YOU KNOW THAT ONE GIF WHERE SAM SQUISHES THAT COLLEGE STUDENT IN TALL TALES? THAT IS ENGLAND ]
no subject
I'm already outta Jesse's gang and it's Billy the Kid. Besides, what does it matter to you as long as I keep up trade and industry?
[ YOU MEAN THIS ONE?
no subject
It doesn't matter to me. It should matter to you because it's your reputation that's at stake here. Do you really want to be known as a freeloading, chav country like France?
no subject
[ GRABBING ENGLAND AND SHOVING HIS FACE IN AMERICA'S CHEST. He smells like leather, tobacco, alcohol, and horses. I don't know why the last one, just run with it. Sorry if he breaks your nose in the process. ]
no subject
You smell like a drunk who spent the night sleeping in the sewers.
no subject
[ DELAYED REACTIONS, HE'S NOT LETTING GO. I'M NOT EVEN SURE HE'S AWARE THAT HE'S BEING SQUEEZED BY WEE PETITE BABBY FISTS. ]
no subject
[ grabbing America by the ear and TUGGING ]
no subject
[ Okay geeze ow, finally letting go and clutching his poor ear. ]
Ow!
no subject
[ FINALLY LETTING GO and looking a bit proud ]
It's too late for you.
no subject
[ Now attempting to hoist himself upright to prove England wrong. ]
no subject
Go to sleep already, git. I'm not staying here all night to baby sit your overgrown arse.
no subject
Can't sleep. Tell me a story.
no subject
[ and after a short pause ]
... Maybe. But only because I'm fond of reading stories before bedtime, and it's certainly not for any stupid nostalgic reasons.
no subject
[ Guess who saw Princess Bride on tv today. ]
no subject
St. George, on his charge Bayard, journeyed untill
he reached the sea where he boarded a ship bound
for Egypt. He eventually arrived in a land that was
deathly silent in the day and with a brooding
darkness at night.
[ THANK GOD FOR COPY PASTE ]
no subject
no subject
It was here that St. George met a poor hermit.
The hermit told him “You have come at a terrible time.
Our land has been ravaged by a cruel dragon who
demands the sacrifice of an innocent maiden
every day. He has threatened to send a plague
and scorch the earth so that no man or beast may
live. For twenty four years he has terrified our
land, and tomorrow it is the beautiful Sabia,
daughter of the King, who must die”.
no subject
But the princess can't die! She's gotta be saved!
no subject
[ AND ENGLAND STARTS MAKING UP HIS OWN VERSION ]
He explained the King had promised to give
his daughter in marriage, and the crown of
Egypt, to any brave knight who would kill the
dragon.
The next day he slept in late. He rose at noon
and buckled his armour, laced his helmet and sharpened his sword.
He mounted his trusted steed Sherman and rode into
the Valley of the Dragon.
no subject
no subject
Soon the brave knight was at the dragon’s lair and
shouted for him to come out and fight. The dragon
let out a mighty roar louder than thunder and spat
venom from its mouth; its wings were burning
flames and its eyes empty and cold.
From shoulder to tale it was forty foot long, its
body covered in scales harder than brass with a
great golden belly. Its size and appearance would
have made any other man tremble, but St. George
steeled himself and prepared to fight.
St. George then saw the dragon had been injured, and
and previously fought an even nobler and stronger opponent,
St. Arthur. Though St. Arthur had put up a great fight,
he could not vanquish the dragon on his own.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)