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BROGAN

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Mar 11th, 2013
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  1. You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
  2. You and the stranger both like Roleplay.
  3. Stranger: (I'm a 16 year old neko boy. I have dark brown hair that skirts over the tops of my, slightly lighter, eyes. I'm tall for a neko, about 5'2.) We live in a world where nekos are subordinate to humans, and sometimes sold as pets. I'm owned by a local cafe/brothel. You walk in and take a seat. I approach the table and say "Hello, sir, I'm Fente, and I'll be your waiter today. Other services are listed on the back of the menu." I hand you your menu, and wait for your order. (Continue?)
  4. You: Reading
  5. You: Reading over the menu, I mutter under my breath ''cant decide'' placing it on the table, i turn my head to look at you with my piercing blue eyes behind a mop of black hair. "What do you recommend?"
  6. Stranger: I stare into your eyes, my cheeks reddening "Um..."
  7. You: "Come on, i dot have all day you know." I bark frustratedly before sighing. "Very well atleast tell me you serve mead here, bring me a mug."
  8. Stranger: I nod "Sorry, sir!" I bow, and hurry to the kitchen. I few seconds later I place the mug infront of you "Anything else for sir?" I ask laying my ears back, nervously
  9. You: Leaning back in my chair and sipping from the mug, i let out a long sigh of relief. "Thirst quenching. Tell me your name boy" i say, gesturing for you to sit at the table "a coin for your troubles too" I casually slide a golden coin across the table, the currency of my people.
  10. Stranger: I sit across from you "I'm Fente, sir"
  11. You: "Well Fente, i hope you have a strong arm!" Suddenly, the door to the cafe behinds to shake with banging, as if a mob were trying to break in. Withind a second, the door explodes as a horse of orks charges in. Kickig the table over, i draw y claymore, revealing my loincloth as my only clothing. "FEAR NOT LAD, FOR TODAY YOU FIGHT WITH BROGAN!" Slicing off the hand of the nearest ork, i laugh heartedly "SHOULD HAVE GOT A HAND-LE ON YOURSELF!"
  12. Stranger: I take a revolver from my pocket and blow my brains out
  13. Your conversational partner has disconnected.
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