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A nun with a scythe walks into a bar. (OPEN RP) Started by: Sister_Friede on Mar 09, '23 09:00

The day was going pretty well for Friede. No one bothered her as she wandered around the city she would come to call her home in the coming weeks. She took notes of most of the restaurants and other notable locations like motels and warehouses. She even found a couple bars to drink at. While she was not a regular drinker, she enjoyed going to a bar every now and then.

She was about to enter it, when she was tapped on the shoulder. She smelled alcohol and stink, and she turned to see a drunkard just looking at her. "Whooo the hell are youuu?" The drunk slurred out. Friede smiles. "I am here to drink, sir." Friede remains polite even as the drunkard starts to get worked up over her presence.

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Ian Yu, a regular at the bar, had been sitting at the counter, nursing his drink when he saw the drunkard accost Friede. He observed the situation, ready to intervene if things got out of hand.

Seeing the man get increasingly agitated, Ian decided to step in. He got up from his stool and approached the drunkard, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey buddy, let's not make a scene here," Ian said calmly, trying to diffuse the tension. "The lady just wants to enjoy a drink like the rest of us."

The drunkard turned to face Ian, his eyes bloodshot and unfocused. "Mind your own business, man," he slurred, pushing Ian's hand off his shoulder.

Ian took a step back, his hands raised in a non-threatening gesture. "Okay, okay, I hear you. I'll leave you to it."

He walked back to the counter, keeping an eye on the situation. The drunkard seemed to calm down a bit and turned to leave the bar, stumbling out into the street.

Ian turned to Friede and gave her a small smile. "Sorry about that, some people just can't handle their liquor," he said, gesturing to the empty stool next to him. "Care to join me for a drink?"

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Friede grins watching the interaction with the drunkard and Ian Yu. "I have half a mind to beat the shit out of you, you impolite prick..." Friede mutters this as she watches the drunk leave, and she regards Ian with a smile, her polite mask back on. "Ah yes, thank you, good sir." You can tell Friede really wanted to fight the drunk, and you just barely stopped her.

"Hope you don't mind drinking with a nun..." Friede says, as she flags down the bartender for a shot of whiskey.

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Ian Yu chuckles, looking over at Friede as she orders her shot of whiskey. "Not at all, Sister Friede. I have a feeling that you have a bit more of a wild side than most nuns I've met," he says with a smirk.

He takes a sip of his own drink, a cold beer, and leans back against the bar. "That drunkard was quite the character, wasn't he? I have to admit, I was a little worried there for a moment," Ian adds.

He takes another sip of his beer and looks around the bar, taking in the dimly lit atmosphere and the various patrons. "So, Sister Friede, what brings you to a place like this? I can't imagine it's a typical spot for a nun," Ian asks curiously

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"I'm... new around here. I'm looking for work." Sister Friede was glad there was someone who knew her around here. "City's a little scary, hehe..." She grins, looking at the lecherous eyes on her. While she enjoyed their attention, she was also busy drinking. She slams down her third shot of the day, with a satisfied sigh. "So... sir. You wouldn't happen to have work for me would you? I would do anything for money at this rate..." She gestures to an empty wallet in her pocket.

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Ian nods, understanding the challenges of finding work in a new city. "I might have something that could work for you," he says, leaning in a bit closer. "I have a crew that's looking for new members, and I think you might fit in well."

He takes a sip of his beer, studying Friede's reaction. "It's not the most glamorous job, but it pays well, and we take care of our own," he adds. "We do what we have to in order to get by in this city, but we also have each other's backs."

Ian notices the lecherous looks from some of the other patrons, and he stands up, positioning himself protectively between Friede and the others. "And if you do decide to join us, we'll make sure that you're safe and taken care of," he says firmly.

"So, what do you say? Are you interested in hearing more about the job?" Ian asks, hoping that he can provide a solution to Friede's current predicament.

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"...Sounds good, Sir." Friede says, nodding her head. "I'll kill all your enemies if you need me to. I'm... you could say I'm hard worker." She waves her scythe around. "This family heirloom I carry is not for show, after all." She smiles under her veil, a wolfish one of all teeth. The men looking at her seem intimidated and return to their business.

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Ian, with a small smirk playing on his lips, observes Friede's display of prowess. "Well, well," he says, nodding approvingly. "I can see that you're not one to shy away from a challenge. And that's exactly the kind of attitude I need in my line of work."

He studies Friede intently. "I can tell you have the skill and determination to be a valuable asset to my organization. If you're willing to work hard and follow my lead, I'm willing to give you a chance. But you need to understand that there will be rules, and there will be consequences if you break them."

He holds out his hand. "So, what do you say, Friede? Are you in?"

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"Yes, sir. I will be in your care." Friede shakes the hand with her open hand, downing another shot of whiskey with her other hand. She keeps her eye on her scythe leaned against the counter. "I'm a very good maid, sir." She jokes.

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Ian takes a sip of his drink. "I appreciate your willingness to work under me. I have a feeling we'll make a good team."

He sets down his glass and gestures towards Friede's scythe. "I'm assuming that's your weapon of choice? It's quite an impressive piece of equipment."

Ian leans back against the counter and crosses his arms. "So, tell me a bit about yourself, Friede. What brings you to this line of work? And don't worry, I won't judge," he adds with a small smile.

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"Hmm... I do not have a much interesting story. I was raised in a church orphanage. Found this scythe in said church. It turns out that the church hunted heretics in the Middle Ages." Friede orders a line of shots for herself and Ian. "One unnamed nun, according to the ones who raised me, was said to be so effective and terrifying with this scythe that she was called the Bloody Sister. She slaughtered hundreds of heretics according to the records..." She smiles looking at the heirloom, seemingly having lovely memory flashbacks. "I... I do not believe myself worthy of this weapon. But it is a reminder of home..."

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Ian looks at Friede with admiration and a bit of surprise. He takes the shot glass and downs it in one gulp. "That is a very interesting story," he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'm impressed that you have this connection to your past, and that you carry such a powerful reminder of it with you. I'm sure that the nun who wielded it before you would be proud to see how you've grown since then." He raises his glass in a toast. "Here's to the Bloody Sister, and to all of us who carry our pasts with us."

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"Here's to the church that was kind enough to raise me." She raises her shot and drinks it down easily. She sighs in satisfaction again. "Though I'm sure they don't approve of me drinking, especially this much whiskey." She breaks down into laughter. She picks up her scythe and puts it on the counter. The scythe was beautiful for a so-called heirloom. The handle was a beautiful oak hardwood, polished to a sheen and some portions of it textured for practical wielding in battle. There was even a rose carved in and wrapping around the upper part of the handle. The blade itself was huge and deadly sharp, with multiple Latin phrases carved into it. A beautiful cross was drawn into the body, a reminder of its bloody and holy heritage. "Blessed be the Church, blessed be the Sisters of our Holy Sanguine Order..." Friede mutters this phrase like a prayer.

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Ian looks at her with a smile. "I think they would approve of this whiskey. After all, it's a holy spirit, isn't it?" He winks at her and takes a sip. 

His gaze shifts to the scythe on the counter, admiring its beauty. "I can see the care and craftsmanship that went into it. And those Latin phrases carved into the blade, they must hold some powerful meaning." He takes another sip of whiskey before continuing. 

"I myself have always had a fascination with the Church's history and its artifacts. There's something both terrifying and awe-inspiring about the things they've created over the centuries."

Ian leans back in his chair and looks at Friede with a smile. "Blessed be the Church indeed, and blessed be those who carry on their legacy."

He finishes his whiskey and stands up from his seat. "As much as I'd love to stay and chat more about the Church and its artifacts, I'm afraid I must be going. Duty calls, as they say." He gives Friede a nod and a smile before heading towards the door. 

"Take care, Friede. And may the Church continue to guide and protect us all." With that, Ian exits the establishment and disappears into the night.

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"See you soon, sir..." Friede says, watching Ian walk out. She's been here for a few hours now, their conversation having gone on for a long time. "I suppose... it's about that time of night, to cause some trouble..." She pays her drinks with what little money she had left, and went outside, heading into the backalleys. Because it's always, ALWAYS, in the shadows where those who wish to do evil hide. She hefts the heirloom scythe on her shoulder and Sister Friede is off on her hunt now.

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Screams filled the night, as Friede and her scythe got to work cleaning up. The backalleys were filled with addicts and cutthroats and all manner of scum. Granted she was no different than them, but still... She might as well honor what the scythe stood for. If anyone was coming to help her, she would not know nor care. She and her scythe will leave rivers of blood...

"Let us hunt." She mutters a prayer to her scythe, as she is surrounded by a dozen hoodlums with knives, chuckling to themselves as they fantasized what they would to do to her when they were done.

Would anyone come to help?

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Raphael had been wandering for a bit, hopping from one palce to another aimlessly. it was a relatively quiet night, and he'd done well enough at making a little bit of cash by rolling dice. Lost quite a bit too though, so he was near even at this point. Still, it was the bar that called to him now, at least he thought it was until he heard screaming coming from down and alley.

He took a moment to pat his chest where his 1911 sat in it's holster and decided to round the corner toward the screams, rather than away from them. That's when he bumbped into a bum, a piece of rubber still strapped to his arm, squeezing his veins, blood drained from his face. Raphael had stopped his retreat from whatever monster was in that alleyway in his mind.

"Hey buddy, calm down huh? What's going..."

Before he could finish the other man pushed him out of the way and ran. When Raphael stood back up and looked in the direction the other guy ahd come from he squinted into the darkness. Shapes were able to be made out by the moonlight, but not much more. Though every so often he caught a glimpse of blood, or the color of someone's shirt, or jacket. And in the middle of it all seemed to be... someone, a woman, surrounded by a bunch of other guys who did not look all that friendly.

So of course, out came his gun.

"Leave the lady alone boys." He called down the alleyway, and to no surprise a couple of the men peeled off and started coming his way. Raphael simply sighed, aimed and pulle the trigger watching as one of them dropped, and three others started to rush him. If they closed the gap, he was going to havd trouble. Couldn't let that happen. So he pulled the trigger, again, and again, hoping to hit enough of them that they'd stop one way or another.

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Friede hears gunshots, one man has come to help. She didn't recognize him, and taking advantage of his arrival, twirled her scythe with a practiced efficiency. Five men fell to the ground, either having had their throats sliced open or their arms separated from their bodies. Her scythe was a blur of iron, and the hoodlums were now between a man with a gun and a crazy bitch with a farming tool. "May the Bloody Sister bless me as I reap these souls..."

More screams, as Friede chases after the three men who were charging the stranger. "What the fu--" One turns immediately upon hearing his friends dying, and he gets a scythe blade to the face. Friede's nun habit was stained head-to-toe in blood, and she just regards the gurgling corpse on her weapon with an unimpressed eye.

"A waste of a whetstone..." She takes the blade out, and the body drops to the floor. There were only two men left, and they were stuck between her and the stranger with a 1911. "Well? Will you fools surrender, or no?" 

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Raphael almost dropped his own gun when he noticed the woman get closer. It was a goddamned nun. Not just any woman, a fucking nun of all things. With a scythe?! Or was that a sickel? Dammit, he never did know the real difference. Either way, she was way out of sorts for what he expected a nun to look like, even in a dark alley in the middle of the night.

"Uh, boys if you surrender and pray real had I think the nun might be your best shot here. At least she can get you into heaven. Ain't that right sister?"

He called across the alleyway to the woman who, by this point, Raph was convinced was just some crazy woman who had gotten her hands on a habit at some point. These guys had pulled knives on her though so they got what was coming to em. he just hoped she didn't try to turn that thing on him once they were gone. He could hear the blood dripping off of it onto the pavement and that was not a pleasant sound. At least with a gun, the blood just silently oozed out of the guy you shot. That dripping sound was something way more sinister.

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The two hoodlums did not, in fact, surrender. They instead charged directly at Friede. She sighed, and swung. Her scythe split one in half, while another swing beheaded the other. Friede looked down at herself with a sigh. This was NOT coming out within a few hand washes, most definitely. She was now satisfied with her hunt, and looked for a place to sit down. She saw one of the more intact bodies and sat on it, unbothered. "Thank you, Lord..."

She looks at the stranger, nods, and takes out a cloth with which she began to wipe down her scythe.

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