The Elbow Room

[Specialist290]

Something about Melody and Lachryma's exchange apparently strikes a musical chord in Specialist, for he begins humming a tune familiar to himself and few others. Those who knew the tune would be able to identify it as a fairly lighthearted song by the title of "Lovely Rita."

At one interval, instead of humming, he sings out, quietly to himself, the line "...made her look a little like a milit'ry man...," then continues humming for a few bars.

Specialist then turns to face Vito and Leon. "Whatever you do, don't get an M16. Those things are real temperamental--they'll jam from the dust if you just leave it lying around. I ditched mine after..." A brief pause. "...Shortly after I arrived in Malton. Most worthless, unreliable, difficult to maintain gun I've ever had to carry.

"Those AKs, though... them Russians sure know how to make things, don't they?"

[Leon Silverblood]

Leon shifts his eyes and body toward Specialist. "I heard the only reason M-16s and M-14s gained the notorious unreliability was because they were poorly maintained, and that if someone actually cleaned the damned gun it would work just fine."

Leon says this in a flat, but slightly challenging tone. He is wondering what specialist has to say, wondering how much he really knows. Whether he defends his position or accedes, Leon isn't looking for a fight so much as for someone who can substantiate their claims. A rarity, to be sure. Hence, although Leon seems to openly challenge, perhaps even condescend to Specialist, he just wants to see how the man's opinions hold up under fire.

"Admittedly, the Kalashnikov is the more resilient weapon, even in it's chinese form. Why is that, Lachryma?" he says, turning his head inquisitively back to her.

[Lachryma]

Lachryma waves dismissively at Leon.

"I no get involved in pissing match. I have clothing to coordinate."

She thinks for a moment.

"But I add this: M-16 A1 is bad weapon, laughed at in Vietnam. M-16 A2 is better, not jam, not break. Otherwise, why would capitalists use?"

She looks over her shoulder at her Mosin Nagant.

"But Motherland weapons is always better, especially AK."

[Leon Silverblood]

There's an A-3 three you know. But who cares about this arms debate. We are all here to get drunk and not get our brains eaten. And any bullet kills a zed, no matter what barrel it flashes on it's way there."

Leon looks around suddenly, as if he's left the gas on.

"Shit! Hey!! Has anyone seen a cat running around here? Calico, kind of patchy fur? Probably trying to eat other cat's brains?"

[Vito The Don]

"The Mosin Naget was orginally used as an infantry rifle in World war one, but ended up as Russia's sniper rifle in World War Two. It's single shot and highly accurate. Personally, I hate M-16's, they're made of plastic composit parts that crack easily. A-k's have a wooden stock so that it close quarters you can crack a zeds skull." He looks at Leon "Do you have any grenades? I've always wonderd wht they would to do a zed."

[Definitely Not Axe Hack]

"You want grenades? I looted some from Creedy. Only used 1 so far. Here."

DJ Spinbad hands 5 grenades to Vito.

"Go see for yourself what happens if you use it on a zed. Better yet, using it on a horde is even better. I won't say what happens, but I can tell you, you won't be disappointed."

[Melody Arachne]

*cough*

From the stairs- "Lachryma! There's so much crap up here ... come take a look... hope you don't mind a little dust ..."

(check your PMs please Lach!)

[Lachryma]

Lachryma waves at the bar in general.

"I is back later, don't let bar go to hell in absence!"

She goes up the stairs.

[Prisonner Of Today]

Priz wakes up from his drunken slumber, and catches a bit of the conversation his bar-mates are having about handgrenades.

"From experience, I have to disagree with what your saying friend." he says tiredly to DJ Spinbad, "Handgrenades throw pieces of steel around randomly. It's lousy against one zed, cause it rarely hits it in the head, and worse against a horde. The bodies just absorb the shrapnel. The same applies to machine guns, flamethrowers, and artillery. Great against the living, bloody useless against the dead."

He reaches into a large backpack leaning against the table, and pulls out a large crowbar, and what looks to be a homemade rifle.

"These are the best things I've found yet. I tried using shotguns and stuff like baseball bats and golf clubs after my MP-5 broke, but shotguns are too messy for me, and for all the hype in movies, bats and clubs do little damage to a skull. A crowbar never breaks, and it's useful for prying things apart and this (he holds us the rifle) is one hell of a gun. It's a modified Marlin Model 1894. I made the stock myself after I busted it on someone's head, and I've rebored it for 7.62mmR ammo instead of the .357 Magnum stuff it used to take. 7.62R is alot more common nowadays, what with all the Russians around. I used to have a Beretta too, but I must have misplaced it...."

He finishes his speech, yawns, and turns his attention to the bottle in his hand.

[Leon Silverblood]

Leon reaches into a pocket of his big white lab coat and pulls out a can of Malton Ranger Brand Spam, and digs out a bit with his fingers, tossing it on the floor and waiting. After a few minutes, the pink wannabe pork is pounced by an ill-fed feline.

"This is my cat, Cerberus. I was mistaken, he's not eating brains right now, since i gave him a tenth-shot of an NT syringe. And don't sweat him if he does zed-out, he only goes after other cats."

He searches his pockets for an old spork, somehow still intact, or perhaps it just comes from his never-ending mystery stash of sporks and swizzle sticks. He looks around shiftily for a few moments, holding the spork close to him, then relaxing when no one seems interested, and chowing down on his salty loaf. He wonders aloud if spam is a reincarnation of pork that had bad karma.

[Vito The Don]

"I Dissagree, the M-63 uses round that instaly shater the spine of a zed, rendering incapable to move. But there is one thing I've wanted to do. I want to modify my M-63 to take box fed shotgun shells at its regular rate of fire."

[Melody Arachne]

Melody hop-scotches back down the stairs, carrying an armload of towels for the bar. "Alright, mission accomplished ... "

She ducks under the swinging section, tucking the towels away under the counter. "You wanna man the kitchen, VJ, I can watch the bar ..."

She tugs the tails of her shirt up and out of the way, tying them in a knot just above the waistline of her skirt.
"Two drink minimum, gents, no cover for the ladies ... don't be stingy with the tips."
She plunks a box of saltines down in front of Leon, goes back to polishing the scarred oak of the bar.

[Lachryma]

Lachryma stands at the top of the stairs, sedately looking out over the bar.

She is dressed in a dark purple, full length evening gown, complete with a black sable collar, and the fake pearls around her neck glisten slightly in the dim light. A green gem rests delicately in her hair, which has been done up like she's going to the opera. She adjusts a small red star brooch before slowly walking down the stairs.

She practically glides to the bar.

"You like new look, philosopher?" she hesitantly asks Leon.

[Leon Silverblood]

Leon's jaw drops for the second time this evening, and he tries to find the words to swear with delight, but really can't find his tongue at all. He turns and stares at Melody with elevator eyes, then back to Lachryma and swallows hard.

"I- Bu- Je-...Jesus!" he sputters, unable to find words to tell her how stunning she is. He admires Melody's handiwork from head to toe, able only to ask, in a voice that's barely a dry whisper:
"May I buy you a drink?"

[Lachryma]

Lachryma nods in a restrained fashion.

"If you have sophisticated drink, then I will take."

She thinks for a moment, obviously making up something as she goes along.

"High class drink, like...cocktail. Of some sort."

She appears to be blushing now.