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Post by Cian Mahoney on Jun 11, 2009 7:22:19 GMT -6
Cleaning glasses out as he stashed them away. He stood wearing the required extremely dark forest green shirt and the black pants and shoes. He set the last glass away. Glad he was able to catch up as the pub had been busy tonight. He really wanted to go home. Well, not really. He just wanted to be off work. A larger and bulkier man, who towered above Cian and weighed probably twice as much as Cian or better, came in. He sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. Cian eyed him carefully, not really wanting to give him a drink, but he did. He set it down in the glass just a few inches away from the man's folded arms on the bar counter. Cian had turned and began busying himself with another's drink, but soon was hearing complaints. He looked at the guy and approached. He asked what the problem was and the man told him that he hadn't served him his drink. Cian looekd at him. Then to the glass that sat a mere 3 inches away, then up to the guy again. "Sir... Your drink is right there..." He joltd back a little as the man shouted at him for being wise. Cian picked up the drink and handed it to him personally. But, appearantly that wasn't enough. Cian felt a grip around the collar of his shirt. Tight. Next thing he knew the glass was smashed over the side of his head. His legs gave out as he struggled to stay standing. Being thrust up against the wall, a few bottles on the shelves fell and burst on the floor. Cian's head was bleeding on the left side and the mans hands were soon around his neck. People were screaming and fleeing as a few brave patrons came out and pulled the man off of Cian. He fell forward and leaned on the bar counter. Pressing a hand to the side of his bloody head. Shaking. He felt sick all of a sudden. He needed to sit down. Managing to give a call out. "I'm no' serving drinks for a while.. drink slowly." Cian stumbled a little and made his way over to a table. Well tried to. He was quickly losing his footing. Leaning against the wall. About half way to the table, Cian's legs gave out and he slid down to the floor in a heap. Leaning against the wall, he tilted his head back and just sat there. Trying to come back to his senses.
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Post by keegan on Jun 11, 2009 9:30:18 GMT -6
Saturday night found Keegan wondering around the down town area, taking in the lights, noise, and the people. He had been to the bookstore and found a couple of good titles that were now sitting in his over-the-shoulder messenger bag. He had found them in a out of the woods, corner book shop, and couldn't wait to break them out. He was on on his way home when he made his way past a pub that was busy, but seemed to have a great atmosphere.
The bell above the door jangled as he pushed his way through the door. Nearly to the bar, Keegan stopped in his tracks and thought about turning back around when one of the patrons, a big guy who looked like he could kill with just one punch, hit the lone bartender with his glass. As he watched the bartender fall, he rushed over to help him up- the only person to do so. Helping the other man into a chair, he found a napkin and pressed it to the bartenders wound. "Think you'll be okay? Do I need to call for help?"
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Post by Cian Mahoney on Jun 15, 2009 6:34:47 GMT -6
As the brave group all managed to fight their way to the door with the attacker in their grips, Cian was being helped up off the floor. Moved to a chair with a napkin being pressed to his head. He gave a bit of a groan and furrowed his brow with closed eyes. "I should be alrigh'... In time.. Is there any glass?" If there was glass in the wound, then the Scot would have help sent for. But if not, then he would just tough it out. He still wasn't used to having to pay for his health here, and his pocket was very limited. Leaning forward a little, he rested against the table. His head was splitting.
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Post by keegan on Jun 15, 2009 18:45:52 GMT -6
Wincing a bit at the shear amount of blood coming from the small head wound, Keegan forced himself to keep his cool. Blood was not his favorite thing in the world. Grabbing a clean napkin or two, he checked the wound to make sure there was no glass. Relieved to find none, he pressed clean napkins to the wound, putting pressure on it. "No glass, but you may need to take it easy for a few. Took quite a hit."
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Post by Cian Mahoney on Jun 23, 2009 13:02:45 GMT -6
Cian let the man examine his head. More napkins. The head was always such a terrible place to get cut. There was alway so much blood, even if it was a small wound. Hearing that there was no glass, Cian relaxed a little more. "Aye, thank you..." He looked up and someone had just sat at the bar. Cian looked at him and heaved a sigh. With shut eyes he addressed him. "Sir.. bar is closed. I'm the only one workin' an', I am no' fit to serve at the moment. Could you please have patience.." The man looked at him and nodded. Telling him that all he had been after was a beer. Cian figured that was easy enough and he attempted to get up, but his head spun and he sat back down. The guy went to play darts and pass the time meanwhile. Looking at the guy helping him, Cian asked quietly, "So whats your name anyway?"
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