Metal screeched against metal as a rust-covered iron man stumbled into the tavern. A disheveled tuxedo, almost worn down to rags covers up most of his body, although rust and blood can be seen through the numerous holes. Two angry red eyes glowered behind glass lens, without discernible pupils, none can tell where he's staring. The two transparent cylinders that jut out from behind his back, stick out from his bare back, where the fabric has been torn away. They seem empty and dusty, and black flakes dot the the inner surfaces of the curved glass.
He stumbles in, two steps, three...his whole body creaks as joints grind against each other.
Suddenly, one of the waitresses makes a beeline towards the metal beast.
"Corey! What happened to you? I've been worried sick! You left after you got th.."
"Is you! Diane!" the one named Corey grasps the waitress' arms firmly. One hand is sheathed in a cloth rag while his other arm has a large, wicked looking syringe attached to it.
"Kruor hungry!" it hisses under it's breath.
"Me need it, the thing you say Kruor should not talk about in pub-blick places. Kruor need it, Kruor thirsty. Thirsty, very thirsty!"
"Oh, dear..." Diane ushers Kruor to a table in the corner, her voice hushed and comforting.
"Come, sit down over here. Don't move, I'll be right back. And keep your hands to yourself!" the waitress shouts behind her as she dashes off to the pantry.
"Please, hurry, Kruor can't stand it. Hurry, hurry, hurry!"
Even seated under the shadows, whispers fill the tavern. Gazes and stares came his way, cold and untrusting. But before Kruor could get uncomfortable, Diane came rushing back with a half dozen pints. The dark-colored glass kept it's content veiled whilst the murmers grew.
"Now, tell me what happened..." Diane whispered as she handed the pints to Kruor. One by one, the metal man thrusted his wicked syringe straight through the cork to siphon the mysterious substance in it. A pump strains itself, voicing it's strain aloud, as though the metal beast was slurping and devouring a meal hungrily.
"Please, more..." Kruor's voice begged.
"Only after you've told me everything." said the waittress, her forehead wrinkled in worry.
"Well, Kruor was hungry...and then me strayed from friends."
"What then?"
A brief silence hung in the air, before the robot bluntly replied:
"Me no remember."
[sblock=Perception 20]The syringe appears to be siphoning a slightly viscous, crimson liquid.[/sblock]
[sblock=OOC]Ah...writing is nice. Stretching my brain muscles is great, it seems like I've been just lumbering through life ever since I left.
In case anyone is wondering, Diane is an NPC who Kruor accidentally wounded his first time visiting the tavern. He and some PCs then staged a mission to rescue her from a kidnap attempt by a BBEG that wanted to "study" her. And by study her they meant dissect her so that they can research the effects of my wounding her. Ever since then, I've taken a liking to RPing her in the tavern.
Also, quick reply button seems to be borked. And most of the tools for writing for that matter

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