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Post by Dusty on Mar 31, 2008 12:05:01 GMT -5
Dusty moaned and leaned inward to a mirror behind the bar. He smoothed his hair down and wiped the dirt off his face. He looked down to make sure his violin was still there at his feet, it was. He had a huge today and hoped the Judges wouldn't notice the hole in his clothes, or the fact that he hadn't bathed in days now. It wasn't his fault, and if he made it, maybe he would have enough money for new clothes.
Dusty took a sip of his drink and and picked up his violin. "It's just me and you lass, do we got it?" he spoke to the instrument as if were alive. A few people stared at the strange boy having a conversation with his violin. He was a strange looking boy, very tall and super thin, and with exceptionally large hands and feet, not to mention the fact that his clothes were about four sizes too small. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and pulled out his pocket watch. He had to be at the theater in an hour. He sat back and tried to relax, but that was imposable.
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Post by Dusty on Apr 11, 2008 16:35:11 GMT -5
She startled him, Dusty coughed. "Aye, that I be doubtin ma'am'" he patted the case and sighed as he looked around. Dusty again checked the clock, only five minutes had passed, it had seemed much longer. His stomach lurched and he put a hand on it. He was nervous.
Dusty stirred his gin with his grubby finger before he took a sip and self concisely took a sniff at his arm pits, forgetting he was in the company of a lady. He hoped she had not noticed. He oped the violin case and rubbed a bit a rosin on his bow and pulled a few loose strings out of it. A fly buzzed passed his ear and he swatted at it, tipping his full glass into his lap. He stood up now dripping wet and smelling strongly of gin. "Oh no," he said. He knew the minute he walked through the door, the judges would think he was nothing more that a no good bum.
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Post by Dusty on Apr 13, 2008 14:29:48 GMT -5
"Thank you ma'am."he said taking the napkins and patting himself dry. Several people stared at him. He blushed and waved at them, then received dirty looks from just about everyone in the room. He shrugged and sighed before sitting back down. Dusty ran a hand through his matted hair and put his head on the bar.
Sitting back up, he forced on a very fake smile, "Well," he said sadly "So much for that."He knew that she had know idea what he was talking about, but Dusty never thought about anything, he just, well, said it. He bit his lip and was about to order another drink, but decided he better just have water. He nervously chewed his fingers and jumped a mile when someone dropped a dish. Not only did Dusty have the audition to worry about, he was a bookie, and a well know one at that, which meant he would always have to be careful.
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Post by Dusty on Apr 13, 2008 15:15:46 GMT -5
He debated on telling her his name or not but she didn't look dangerous so he told her. "Dusty." he said raising his hand to spit in it, but he decided not to, then he held his hand out to her. He took a sip of his warm water and sighed. Somebody walked by casually slipping and envelope in front of him. Dusty knew it was either one of two things, his pay, or more orders. He hoped it was the first, but strongly doubted it. He slipped it into his pocket.
He stood to get the pocket watch out of the violin case, but tirped over his own feet falling flat on his face. The bartender came around to him. He pulled him up by the collar and whispered something in his ear. Dusty couldn't hear him but he figured it had to be something like 'Look buddy you pull anything like that again and your out of here you understand me?' but the way the man looked at him made him wonder. He stared to ask what he had said, but by the time he had thought about all this, the man was already gone. Dusty sat back down puzzled. He wrapped his hands around his glass, coufused.
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Post by Dusty on Apr 13, 2008 15:51:15 GMT -5
Dusty's knee bounced and he put a hand on it to steady it. "Uh, um, actually, I don't really know." he shook his head and bit his lip. "You didn't happen to hear what that man said did you?" he looked at her hopefully.
The bartender walked pasted him again, "Don't forget what I said."he put a hand on Dusty's shoulder. He smelled like cheep cigars. Dusty made a move to stop him, but he was already out the door. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Something was wrong, very wrong. He looked around it seemed like everyone was staring at him. Watching him, his every movement. He pulled at his collar and swallowed hard, "Is it hot in here or what?" he splashed some water on his face and pulled at his shirt sleeve.
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Post by Dusty on Apr 15, 2008 14:54:51 GMT -5
He drummed his fingers on the table and rested his chin on his hand. "No, I don't wanna leave just yet." he said thinking hard. "Umm, have you...oh, never mind." he looked at her and then ordered a drink realizing he was going to miss his addition.
Just then someone dropped another envelope in front of him. It was slightly burned at the tips. He wondered how that could have happened. Anyway, he figured he better open this one. He got a chill as he pulled the tattered piece of paper out of the envelope. He read it out loud. "15, 21, 20." he looked at it hard. "Is that is? 15, 21, 20?" he turned it over and held it up to the light. Nothing. He looked at the girl sitting beside him. "This is really weird." he said. Dusty remembered the first envelope. He pulled it out and slowly opened it. Breathing deeply he read it out loud, "7, 5, 20." He wrinkled his eyebrows. "What dose it mean?" he asked rather loudly to no one directly.
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Post by Dusty on Apr 18, 2008 14:58:28 GMT -5
Dusty wiped his forehead and sighed. "No, I really don't." he turned it over, holding it up to the light. Studding, memorizing everything about it. Which was not much. He just couldn't understand. It was all so, well, strange.
He got an idea, it was a code. It just had to be. He licked his lips. "Do, do you think its some kind of code?" of course it was. "Maybe it's a line, and word of something important, or the alphabet, or...Damn, I have no idea." he kicked the bar and grimaced in pain. 'I'm an idiot.' he thought to himself.
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Post by Dusty on Apr 18, 2008 15:28:44 GMT -5
Dusty smirked at her question. "I'd tell you, but, then I'd have to kill you." he said seriously. Then he bursted out laughing. He could never kill any one. He unfolded the envelope and searched it for something else. He didn't seem to see any thing.
He rubbed his throbbing foot and leaned over the bar. peering around for the bartender. He wasn't paying attention, maybe he had come back. Dusty didn't see him but now wished very hard that he heard what the man had said to him. He felt it was important.
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Post by Dusty on Apr 20, 2008 13:30:45 GMT -5
Dusty ran his fingers through his hair. "To be honest with you, I have no god given idea what to do, or even if this is really important, I mean, what if this is just some kind of jo..." at that moment, he remembered something.
A game. A game that him and his twin brother used to play when they were little. A code game. He asked a man washing dishes for a pen a paper, the frantically started scribbling down every letter of the alphabet, then carefully numbering each one, being careful not to mess up. He matched the numbers form the two papers he had received earlier with what ever number it was in the alphabet. He stomach lurched and he thought he was going to vomit. The room started spinning and his head was pounding, for there writin out was the answer. "Get out" was scribbled in his own hand writing on the paper.
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Post by Dusty on Apr 30, 2008 14:49:31 GMT -5
(So sorry this took forever, my computer crashed...)
Dusty shook his head and stared at the paper as if an answer to their question was suddenly going to appear. Dusty took a sip of his watered down drink a sighed. "I just don't understand." he said, mostly to himself.
"Maybe it means here. Maybe I, we, should get out of here." he said motioning to the bar. He stood up and dusted off his pants. He looked around, everyone looked suspicious. Dusty squinted his eyes and bit his lip. "Come on." he whispered to her, "Lets go." he bent down and picked up his violin case. When rising, he heard the sharp crack of his head colliding with the edge of the bar stool. Suddenly, everything seemed a whole lot less serious. He snickered and wiped a bit of blood of his forehead.
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