Brainhurt

Isis peruses the menu for a moment and places her order. Something small to start, "I'd like the salad and a stake medium-rare and I'll try the mushroom appitizer." she scans the menu again, "An that'll be it, thank you miss."
She quaffs her second glass and sighs, glancing over at the southern lady and seeing how drunk she was already Isis decided to help her, "Miss, are you alright? Can I give you a hand?"she laid her hand on Gaitor's shoulder to get her attention.

Isis downs her drink in one go and caughs as it burns going down. She puts the offered pretzles to good use as well. Her metabolism requiring a lot of food if it's been over worked. She looks at her glass and swirls the last dregs of her drink, "Lil' sistah I'll take another of the same and tell me, what's a sistah got to do to get some food around here?" She taps her foot to the music, brightening considerably.

She looks around the bar area and nods and smiles at anyone who meets her gaze.

[ QUOTE ]

"Ma'am, I apologize, but you carry your years well." Narshawn noded in apology, "I am young,"

"I cannot speak by experience for liquor, but would say the strongest we have is Fulton's Reserve or perhaps Grappa di Roma. The first is recommended by Mistress War, a corn liquor from Missouri, the Grappa a licorice tasting liquor. Mistress War would advise against over-indulging in the Reserve, it carries a high price.

"The Skulls and Hellions I know of, I would never think to challenge a Council member. My skills are not enough to stand against them, at least not yet. Any information you have on how to challenge them would be appreciated."

She spoke over one shoulder, slowly ascending to a simple glass jug, high on a center shelf. The liquid inside appeared clear. "You may prefer to smell the liquor before trying it."


[/ QUOTE ]

Sighs and smiles, "I know I'm just too sexy for my own good." she winks.

"Sistah, the same thing that makes me look how I do make alcohol not last long for me. I think I'll take Fulton's Reserve it sounds good." she sighs again, "The Council are the biggest pain in the... well... They got some really bad stuff. They have machine guns, flame throwers and grenades." Her gaze takes in the ice-girl, "I'd be real careful afor you try an take'm sistah."

"What may I do for you? The paper is payment for any drink you wish. Care you for a menu, the selection is large?" Frozen breath cooled the air, and the hint of her icicle teeth could be seen when she spoke. She seemed to consider a moment, then:

"Pardon me, but may I see an ID for alcohol? Your hair may be white, but your smile is young."

Isis sighed, she didn't know why it bothered her but one would think a fifty year old wouldn't be asked for idea anymore. Never mind that she still looked twenty. She reached into her belt pouch and pulled out her ID showing she was born in 1952 and put it away.

"I think I'd like a menu please." she paused, "No, on second thought, I'd like your strongest. Today's been a weird day. D'you serve food at the bar too? It's been weird and busy.

Y'know I been followin leads that th'trolls and th'hellions are trying to team up and boot out the Skulls. Now usually I wouldn' mind that but I can't imagine that being anythin but trouble. So I get to the warehouse they're meetin at and as I'm makin my way to their bosses the place gets raided by the council. As if Trolls and Hellions wasn't bad 'nough. Now I have to take down council too? I don' even know where they came from."

Isis dusted herself off having just arrested the last of the helions that had tried to take a building hostage. She proded the leader with her high heeled boot.
"You remember little man, you've been busted by Isis Jones an' I been cleanin out hoods since before you were even born so you really din't stand a chance."
She brushed back a lock of her white hair, the only sign that she was as old as she was. That night, oh so long ago when she went from blacksploitation deva to a hyper-metabolic crime fighter had made it's mark only in that she didn't appear to age and healed amazingly fast.

She fingered a small tear in her tight spandex fighting costume and wished, not for the first time that it healed like she did. She was going to have a bit of patching to do tonight.

As she made her way to the door a young woman ran up, "Miss, miss! I don't know how I can ever thank you for saving my life! But... Here!" The woman thrust out a paper to her and Isis read it. Opening night at The Ladies by the Lake bar and Resteraunt! Present this cupon for one complimentary drink! (I hope I'm not stepping out of bounds with that but I figure it wouldn't be a stretch to have something like that on an opening night if not say it's a gift certificate sort of thing)
"I know it isn't much be please take it with my thanks."
Not knowing what else to say Isis took the flyer thinking she could use a break.

She continued on her way stopping at Icon for a moment to get her suit mended before heading to The Ladies. She paused outside the door, checked to make sure her hair was alright under her bandana and entered, taking the place in. She noted that two women had already entered the bar and the rest was for the most part deserted.
After a moments thought she decides to join the two in the bar and pushes past the glass doors and sits, showing the paper she was given.

It's a great read for lunch. I can't wait for the next instalment!

Name: Bainhurt
Real Name: unknown
Age: Appears to be in his 30's
Sex: Male
Height: 6'5"
Appearence: He wears a random assortment of clothes and armor with varying colours. His skin is orange, his hair violet. He has often been described as a walking paint factory accident. Imagine the gaudiest assortment of colours and he's worse. He seems to always have a lit but end of a cigar in his mouth.
Desired level: 20
AT: Natural Tanker
Power: Invulnerability/Battle axe, Super speed Power pool, tear away clothing (if his clothes are to tattered and torn he can pull them off and a new, untorn set is underneath no matter how ruined his top clothes were.)

Brief bio of hero: Brain Hurt is one of an inter-dimensional organisation. The organisation has no name though every member within it is named some varient of Brain Hurt. The selection process to get into the organisation is quite stricked and no one who has requested entrance has ever made it in though they have been considered.

Personality: Brain Hurt is a gung-ho go getter. He will jump into the fray and then he might consider thinking about if this was such a good idea. Most of the time he will make comments, joke and pun. He might be silly and foolish but if someone has a problem they couldn't find a better man.

What can I NOT do with your character: Brain Hurt will never ever wear clothes that don't clash and his rule on colour is the brighter the better.

I gather this means there's no more room eh?

For a lark, and just to make fun of the gender bending issue, I made a character using a female body, made it all armor but the armor's creator got trapped inside while he was working on it and -he-'s a guy though the armor was built for a woman. Needless to say he's often cranky since it's uncomfortable and the fact that the external speakers are glitchy as well so it makes him sound like a girl doesn't add to his mood.