Here I Go Again, On My Own...

**Sam Barkley** · Jun 16th, 2010 09:39 AM

Sam gets out of the taxi, puts the butt of his staff upon the asphalt, and offers the driver a tip: "Try showering before you put on the cologne, guy. It smells like someone shat a pine in there." Sam reaps what Glamour he can from the infuriated cabbie before he pulls away, then puts his fists on his hips and looks over the bar.

His beat up Ford pick up still sits in the parking lot.

The windows were still intact and free of bullet holes.

The door is still on its hinges.

His spare key still opens the locks.

No broken liquor bottles. No dead or incapacitated bodies lie on the floor. No scorch marks on the walls or ceilings.

Sam looks up at the painting of the war turkey above the mantle. "Ye'd never even know Summer had been here," he chuckles to his friend. "Buncha goddamn ninjas, Harry. Not like in yer day."

Sam puts the weapon for which he braved the Hedge to reclaim behind the bar, removes a bottle of whiskey...which still has whiskey in it! He shakes his head sadly as he pours himself a glass of the good stuff. If it had been Sam, he'd have drank every bottle in the place, then filled the empties back up the old fashioned way.

He looked up at the clock. It was still morning, hours and hours til Suzie got here, or Sally, or whatever her name is, Sam never could remember properly. Even longer 'til he's got to open for business.

Sam grabs the phonebook from behind the bar and starts flipping through 'Locksmiths.' He needed all these changed, pronto. Wouldn't hurt to have an alarm installed, neither. After making some appointments, he takes out the clockwork doll he found in the Hedge and puts it on the counter.

"What have ye made here, Tickle?" Sam wonders, scratching his chin as he examines each side, gear, stroke of paint for some clue. He picks up the phone again to call Rick, maybe the Legate could help. Sam wasn't sure where he stood with the Freehold any longer, wasn't sure who was friend, who was enemy, or if Gianna's protection order still held. He was sure of one thing, though.

He didn't need her protection and he didn't want it. He walked the Path of Consequences, and it was time for Barkley to face those resulting from his declaration of war.

Rolls

**Forn Clakes** · Jun 17th, 2010 12:07 PM

OOC

**Sam Barkley** · Jun 17th, 2010 01:03 PM

Baller.

**Forn Clakes** · Jun 17th, 2010 01:09 PM

Its difficult to understand the little figurine without more of a detailed examination. The one thing that is instantly apparent to Sam is the complexity of its parts, and the true genius that Tickle posseses.

Fu · Jun 17th, 2010 10:14 PM

Loud thumps come from the front door followed by a noise that some might think was a rock getting ready to smash someone's skull.

"Barkley?! That you?"

**Sam Barkley** · Jun 18th, 2010 09:50 AM

Tickle's too goddam sharp by half, Barkley thinks as he puts the doll behind the bar, trading it for his staff. He knows that voice. "Yeah, it's me, hold yer goddam horses!" Sam walks to the entrance, opens the door, and stands in it, legs astride. The Wizened looks up at the Traitor through his familiar dark glasses, but with new eyes. Whether Fu had known about the Park attack beforehand or not didn't matter anymore. The End was coming for everyone, saints and sinners alike.

The heat that used to roll off Sam in angry, shimmering waves is gone, and in the Wizened's presence, Fu finds his own Mantle cool slightly about the edges. "Well, Fu, as I live an' breathe," Barkley grins, "Have yeh come fer fightin' or fer drinkin? I got plenty o'both."

OOC Mantle

Fu · Jun 19th, 2010 05:38 PM

Fu smiles as he sees Sam alive.

"Normally I'd say it was too early to drink bu....." He stops and looks at Sam, then looks some more.

"Uhhhh....Sam." He waves a hand dumbly around Sam indicating his mantle or lack there of.

**Sam Barkley** · Jun 20th, 2010 09:23 PM

Sam smiles at Fu and lets him in the door. He goes to get a second glass, and pouring it for the stone lion, he tells him, "No, ye've got that wrong. It's not too early. It's late, much, much too late, old friend. Last call." Grinning, he downs a shot of whiskey. "Almost." The smile fades, and Sam looks at Fu seriously. "I'm done with Summer, Fu. I walk another Path now, the Court of Dusk. Path of the Doomed. We accept that the End is coming, and strive to kick it in the nads on our way out. As many times as possible." He refills his drink. "This...politics...the Park...Harry...it's gotten nasty, Fu. But its just startin'. It's gonna get worse before it gets better, much worse. An' not from me. You have me word, I'm no enemy to the Freehold. But I don't expect you to trust me." Sam knocks back the second shot and smiles. "Questions? Concerns? Pretzels?" He looks at a bowl, then behind the bar and finds a note from his staff. "Goddam Health Inspectors! No pretzels, sorry."

Fu · Jun 21st, 2010 07:32 PM

Fu takes the glass and downs it. "Huh." Court of Dusk? Doom? What the hell had happened to Sam.

"You may be an insane bastard but you aren't that insane. If you were a threat to the freehold we would be having a different conversation. The threat right now is the Ear though the wonderful skills of Alice almost caused things to go to shit there." He shakes his head and laughs. "It's good to have you back, we're going to need every last crazy bastard we have, Summer or not. Though Spring can keep Alice, I don't feel like having to deal with her more. That's one of the reasons I didn't challenge Rust for King that and I would rather being fighting than politics." He says the last word likes its poison.

"Do I have a reason not to trust you Sam?" Stone grey eyes looks straight into Sam's, a mix of a question and a statement.

**Sam Barkley** · Jun 22nd, 2010 12:44 AM

"You got plenty of reasons," Sam tells Fu plainly. "But I'm not gonna tell 'em to you. Yeh couldn't trust me anyway." The Wizened laughs. "And fer the record, I don't trust you, neither, Fu. So maybe you want to keep an eye on crazy ol' Sam, eh? Maybe I should be watchin' me back 'round you as well. Easier to do if we can keep each other in front of ourselves, yeah? Yeh got a better gig goin' than bouncing fer me? Plenty Wrath in here," he says, inhaling deeply as he sweetens the pot.