Futuristic The Frontier: A Space Western [ALWAYS OPEN!]

Her eyes were intense as they flickered from the stranger to the bartender. Unlike the rest of her, they weren't at all expressive, they were cold, like ice. While most blue eyes were captivating, her frozen irises usually negated any feelings of enthrallment. Every tendril of various shades of incandescent striking white-blue finally rested on the man sitting at the bar next to her, a light frown tugging on her lips barely hidden from the shadow of her hat.

Why would all these people focus on going after one man?
Credits. Obviously. Probably. Or maybe the guy had pissed one too many people off. Either way, the fella seemed to have a lot of heat coming his way and she wondered abstractly just how decent the pay was to gather this crowd. Not that she really needed the credits at the moment, but it was always nice to have.

"Must be one hell of a smooth operator to attract such a following." She replied, slowing her drawl just slightly as if thinking through her words as they fell from her lips.
Gwen analyzed the man more openly, not quite sure how to peg him.

"Is that what you're here for as well? Just another bounty-hunter groupie lookin' to kill some sob for the creds?" She leaned an arm back against the bar, tipping her hat back just enough to lessen the shadows cast on her face as she watched him. Up close it would have been easy to tell she was female, the soft lines of her features gave it away and pieces of her strawberry blonde hair hung from the inside of the hat, teasing at its true length. Then again, it wasn't as if she were trying to hide it...taking on a more masculine appearance in her line of work proved to be less of a headache then strutting around in a corset that promised to never allow her to take a deep breath again.

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Communicating with: the heavily armored mystery man capMARVELOUS
Mentioned: N/A

At this comment, he turned to face her. He didn't appreciate her comment; Yeoman he was, but he was not simply another ragamuffin looking for some money. He kept his eyes fixed on hers as he said, "No ma'am, I'm not 'just another bounty-hunting groupie in it for the creds,' as you so aptly put it. I have my own reasons for flying the red; reasons that, quite frankly, are none much of your concern. Aside, of course, from the "this job lets me eat" reason. So I'd appreciate it if you'd refrain from clumping me in with that stereotype, please." He held the gaze for a short while after, almost daring her to retort.

She tsked, leaning her cheek against a closed fist propped up by the bar. "Well someone's touchy." Gwen grumbled, watching him idly as she processed his attitude. There was an obvious agitation in his voice and body language. For some reason it amused her to poke at this strangers buttons. Unfortunate as it was for him, he was her new source of entertainment until something else came to distract her.
"It's hard not to 'clump you in with the sterotype' especially when you have the whole," she waved a gloved hand in a circular motion to vaguely gesture at his person, "I kill or capture criminals for money vibe." Gwen wasn't impervious to the glare he was sending her, frankly she just didn't care. He could look like a sourpuss all he wanted, but it wasn't going to stop her. Still, she respected the stranger enough not to pry into whatever personal reasons there were that may drive him. Lord knows she wasn't about to go spilling her whole life story to some guy at a tavern. Sober at least. A slow smile twisted at her lips, unable to keep her amusement off her face.
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Communicating with: The touchiest-don't-sterotype-me-hunter ever capMARVELOUS

"Sweetie, you have to be joking." Lucy sighed, glaring at the greasy mechanic with armored hands on armored hips. "Six HUNDRED credits to rent a Rover for an hour? That's preposterous."

The mechanic shrugged his oil stained burly arms. When Lucy had initially breezed into the Stable, the huge garage that housed over several dozen land rovers and shuttles for personal and private use the man had eagerly gone to great her - and had inquired if she was looking to buy a transport. His smile had faded when she had politely informed him she only required a temporary loan.

He had visibly scowled when she mentioned she was chasing a bounty out in the wastes.

"Bloody Yeoman!" He grunted as he poked a chubby finger at her. Lucy was relived he hadn't touched her wonderfully clean armor with it, she would have been tempted to snap it off. "D'ya know how many rovers I've lost over the last few months coz of you fuckin' amateurs either gettin' them blown up or just not botherin to return' them? I'm gettin' ruined. Insurance is goin' through the roof! Another month like that and I gotta shut up shop. Move back ta Babylon..."

Lucy pinched her nose. Her headache returning.

She made a good point. He grunted in reply, not appreciating her calling him touchy, despite the fact it was somewhat true. Truth be told, he wasn't actively trying to be "touchy" or ill-tempered; he just happened to have a bit of an aversion to answering questions about himself. There were some things about him that he just didn't want other folks to know, and his style of answering... well, made him seem touchy. "I don't kill criminals for money," he said. "It's not my way. I just bring them in." As she started to grin, he removed his glare from her, the lines in his brow vanishing, and flipped to a new page of his Bible to read. The Book of Job, he had turned to. He liked that story.

He did not begin reading immediately; rather, he turned back to the woman and asked, "And what about you, ma'am? What's your whole deal? Far as I can tell, you seem to fit in with the "kill criminals for money" stereotype, too. Rather well." In the back of his mind, he began to wonder where the barmaid had gone off to.

Erica Branton

The roast was almost done. "Give it about ten minutes," Erica told Tina Candice. "Then proceed to the next step."

"Acknowledged," Tina Candice said.

Erica took a second to step out of view of the bar and talked directly into her radio. "Jenna, I'm fine," she said.

"You didn't follow me all the way to Mars just to get yourself killed or arrested, did you?" Jenna asked.

"No, I came here to protect you."

"Then let me return the favor. I'll gotta get back to work, so if you need help, just signal."

"Of course." Erica headed back into the bar's main area. Two people at the bar seemed like they were waiting to order something. "Sorry about the wait," Erica said as she stepped towards the duo. "Dunno why none of the crew stopped by, but I'm here now. What can I get you?"

capMARVELOUS Hell0NHighWater

***

Jenna Branton

Jenna clicks the radio off with a sigh. "After telling me to lay low, she's the one who goes and taunts a cop. Stupid overprotective big sister." She continued to mumble to herself as she went back to working on the rifle. It was almost finished, Jenna just needed to finished putting the weapon back together, and then test fire it. But, the new mechanism functioned, so she was sure she had another satisfied customer on her hands.

Ah, there she was. Just in time to interrupt the conversation, which he was starting to get tired of. His attention turned to the barmaid, to answer her question. "Me, I'd like another glass of milk, please, and a room for the night. Just tonight. Payment up front," he said, sliding his credits chit out from its spot on his belt. "That will be all."

The familiar smell and taste of iron seemed to always waft through the air. No matter how hard he tried, the red sands found their way through the white clothing. Unlike most, he was traveling on foot, one part because of convince, another because of how hard it was to find a fully functional rover. At least in his case.

King, with heavy arms, looked through the satchel to his right to pull out a map. From the few breaks he had, all that could be seen was baren land. A geographic structure here or there but nothing of true interest. He had heard stories of a place called New Eden, a colony sprouted right out of the ground. New land meant new credits, new jobs, maybe a few more adventures to be had, though the last was optional, jobs like his didn’t really end joyfully. Unless you meant economically.

Soon, he had entered the colony from the East. It almost looked like his old home, but that was a long dead dream now. He had made it into the stables, the massive gaurage filled with rovers galore. However, he wasn’t leaving town too soon. He hit the side of one of the rovers with his foot, a light tap to gain the attention of the two he presumed were working there. One a simple mechanic, the other, a young looking women in a suit of armor. He assumed his body guard. “Howdy.” His voice was rough as he spoke. “Don’t suppose you can lead me anything, can ya? Bounties? Jobs? The local bar? New in town, get me?”
Interactions: Avari

She watched as he flipped through the pages of a worn book. He piqued her interest, but she could care less about the man other than him being a perfect distraction while she awaited the bartender's attentions. Gwen was sure that that was the end of the conversation and with a small huff she had moved her attention back to the other end of a bar where a couple other patrons were enjoying their small talk and beverages. His voice however, caused her to turn. The sides of her lips quirking into a smug smile. She was aware that she fit the bounty hunter stereotype, but that wasn't really what she was. Some days she didn't even remember what she had been to begin with. Only what she did now.

"I won't deny that I've gotten paid to rid people from this dust heap. But I won't pretend that I'm some saint here to bring the guilty to justice."
If she were going to be completely honest with herself, she should have had a space on that bounty board herself. Especially with the things she's done. The amount of people and martian natives that she's killed...she had no delusions about what type of person she was. None at least that would make her suddenly confess all her sins to this man who seemed to want as much to do with her as she wanted with him.

Gwen's glacier blue eyes flickered towards the bartender who had immediately apologized for the wait. She gave the other woman a blank look, barely holding back a snort at the man's choice of drink. Milk? What was he twelve? But she wasn't about to voice that opinion, besides she was hardly in a position to judge.
"Whiskey." Her voice was dry and cracked ever so slightly on the last syllable. Perhaps she should have ordered a water first, but the damage had already been done and she wasn't about to rescind her order. There was no point. Her smile vanished and for a second she looked like the weight of the world was coming down on her shoulders, then the expression was gone. Her blank mask back in position.

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Communicating with: NemoTheSurvivor and capMARVELOUS

William Harrison
William told himself the credits he had made for the thousandth time and it was an impressive haul for him, 6,000 credits total. He smiled and hummed a cheerful beat, he was entering New Eden from the North, and he looked around for the Rover stable until he found it and docked his rover.
“Where to now,” he whispered to himself, he turned around and found it.


The sign said “Touch Of Home”, and almost immediately William felt at home, he opened the doors and entered the building, taking a seat at one of the barstools.
NemoTheSurvivor

LUCY VALENTINE

“Howdy.” His voice was rough as he spoke. “Don’t suppose you can lead me anything, can ya? Bounties? Jobs? The local bar? New in town, get me?”

The pair stopped arguing for a moment at the interruption by the young man. Lucy gave him a flirtatious wink, but the mechanic practically ballooned in anger.
"Another fuckin' Yeoman!" He growled, his face turning a rather violent shade of puce. "This ain't an information centre! Fuck off to Touch of Home, I ain't-"

Lucy sighed dramatically as she placed a hand on the angry man's shoulder. "Now now. Calm yourself darling. This one is new to town, can't you give him a teeny tiny break?"

The mechanic battered off her hand, causing Lucy's pretty features to morph into a scowl but the oily man met it with one of his own.
"If you wanna play tour guide that's your business."

"Your customer service is impeccable darling."

As the pair continued to bicker (As he got angrier, she got more patronizing.) A Rusty, beaten looking Rover docked in the Stable and a rather weary man exited and left - without paying any of them any attention.

A small playful smile flickered over Lucy's features.
"Ah! My ride is here. Don't worry about the lease darling - It seems I won't need it."

The mechanic peered at her suspiciously.
"That bloke didn't seem to know ya.."

"Oh! He's the strong silent type," Lucy giggled as she began to waltz over to the Rover in question.
"And besides... If this wasn't mine would I be able to do this?"

She placed her hand on the door to the Rover. A few seconds past, before it gave a cheerful bleep and opened for her. Lucy gave the mechanic a wave.
"See darling? I wouldn't have access if it wasn't mine. Don't you think?"

The mechanic waved her off, clearly just wanting her out of his garage. "Just fuckin' get outta here will ya."

"Happily!" Lucy beamed, slyly pocketing the hacking tool she had used to overwhelm the Rover's security systems and then she waved over at the other man.

"You there! Looking for work sweetie? I could do with a driver to take me out to the wastes. Need to pick up this lovely gent. Won't take long - an hour tops, but I do find myself feeling lonely..."


---

IINTERACTION: B BlueClover
MENTION: Rockwithfries

Freddy’s face turned to a grim scowl after being called a bounty hunter. “I’m sorry, but do I look like a damn bounty hunter. I ain’t got the sash or any of that shit, most of my associates are bounty hunters. I’m a Gun for Hire, thank you very much.” He scoffed before turning his attention to the rover and the passenger from it.

The actual bounty hunter made her way to it. Before he knew it, it seemed like he got the job. He followed the girl inside, slipping into the drivers seat and slamming the door behind him. “So judging by your status. I’m guessing the person you’re looking for is really more of a bounty. And how long before your “friend” realizes his rover is missing?” Freddy smirked as he extended his hand. “Anyways, it isn’t my job to budge. So I’ll give you my run down. Freddy king, as you could already tell I’m a hired gun and a cartographer if you need any maps. Loyal till the job is done. I also got food but that’ll be put on your tab.”
Interaction: Avari
Mentions: Rockwithfries

William
William sighs and fidgets, he turns around on his bar stool and faces towards a group of people around a table, he walks towards them hoping they are gambling

“Well hello gentlemen” William speaks happily

One of the men look up towards him “If you aren’t here to gamble then fuck off”

“Trust me I am here to gamble, so what are we playing?” William says reassuringly

“Blackjack” another one of the men say

William takes a seat at the table, “ 1000 credits, you might as well give me all your money now”

The first man who told him to “fuck off” laughs and deals the cards. William looks at his card, a joker and an six, “Give me another” William announces.

William looks at the next card and smiles, having received a five. The players put out their cards and one of them looks irritated.

The man that looks irritated has a long brown coat, he stared at William and speaks “I’m all in, 10,000 credits”

William stares, “ I don’t have that much money on me”

The man shakes his head “Doesn’t matter just whatever you have”

William nods “I have 7,300 credits”

“Alright then let’s play” The man stares at the other players, “Fuck off”

They leave the table and go to another one, and the man gives William a strange grin.

There is a silence between the two players as they get their cards, William looks at his cards, and eight and a seven. He nods, “Give me another card” he speaks.

The man also speaks “Another one for me also”
William and the man are given a card, and William looks at his card and smiles, “This is the biggest win I have ever had”

William puts out his cards and the Man appears to count it, “21 huh, strange, last time you also got a 21”

William nods, “My luckiest stream, and my money?”

The Man stares for a moment before pulling out a weapon, William pushes up the table at him and pulls out his revolver, “You ain’t nothin but a cheat!” The man roars loudly

BANG

A laser from the Mans gun strikes William in his chest, and William fires his gun into the mans neck before going down. William chokes “ Fuck, help me”

Lucy favored the man with her most winning smile as she climbed into the passenger seat, and accepted his hand.
"Lucy Valentine. A pleasure darling - I admire a guy willing to jump into the action without hesitating...I'll give you half of what I make on this trip - I say that's a fair deal, no?"

She glanced around the cabin, and her nose quickly wrinkled at the state of it. There were dark spots of corrosion scattered everywhere, covering the usual silver with an unpleasant brown. The floor was covered in wrappers, empty packets and what looked like several I.O.Us from various gambling dens - which certainly caused Lucy to rise an interested eyebrow. "God this thing is a piece of crap..."

"How long before your “friend” realizes his rover is missing?” King wondered, as the Rover gave a resistant whine as it spurred into life.

Lucy gave him a coy smile. "We'll be back long before he notices sweetie. Now - Let's roll before the angry gentleman comes back, no?"

----

INTERACTION: B BlueClover

He grunted in reply again, before returning his attention to the barmaid, who had yet to accept his payment. The new woman's comment resonated with him, reminded him that he was, more or less, in the same boat as her. He was no saint on a righteous crusade, either, no matter how much he wanted to think so. He was merely another troubled soul on the lonely red plains, doing what he did in an attempt to atone for his sins.

His internal musings were interrupted by the sound of gunfire. He whirled his head about to check out what exactly had gone down, just in time to see a man in a blue duster hit the floor, a gunshot wound in his chest. Another man toppled over with a hole in his throat, as good as dead: nobody could recover from that. Dropping his credits chit on the bar counter, he went over, dropping on his armored knees to examine the injury. He tore off his poncho and stuffed some of it into the wound to stave the bleeding.

"Hey, mate," he said quietly, trying to soothe the wounded man, "you're- you're gonna be all right. You're gonna be fine." He looked around the bar, lingering on the three militiamen loafing about- weren't they supposed to keep things like this from happening?- and asked, "Anyone know if the doctor next door's in?"

William looks towards the man and chokes out something inaudible, he feebly attempts to point towards a glass of liquid on a table near them. He groans in pain, but does not say anything understandable

In situations like this, it was best to comply with what the experts instructed. Levi was no expert in the field of medicine and treatment of wounds, but the militiaman who had ducked in to help- and about time too- certainly seemed to know what he was doing. Levi continued to apply pressure on the wound, lifting his now-bloody poncho away long enough for some salt to be applied. His own breathing became a bit heavier.

The shot victim made some sort of noise and tried to gesture to something; Levi gently pinned his hand to the floor to keep him still. "Shhh, shhh," he said. "Keep still, mate." He glanced in the general direction of where the victim had tried to gesture, and found a glass of clear liquid. Not bothering to ask its owner if it was OK to take it, he took it, and took a tiny sip from it. He coughed; yep, that was the stuff.

"Vodka," he said to the militiaman, handing him the glass.

She heard the sound of a gun going off, that tell tale zip of an energy weapon and the zing in the air caused goose bumps to prickle at her arms. The blonde twisted in her seat, slower to act than the armored stranger she had been conversing with. Her glass of whiskey was somehow forgotten as she watched the dark crimson pool across the floorboards. There was so much blood. It wasn't like she hadn't seen blood before, she had killed her fair share of things but there had been no mental preparation on her part. So she sat there on the bar stool, frozen, completely and utterly useless as the room seemed to burst into chaos around her.

As if on autopilot, the woman slipped from the stool and moved over to the man who had gotten shot in the throat. The card player with the itchy trigger finger who had disturbed her good mood. Her lips twisted into a frown, cold blue eyes watching the plasma bubble from his mouth. Her new found drinking buddy seemed preoccupied with the other guy and so did whoever it was that was trying to stitch the guy up. But this one, this one wasn't receiving any aid. She figured he had about thirty seconds to live before he suffocated on his own blood. It was a hell of a way to go, but she wasn't sympathetic. No, sympathy was for those who had died in ways that were not owed to them. This man, this man seemed like his death was a long time coming. His shaky hand reached up towards her, grasping the edge of her onyx leather boots in a pathetic plea. She shifted her foot back, denying the man the contact he so desperately wanted and then she smiled -just slightly- as she watched that light fade from his ugly brown eyes.

Gwen looked over her shoulder at the trio, making note of the way the armor-clad drinking partner of hers was so desperately trying to soothe the man. He could be saved, but there was no point of telling the man he would be fine. She didn't understand it, but she decided that she had no need to. It would have been a waste of energy. Her gaze roamed to the other man, humming a bit to herself in interest. She pulled a lighter from inside her jacket pocket twirling the metal object in the palm of her hand, mentally debating on if helping was what she really wanted to do. It would gain her nothing but a headache. But would she really lose anything either? Besides lighter-fluid. Which wasn't cheep on a planet like this and this particular lighter had come with her from Earth.

"You know, I'm not sure if I'd trust him to be your nurse. He's a little cagey and that bedside manner could use a little work." She mused, palming the lighter for another moment before deciding to pocket it after all as she marched passed them. In a place like this there had to be at least one hot-plate behind the bar right? Gwen maneuvered around the back of the bar, found the item in question, and quickly brought it to the man with a mildly amused expression. String for stitches....she might have had some on her person. But again what would she have gained? Glacier orbs dragged to the man bleeding on the floor, he did look a little worse for wear. Her features twisted into a scowl, obviously at war with if she wanted to actually help or not. Finally, after a long moment she opened her satchel and rummaged through it. Muttering under her breath, she produced a fine piece of thread that looked suspiciously like dental floss with a tiny fish hook that was deftly tied at the end.

"Here. Use it if you must." She grumbled, thrusting the final piece of his requested items at him.

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Communicating with: The Armored drinking buddy capMARVELOUS and The New Guy Bill Nein
Mentioned: The dude bleeding out on the floor Rockwithfries

The Rover blasted over the dark red hills of dust that made up much of Mars, not slowed by the rough terrain or the planet's significantly lower gravity.

Lucy had made herself comfortable in the passenger seat, her slender legs propped up on the dashboard as she idly flicked through a data pad, unperturbed by the bumpy ride.

"You seemed rather put out when that Mechanic took you for a Bounty Hunter," She noted, as she swiped to another screen - one displaying the surface of Mars. A small predatory smirk appeared on her face.
"He was never good at hiding. Keep heading west darling."


---

IINTERACTION: B BlueClover

Quinn's eyes snapped open, snoring cut short, catnap concluded, his head spinning violently. With obvious intent, Quinn surveyed the room again with a scowl, taking note of the increase in patrons.

"Who... who the fuck are these guys?" asked Quinn to his mechanical accomplice.

"You've been out cold for a while buddy! Too much liquor?" came Jay's chipper tone.

"I am the liquor" grunted the bum, taking a swig from the dwindling bottle to his left, before turning his body away from the bar to face the milling crowd accumulated within the saloon.

"Yo Jay...."

"Yeah!"

"You think this Finch thing.... think it's a good idea?"

"He's a certified grade A badass Quinn... you tell me!"

"Hmmmm"

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmm"

"Hmph"

"Maybe not" mumbled Quinn to Jay under his breath.

"Scan the air.... get us something... something uhhh... interesting" Asked Quinn loudly, head tilted towards his stolen arm.

"Sure thing! I'll get on it right away!" Exclaimed the excitable disembodied voice.

Quinn, still unaware of how conspicuious he was among the den of professionals, continued, again obnoxiously loud.

"Look for.... Look for Khodai raids... fuckin Khodai Jay... I want a damn Turkey shoot Jay... a God damn Turkey shoot... find me--

-- find me some fuckin Khodai raids Jay or I'll put you in the scrap" rambled Quinn. Burps and drunken pauses scrambling his scratchy, and easily overheard words.

"You uhh... you sure Quinn?" Asked Joey, concerned.

"Just do it.... need the Khodai parts Jay.... the parts Jay.... we can get money for the parts." Quinn argued, eyes wild, a hunger for money growing in his gut.

Hell0NHighWater
Snackofthefuture

Downing his sixth glass, Rothe slumped back in his chair, already regretting his choice of alcohol. "Godddddddd, why didnt I just smoke some dank??" He drawled as he tried to straighten his back.
Alcohol didn't go well with his system, but for some reason Verdante couldn't stay away. He handled other drugs far better in his own personal opinion.
He flinched, reaching swiftly for his sidearm as the sound of laser discharge filled the room, originating over by the poker tables. Some idiot had shot another idiot in the chest. He watched disinterestedly as several patrons rushed to the shot man's side. Trying to help him it seemed.
Shrugging as he regained his sense of self, Rothe noticed the man with the robot arm muttering. Rothe smiled as he heard the words "fuckin Khodai raids Jay" drizzle from the drunk cyborg's mouth.
"This guy has dealt with Khodai before." He thought to himself as he got up and began to walk over to the man.
"I heard you mention Khodai buddy" he said as he took a seat next to the man. "Ive been looking to see one since I got here, and If youre dealin with em, I want in."
Seeing real alien life had been one of the main reasons the Drug Dealer had got himself assigned to the Mars frontier component. Rothe had been itching to interact with one of them
since he'd made landfall. They just intrigued him, the strange insect-like creatures he'd seen in Holo-tapes on his way over, they seemed like a interesting people.
Dangerous, but interesting.
"Say, If youre looking to go out and catch a couple or somethin, im willin to help out im thinkin, so long as I get some of the pickings" he smiled as he ordered another drink from one of the server bots nearby. The cyborg didnt look like the most savory of types, but then again, it wasnt like Rothe looked much better. Looking around, Rothe noticed that none of the Bar's patrons looked much better, if not worse.
"Nice crowd..." he whispered as he fished a Glostik out of his pocket.
Biting the end off he lit the narrow package's contents and waiting merely a second more, downed it's contents in one gulp.
"Dont worry, Glostiks are legal in the frontier. I think." he murmured as he waited for the grungy looking man to respond.

Interacted with: Uncultured
Mentioned: Rockwithfries

Erica Branton

As Erica jotted down the two customer's orders, a warning beep sounded from the kitchen, followed by a crash. "Excuse me a moment," she said as she ran back into the kitchen. Tina Candice sat on the floor, smoke pouring out of her hover-motor. "Of course," Erica muttered. "Jenna, you there?"

After a moment, Jenna said, "What?"

"Tina Candice blew a fuse."

"Sure looks like it," Jenna said. "I'll be over in a sec to do some emergency maintenance. At least the food's okay."

"Ain't that the-" A gunshot rang out in the bar. Erica ducked down, handgun in her hand, and said, "Damn it, I knew that Marshall was going to cause a shootout. Jenna, give me a sit-rep."

***

Jenna Branton

Jenna scanned the bar, looking for the source of the gunshot. Another shot rang out, and now there was someone dead on the floor while another bled out. When the serving bots went to assist, Jenna overrode their programming and forced them to the side. "Looks like a dispute over gambling," Jenna said. "All the shooters are down, so you should be safe. Might want to get yourself out there to calm the situation."

***

Erica Branton

"Understood," Erica said, holstering her weapon and rushing out of the kitchen. A few patrons were scrambling over one of the injured patrons, while the rest of the bar either watched the scene intently or acted as if nothing happened. Erica grabbed Bouncer and, after swiping a stray credit chit, set it on the counter. "If I see anyone reach for their weapon, I'm gonna shock you into next week. Don't care what side of the law you're on, nobody is shooting up my bar."

"Not what I meant," Jenna mumbled over the radio.

Hell0NHighWater capMARVELOUS Bill Nein Snackofthefuture Rockwithfries