The wild wild Space.

[HellOfALife]

"Its always gotta be rain, always gotta be fucking rain.

A strap was pulled out of taut pants, which were sullied with liquid rain. Just feet away from the entrance of the closest building she could reach, a young woman cursed to herself under the dimming night, and the patters of rain here and there. Stretching her shirt out to twist water from it. She had walked maybe eight blocks in the torrential downpour and could feel a chill just sitting under the crevice of her nose, right on her philtrum. No doubt, her body was going to have a field day with the fever the rain would produce. Though in the end, she had no choice, her mini jet sat in the main hanger of MARKET 1, and she was forced to leave it there in case those Zebra's from two weeks ago were still attempting to follow her trail across each of the stations. She was marked by the gang, and would need to be disposed of, this much she gathered from their attempts to kill her and the agent who sought her company for those few months. Suddenly she stared into the nexus of stars above as the rain, and the clouds cleared from the sky and wondered whether or not she secured his safety. Admittedly, she grew to care for him, though in a maternal sense, he had naivete of a child which probably allured him to her anyways.

Her clothes had shrunk and attached to her body in a distressing pattern. The fabric nipped as she walked into the entrance of the club, her ebony hair irradiated as the dim light under the bar cast over her head. She stripped off her jacket as it dripped water onto the bar's floors, which the bartender was quick to quip her about with the scowl he gave her. She nearly flipped him off, but instead gave him a morbid look before tying the cloth around her waist to keep from losing it in case she decided to leave anytime soon. Rhea looked across each of the seats beside her filled with eager men who had famishing eyes, she moved her attention to whatever they were staring at so intently. A woman, maybe a little older, but certainly more sophisticated came onstage. She tipped her head to the side, marveling at her attractiveness and her suave voice. Closing her eyes, she grasped a drink beside her, and listened, leaning on the counter, her lips in a slight pout. She took a sip of what tasted like Bourbon, slightly astringent for someone her size, but she sipped anyways. Imagining the little club as one of those old fancy occasions that the wealthy attended. She wouldn't be too far off with that thought, some of the audience members looked like high rollers. For once it wasn't the loud amplitude of water falling in her ears, but instead pleasant music, and her clothes were drying off in the warm room. Finally, a little stretch of comfort in the last two weeks since leaving her old tedious, apartment based life, in a silent slum. The universe was more than going to the marketplace and buying some groceries. This she felt, was probably even better than the life she lived before even that, the life she could not recall or maybe she forced herself not to dwell on it.

Before she knew it the song ended, she stared around and noticed one of the men rushing backstage, and most of the others either turning back to the bar, or leaving. She placed her drink down, took a tie out of her small satchel, and bound her hair in a ponytail. It was when she reached into her pocket and tried to scour around for money that she realized that all she had were soggy, deteriorated bills, which folded and tore as soon as she tried to pull them out. At least the bartender went off to serve another customer while she contemplated her plan for escaping. She tapped the counter for a moment, before looking towards the entrance to the backstage as she watched one of the customers leave to no doubt talk to the singer herself. She scooted her chair slightly, being meticulous in the way she sneaked around the bar. She made it seem like she was nothing but a normal customer probably going off to the restroom. She looped around the room, pushing through casual customers and then near the backstage door, to which no one noticed her escaping to. It was when she heard the voice of the I.P.F member, that she backed away, and leaned on an alcove not too far from the stage and the bar, the guards couldn't see her, and she guessed the other man couldn't too. Though she felt that this small little coup would keep her safe, and her senses told her that the restroom would have no window to her luck. She cast off a worried glace towards the bar as her drink sat placid, and the bartender looked around the empty space.

"Shit I have to think of something soon."

[Hueyblade]

Rex could barely enjoy the music with the men across from him shouting obscenities toward Miss Dawson during her performance. All the while though they were playing a serious game of pool. After the performance was over they were clamoring over the current state of the balls. It seemed they were betting on who could make the shot without hitting the eight ball which was surrounded by four other balls. So Rex stood as if he was going to head to the bar and passed the group of men. As he walked by he stopped and looked at the table saying. “Looks like a tough shot. Gonna take some real skill to shoot that.” Jameson chuckled as he sneered, “And you think you can make that shot bub?” Rex replied with a shrug, “I didn’t say that, but I think I could.” “Oh really? OK hotshot lets make a bet. 1000 wulongs says you can’t.” The man smiled confidently in his decision.

“I accept.” Rex bluntly stated as he walked around the table. He grabbed a cue from one of the men and chalked the end of it as he sized up his challenge. Bending over the table he place the cue on his hand and measured his power for the cue ball. Then SNAP! The cue bounced off one ball then one of the side walls of the table. All the balls except the eight ball had been touched and were now flying along the felt table top. Then as if by the hand of god all the balls sunk into individual corner pockets leaving the eight ball ripe for the picking. The cue came to rest at an angle from the eight ball to which to sink it into a side pocket. Finishing the game Rex sunk it and lifted an outstretched palm saying, “I guess I get those wulongs fella.” Jameson face burned red with embarrassment and fury. “You little con artist son of a bitch! You played us! I’m gonna get you!” Chasing Rex out the front door with his comrades following him. Rex led them down the alleyway outside.

Once in the alley Rex ran past a young lady that looked a few years younger than he was. “Excuse me miss, but you might want to move.” Blowing past her with Jameson and the others not far behind. At the end of the alley was a dead end. “Just my damn luck.” Rex thought to himself as he turned to see Jameson and three others with pipes and switchblades in their hands. Rex knew he could take these guys, but they didn’t need to know just yet so with his best worried face and voice he said, “Listen fellas no need to get violent. I meant no harm. Was just joshing you.” “To late for that now pipsqueak.” as Jameson led the assault with an over head swing of his pipe. Rex blocked it with a kick and the following knife attack with a stiff chop. Another swing of a different pipe was blocked with an elbow and the next knife thought he was sneaky coming from behind, but stopped with a Bruce Lee style reverse punch. After the scuffle Rex stood surrounded by unconscious bodies. Grabbing up Jameson Rex tied his hands together behind his back.

[BlackMeat]

When Ted entered the bar, the singer had just finished her performance. He couldn't see the girl's face or get to hear her voice. All he heard was a faint "thank you" from outside the bar while he was waiting in a queue. He saw her sexy back as she turned around to go backstage and thought, "Damn, I hope someone better comes along." Ted came directly to the bartender, who was an acquaintance of his. He had been going here when he was still working with the IPF, usually meeting his squad commander. Ted sat down a rotating stool facing the counter and smiled to the bartender, "Good 'noon, pal." He never knew the bartender's name but he knew his. "Well, isn't this quite a surprise. Ted! How's hunting going on?" "It's different. I get to choose what I do and it pays better." "That's what the others tell me now." "Others?" "A lot has made you their role model and quit IPF soon after, didn't you hear?" "They did the right thing. IPF's broken anyways." "I know the tale. So may I get you the usual?" "Always." The bartender pours a bottle labeled "Farm Boy: Pax-Brewed Whiskey" into a glass with added ice. He took the cup from him and gave him thanks. He turned his rotating stool 180-degrees and leaned on the bar counter. This is how he comfortably sips his whiskey, it makes him forget that a lot of shit happened to him.

Not long after, upon consuming the half of his whiskey, a barfight started by the pool table and a chase happened in front of them. It nearly knocked his whiskey off his hand and nearly bumping into a lady who was near the commotion. The fight moved into the alleyway, just before the bouncers can chase them out. Ted catches the eye of the lady in front of him (OOC: That's you Rhea) and made it awkward for the first two seconds. After which, he smiled to the lady and said "Something you'd expect in a bar like this, huh?"

(OOC: Hell of a Life, if there will be a conversation, shoot me a PM so that we'll do the conversation and post it here a little later. That will avoid ping-pongs.)

[WitchChild]

Frost waited for just a moment before the door opened and Miss Dawson looked through the crack. "alright officer, let me just go ahead and get decent" She said and closed the door again. A few minutes later the door opened again to reveal her form. She had undressed and was now wearing a dark blue bathrobe that went down to her shins, covering her if not the fact she hadn't closed it. Underneath one could she was wearing nothing but her black laced lingerie that only made her somewhat more desirable. Frost swallowed, telling himself that he was a professional.

"Miss Daws-"
"Just Cassandra, please"
"Cassandra, I have some questions about your boyfriend"
Cassandra sighed. "I haven't seen him and probably never will. I've told other officers the same"
"I know. But I want to ask you about his contacts. Would he have a safehouse somewhere"
"None that I haven't already given to the police"
"Alright. Would he have some buddies on the street that he may come in contact with?"
"Bonnie is a good friend of his and Clyde, Bonnie's girlfriend"
"Thank you miss-...Cassandra. Is there anything else that you may know?"
"Why are you asking me these questions? The I.P.F have already questioned me. Who are you?"
~Damn. She's sharper than I expected~
"I am officer O'mal-"
"Who are you really?" Cassandra asked and pulled out a 9mm PPK and pointed it at Frost's face. Frost didn't flinch and looked down that barrel.
"I'm a bounty hunter and in search for your ex. He is worth quite alot and I am hoping to get some info from you. And I doubt I'll have to mention your own bounty"
"I think you should leave" Cassandra said, pulling back the hammer with a nice "ci-click" sound.
"I'm not leaving without something to profit" Frost answered and with that the trigger was squeezed. Frost was JUST in time to reach his hand up and the bullet hit his left synthetic arm. It hurt him but not as much as it would've if hit had been real. He quickly reached out and grabbed her gun hand, moving it away from him. She fired some more rounds before he managed to disarm her.

[BlackMeat]

Rhea instinctively backed away from the ensuing chase around the pool table, by now she hoped that the bartender would be distracted from her apparent disappearance, in the mean time she could relax for a bit. It wasn't until a fellow customer bumped into her that she was suddenly snapped from her thoughts. She smiled sheepishly at him, not very used to being disrupted so suddenly.

"Yeah..."

She chuckled as one of the drunk assailants struggled to even overcome his disorientation as he struggled to walk over to the exit, each step garnered another huge effort on his part, causing her to laugh. She looked back to her company. "Man, you're probably the first guy I've met here who didn't look at me like A prostitute. My name is Rhea." She took a step backwards leaning on the wall opposite to her backside.

"Oh! You weren't?" Ted laughs and sips a little bit of whiskey. "I'm just kiddin' miss. If you were a prostitute you'll probably the one who'd try to hit on me. The name's Ted and you'd probably never heard of me." Ted smiles and offers his right hand for a handshake, while his left hand holds a whiskey glass.

"It might be better that way, after all I'm not the safest person to be acquainted with." She returned his hand shake, smiling. The enrgy of the club seemed to die down as the crowd of men seemed to escape into the alleyways around the location. "What's a guy like you doin' here? You definitely don't look like any bounty hunter I've ever seen." She was quick to scrutinize the man in case he came here to nab her for not paying the tab, to which she couldn't have given a rats ass about. She smirked at him, unable to really read him.

"Any bounty hunter, huh? What do I look like then?" Ted chuckles and smiles, being friendly and all. "And would you like me to buy you a drink?"

"Really, you look like one of those tough, weathered cowboys really. What I mean to say is you look like you've been through some shit. And sure, a drink would be good."

Honestly she didn't like the idea of having someone pay anything for her, being a stubborn independent young woman, she almost didn't how to take a courtesy, but considering her current situation, it was better to just let it be. Ted cued a gesture to the bartender that signaled a request for a cocktail drink. He then again turned to his left to respond to the girl. "All of us has been through some shit." He smiled as he handed over the cocktail drink to the lady.

While contemplating on whether or not she wanted to go back to the bar Rhea spoke. "By the way, I heard there's an I.P.F member here, he went backstage though I'm not sure what he plans to do with that singer..."

Ted raised his eyebrows and became curious. What would an IPF Member do in a bar like this, he thought. "IPF Member? What would be a--"

Gunshots were fired loud enough for the two to hear. A little jolt ran through Rhea's body as soon as she heard the shots, turning around and fearing the worse she clutched her own pistol which hid in the holster on her thigh, which no one could visibly see due to her jacket covering most of the other concealed weapons. Reacting on the same stimulus, Ted's left arm, that was free from his hands, drew his handgun from his holster. He placed his whiskey glass over the counter and ducked to hide for cover. Rhea looked back to Ted, smirking as she did.

Realizing something was happening, and the girl he was talking to looked like she'll handle herself, he said, "Speaking of the devil. That's something which is not good. Let's check it out." Ted crawled into the backstage, holding his revolver in a manner an IPF unit is trained to.

"So we aren't so different after all?" She said as she followed Ted over to the scene, she a little more cautious with her approach backstage, as she walked near Ted. "Might want to be careful, doesn't seem like this person is looking for prisoners." She only gripped her pistol harder as they came upon Miss Dawson and Frost. Rhea got the immediate feeling that this was more than a social call. Though she wasn't sure who was in control of the situation or who fired the first rounds, she looked over to the smoking 9mm on the floor below.

Ted quickly stood and aimed his gun to the two struggling for the pistol, the only thing he knows is that one of them is suppoed to be an IPF member and gunshots means one of them is a fugitive. "Well, what do you suppose we do?" Rhea mumbled while eyeing both. Ted, unsure of what to do, said, "We stop them." Rhea guessed that Frost was the probably the first to shoot had it not been for the way he currently grasped her hand. Yet, she would take no chances with either. Rhea spoke to the two, "Anyone want to explain what's going on here?"

[PrimezTime]

Felix began counting the seconds that had passed since the man entered Dawson's dressing room. Eight..Nine..Ten..

The amount of time it took was sort of a factor when considering the intentions of the man. If it took more then then ten minutes then the man was interrogating her or having his pleasure. If they the man came out alone before ten minutes that means he was relaying a message or if he was an associate of Dawson's boyfriend then he could have killed her. If the man and Dawson came out together that means he is either arresting her or if an associate, is hired to be an escort. Whatever the case was, it surely didn't really make this an easy snatch and grab.

About six and a half minutes later, the first shot rang out. The people in the club panicked and made their way to the door. Well almost everyone was making their way to the door. Two individuals, a man and a woman were creeping around the stage and eventually slipped into the corridor to the employee's section. The security guard from before was slammed up against the wall frightened to even move. Obviously he wasn't paid for this. Back to the two from before they continued down the corridor until they had both sides of the door covered. More gunshots rang out as Felix drew his sidearm and ran towards the security guard's position. Felix shoved the security agent down towards the ground and motioned for him to stay there. Felix then glanced down the hallway, eyeing the two from before. Great... I don't think Saint will get her chance after all.

Right as he thought that the door popped open with Saintly herself standing in the doorway with the most disappointed face Felix has ever seen on her. She knew she wasn't going to get her bounty.

---

It seemed like minutes were passing by without so much as a stir. Emma had finally grown tired of standing and collapsed onto a small rutted bucket that seemed to be forgotten about by the previous owner. She sat there staring at the door in disinterest until a commotion emerged from the very alleyway she was positioned in. A couple of guys were running towards her and the 'dead end' of the alleyway. She pressed herself against the wall as they came closer. One man even spoke to her, "Excuse me miss, but you might want to move." Well there wasn't really any place to go so she just hugged the wall the best she could, watching what was unfolding in front of her.

The man who had spoke to her was apparently being chased by the three other men for one reason or another. It must have been over money or something because the three men were clearly in cahoots with each other, leaving that one man fending for himself. Emma rolled her eyes as she reluctantly drew her tazer out of concealment and aimed it towards one of the three men. Before she could even pull the trigger, the fight took an unexpected turn. The lone man had knocked one man out and in rapid succession, knocked the other two out. Emma stared at the man, mouth agate in slight amazement that man came out without a scratch. Before any words were spoken, a muffled bang was heard followed by people pouring out and then more gunshots.

"Oh shit! Felix..." Emma muttered to herself as she ran out of the alleyway and fought her way through the crowd of people to get back inside. Once she got the door she barged in, fearing the worse. However, she met that old man's gaze and a breath of relief came out.

---

Emma ran over to Felix's position, positioning herself behind Felix up against the wall.

"What the hell is happening here?" She whispered to Felix
"You weren't the only one after Dawson, it seems. I think there might be three other bounty hunters and two of them are right there in the hallway." Felix answered in the same hushed town.
"Can't I just have one, Felix? Why did these guys have to butt in?"

[WitchChild]

Immediately when the door burst open Miss Dawson got her acting on and she was good. Tears came to her eyes almost right on command and she started to sob. "Help me, please" She pleaded to those at the door. "He is hurting me"

Frost cursed inwardly, looking back at the newcomers. There was no way for him to reach his gun in time to be able to fight back but he did think of something. He quickly pulled her and got behind her, his bad arm around her, under the shoulder and on her other one, and his good arm quickly drew his knife. He narrowed his eyes at the ones at the door, especially the big guy with the big gun. "I'm a bounty hunter. She is worth some cash and I am taking her in" He said, the point of the knife against Dawson's throat. He was not gonna risk getting shot again, especially with that cannon in the big man's hand. He hoped that he would be able to leave with just his current injury.

"HE IS TRYING TO KILL ME" Dawson shrieked, more tears running down her cheek, her fingersnails digging into his arm.

[Effervescent]

Ell sighed heavily as she strode away from the shop, staring into the plastic bag she grasped in her hands. Food for money was tight, even though she'd just brought in a head. Not only was the reward small, the chase was horrible, he could barely put up a fight even with a head start. "Ah, what was the point?" Swinging the plastic bag over her shoulder, mind wandered to the money she'd put aside for her bad habits. For a moment, she couldn't help but think about quitting drinking... For a moment. She laughed lightly, shaking her head at herself. It was a ridiculous thought, really. She'd docked at Market 1 several hours ago, and she'd yet to have a drink; her fingers were starting to itch. She hadn't realized haggling for food would take so long, or be so poorly received. Her agitation had already resulted in a few fights, earning her a bit more food than she thought she'd take back with her; it seems the key is to bugger up their business. Though her stomach ached, as far as she was concerned it was time to find a drink, and certainly not at the Bebop. She'd attempted it once before, but it seems they're not generally very welcoming to people that look as 'filthy' as she does. That's how the bouncer had put it, at least. "I hate jazz anyway." Eyes narrowing as she drew closer to the scorned bar, Ell quickly stopped as the building erupted into a hub of activity. A rather young man was chased out by a group of angry drunkards, a series of gunshots inside following shortly after.

"... What the fuck?" More curious than anything, Ell decided to follow behind the group of angry drunks, the Bebop's entrance flooded by frightened patrons struggling to make their escape. It was quite ridiculous, actually. Like untrained clowns trying to squeeze into a clown car as they all back up at the doorway. Laughing softly she made her way to the end of the alley, just in time for the show. Leaning against a wall as she watched Rex work, she was pleasantly surprised. She of all people should know better than to judge scrawny folk, but she couldn't really help herself. When the rather one-sided fight had finally drawn to a conclusion, Ell sighed rather heavily. "Well, I guess you don't need my fuckin' help, then," she muttered under her breath, losing interest rather quickly. Patting the bulky pistrol strapped to her exposed rib, Ell turned back out of the alley, curious about the goings-on inside the Bebop. After all, what could possibly make that many people stampede out, leaving behind half full drinks they'd already paid for.

Kicking the enterance doors open gently with her foot, she was just in time for the little show, the blond singer in tears, a knife to her throat. Brow raised, Elle shook her head as she strode in calmly, pleasantly surprised by the lack of bouncers. It seems one just can't find good help these days. Throughout the gent's short speech, she had to admit, the frail woman is his arms was putting on quite a decent show. Ell had seen her on the Roundup, so she had little reason to question him, but she just felt she needed to get her snide remark in edge wise. "You might consider a change in profession, bud. Head hunters aren't generally pervy to takin' fuckin' hostages." She was never partial to the term 'bounty hunter'. More often than not, she certainly wasn't hunting the reward, she was more interest in the head a reward had been placed on. Though, she saw no reason for interest in this blond. She'd already been tarnished, and actresses never interested her much. Spotting a nearly full glass on the bar top, Ell's eyes lit up as she took a seat, downing the drink quite quickly.

Through all this, it seemed she hadn't noticed the two closest to her, but it became obvious she actually had when she spat a few words at them. "Just let him squirm off with the little bitch already, nothing less fun than a head that's already been swiped." Shaking a finger at the actress as she finished a final sip of the drink she'd spied, she said very little, though her eyes remained on the two closest to her. She may not be too concerned about the singer, but should they try to take what someone else had claimed... Well, that was just wrong. Someone would have to deal with them, wouldn't they?

[WitchChild]

Frost glared at the newcomer with his almost glowing green synthetic eyes and relaxed his knife. "I agree with you" He said about the comment. "I usually don't take hostages but a couple of guns pointed at me in close quarters can change my mind" he added, the sobbing woman in his arms squirming again. He then looked behind them and narrowed his eyes.

Behind the group by all the tables were about 10 individuals, all showing signs of being bad news in one way or another, all armed with firearms, mainly pistols and SMGs. Behind two guys with Uzis stood what Frost assumed to be their leader.

Joseph "Joey Knife" Simpson


WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE

7 cases of murder in the first degree
Arson
Extortion
Robbery
Drug Trade
Suspicion of Terrorism
Rape

REWARD:
ALIVE: 500,000 WOO
DEAD: 350,000 WOO

"Well well. It looks like some cowboys have come to visit my old sweetheart before me. We can't have that. That bitch might have talked" The leader said, grinning widely. "Kill them all"

There was little cover in the bar unless you'd turn over tables. Joey stayed behind 3 guys so a clear shot was almost impossible. Frost acted quickly, throwing Miss Dawson away from the upcoming fire and dashed right through the people that were blocking him, quickly kicking a table over for a makeshift cover.