Member
Without warning bright sparks suddenly erupt from the frame of the large wooden door, followed by the continuous wine of the warping metal frame. The light slowly follows the shape of the door, the metal glowing white hot. As quickly as the sparks move, so too does the door repair itself. Metal cooling and shifting back into place, splintered wood reforming, the door refuses to oblige the, frankly rude, request for entry.
A loud thump is heard, as if someone with a very inadequate battering ram was attempting to barge in through the, still very much unwelded, door.
“Argh!”
As if on queue the door slowly swings open, revealing a man who is either a cowboy, or is trying much too hard to look like one. Complete with worn hat and duster.
Rubbing his shoulder roughly, a look of pain smeared across his face. A small hand welder at his feet. He quickly notices the, now open, door, and a large grin spreads across his face.
“Hah, knew I’d get it ope-”
He looks around, seeing the distinctly not empty club he was expecting.
“This… This isn’t XYZ is it?” He sighs.“Knew that intel was rubbish. Sorry about the door, I can pay for that.” He says in a distinctly non-western accent, gesturing towards it’s spotless wooden surface.
He makes to leave, when he seems to come to a revelation. Making his way over to the bar, he pulls his coat back slightly, revealing the two large and badly concealed pistols at his sides, and retrieves a few silver credsticks.
“If I’m out a job I can at least make the most of tonight.” The wannabe cowboy pulls out a seat for himself, and sits, only a few seats away from a quite disgruntled looking white haired girl. His head scans the room, seemingly for a bartender.
A loud thump is heard, as if someone with a very inadequate battering ram was attempting to barge in through the, still very much unwelded, door.
“Argh!”
As if on queue the door slowly swings open, revealing a man who is either a cowboy, or is trying much too hard to look like one. Complete with worn hat and duster.
Rubbing his shoulder roughly, a look of pain smeared across his face. A small hand welder at his feet. He quickly notices the, now open, door, and a large grin spreads across his face.
“Hah, knew I’d get it ope-”
He looks around, seeing the distinctly not empty club he was expecting.
“This… This isn’t XYZ is it?” He sighs.“Knew that intel was rubbish. Sorry about the door, I can pay for that.” He says in a distinctly non-western accent, gesturing towards it’s spotless wooden surface.
He makes to leave, when he seems to come to a revelation. Making his way over to the bar, he pulls his coat back slightly, revealing the two large and badly concealed pistols at his sides, and retrieves a few silver credsticks.
“If I’m out a job I can at least make the most of tonight.” The wannabe cowboy pulls out a seat for himself, and sits, only a few seats away from a quite disgruntled looking white haired girl. His head scans the room, seemingly for a bartender.
