The bar was teeming with people, and it seemed a few new people were coming inside the tavern. There were already a lot of people at the tavern already, and they all seem excited about one thing: that god damn captain that had walked in. But oh, it got worse. Then he decided to open his trap and say he needed a crew. Well at that point the place went ape shit. People were all pushing and shoving, climbing over each other to get a chance to talk to him. That is, until a man who looked like he hadn't showered in days came to the front, but his head reflected more light than a clean mirror. And he looked middle aged. But apparently the captain seemed to like these qualities in a man, maybe it was the mustache. Who knows, but they seemed to sift through the crowd and sit a table a few feet behind Ash.
The crowd seemed to settle down, a little bit, and for good reason. It was giving him a headache. And as he downed his... Shit he couldn't even count right now, but it was a large number of alcoholic beverages he consumed before this particular one. Back to the point, as he did this, he was actually contemplating the thought of adventuring on a ship. It didn't seem like too bad of an idea. He had been on an airship once before, but not for long. He was hired muscle for a crime syndicate. He kept them safe, killed people, he got money. Now it was most likely going to be under different circumstances, but it would probably be the same gist.
Suddenly the crowd spoke up in anger, all milling up behind him and flooding around their table as each one wanted to join whatever adventure they planned to go on. They all wanted a fair shot. They all wanted to be rich. They all were butt hurt and needed a god damn tissue. Then somebody bumped into Ash's chair, spilling the last of his alcohol. He had a headache, there were loud, sweaty, annoying people around him, and now they spilled his alcohol... Ash broke the glass in his hand, placing the broken pieces on the edge of the bar. He reached into his holster, pulled out his shotgun (it had no bullets loaded) and cocked it before shooting up at the ceiling, a flash of gunpowder and a large boom in response. It got dead silent.
"Next time, it'll be loaded, and pointed at one of you assholes."