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Episode 6 - Aside 1: Back in Business; The Trust Tavern Inn (Parts Mature Rating)
Topic Started: Jun 14 2017, 11:23 AM (2,008 Views)
The Gypsy Traveler
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The Trust Tavern Inn was the center of town and the best (and only) place to stay when you needed a room. If you are a visitor, this would be where you would stay. The rooms are clean and done up as well as they could be in a small town. The owners want to convey as much class as their pocketbook will allow.

The Tavern itself was nice. A nice bar made of genuine cherry, polished to a shine. Chairs around pretty decent tables were leather covered and the wood floors well taken care of.

It was well attended for a Thursday night, but there was still room for more. This would be a good waiting place for any new folks.
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Elliott Lawson
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Elliott lay on the floor behind the bar, stretched out on his back, his shirt open, thankfully offering a little protection from the cold floor beneath him. Normally when he was laid out on the floor of a bar, he was in the common area, and there was usually a large, angry man standing over him, though that was rare.

For now he was behind the bar, with the staff stepping over him as he tried to finish rebuilding the pressure regulators that operated the bar's taps. The last one had been giving him a hell of a time. He'd replaced several gaskets, two springs, and had soaked the whole assembly in bleach to ensure he hadn't left any remnants from his workshop on it. Now, he was having to re-thread the pipe that the regulator mounted to. Once that was done, he reattached the regulator, swept up the metal shavings he'd created, and collected his tools.

He stood up, and washed his hands in the bar sink. He picked up a glass as the bartender approached, and tested the tap. It poured amber colored beer into his glass, just like it was supposed to.

"Fixed it, Boss." he said, taking a long drink.

The bartender sighed at him, hands on hips.

"You know you have to pay for that, Lawson."

Elliott finished the glass of beer in one go, and set the empty vessel in the sink. He grinned at the bartender, and wiped the few drops of beer that remained on his mustache away with the back of his hand.

"Take it outta my pay fer fixin' yer taps, boss." he said, picking up his toolbox. "I'm gonna go up ta my room and shower off, change clothes. Gotta be presentable fer the women folk tonight."

He patted the bartender on the arm as he passed by, headed up to his rented space.

"Don't worry. I'll be back in time fer supper."
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Hunter Arnell
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"Leave her Johnny, leave her..."
His mouth was dry, dusty with a tinge of copper, blood, his blood, from where his teeth had gnashed against the side of his mouth after being so rudely rolled down the cargo ramp and out into the street like yesterday's garbage. Dust clung to his hair, nose, his sweat-coated skin, rubbing into old scars and wounds as just one more little reminder of how far he'd sunk since the army.

Damn... I've seen better days than this.

Hunter "Wildback" Arnell, ex-Alliance marine, Browncoat sergeant, mercenary drifter and raging alcoholic lay in the dust outside the ship, wind blowing sand past his limp form, wondering with all his might if he should just lay there until he died. His musing were interrupted by the rather painful impact of his duffelbag striking him in the back as his former employer tossed his things out after him.

That was nice of him.

"Arnell! Take yer shit and get gone!" His former employer Captain Robert "Big Bob" Bosstern wasn't at all sad to see him go. They'd been cooped up in close proximity for months in space and Wildback's drinking, smell and other less reputable behaviors had pushed the big bastard over the edge. True to his word, as soon as they set down on a habited planet he'd thrown out his mercenary gunman to begin the search for someone, anyone better.

Still as tempting as it was to simply let the wind beat him to death, that stubborn, undying voice that was his old self refused to give Big Bob the satisfaction of watching the light drain away from his eyes.

Spitting out a mouthful of bloody sand and slinging his bag over his shoulder the Browncoat staggered to his feet. "Hey Bob?" He asked smugly, "Don't you own me something first?"

His former employer sent a stream of Chinese curses that would have made his old drill sergeant cry with joy but, ultimately gave in. Tossing a small bag of coin at his feet, Bob spat after it, "If I ever see you again Arnell, I'll shoot you!"

Picking up the sack and tossing once in the air, Wildback sniped back at the man, "Bob, If I ever see you again, I'll happily shoot myself."

He was halfway down the row before the fat man's screaming faded.

* * * * *
The cigarette hung limply in his mouth, more remaining out of pity than anything else, the smell of nicotine and smoke soaked into his tattered old longcoat further marinating the pungent smell of the thing. A stench of strong alcohol, gunpowder and musk hung around him like a cloud. His hair and beard were unkempt, tangled and in desperate need of maintenance, yet he had another need and strong one that superseded hygiene, work or companionship, drink. His throat was parched, lips cracked and only whiskey could solve his need.

"Come all you young sailor men listen to me, I'll sing you a song of the fish in the sea," he mumbled under his breath, the words of the old sea shanty so familiar they kept his battered mind focused on keeping one foot in front of the other. Spitting out his half-finished cigarette and fetching a new one from his belt pouch with a two-fingered hand, he lit it while stumbling into an inn somewhat humorously titled "The Trust Tavern Inn."

Sitting atop a rickety barstool, Hunter pounded his palm against the wooden counter top, "Can someone find me something to hold my poison? It's been a hell of a day."
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Ariel Duquesne
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Ari found herself at the Trust Tavern Inn.

Funny name... Trust. Maybe it was an omen.

So she mustered up as much attitude as she could and strutted inside. Once she was through the doorway, she took stock of who was there. It was half full, but there were plenty to choose from.

She also found that it seemed to be dinnertime. Perhaps she should grab a bite. Or maybe not.

She found the bar and moseyed her way there and stood next to it. She was about to order Tequila, but she hadn't been able to stomach the stuff since Kerry.

"Whiskey," she ordered. As she waited, she became aware of another man down the way, trying to get the attention of the bartender.

"Can someone find me something to hold my poison? It's been a hell of a day."

Hell of a day? She had a hell of a life and most prominently, a hell of a couple of months. So she turned with her back against the bar and propped her elbows on it as she studied the crowd again.

She's get a couple of drinks in her and then make her move with whomever fancied her the most.



OOC: Ari is wearing this:
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Edited by Ariel Duquesne, Jun 24 2017, 03:19 PM.
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Naniko Meissner
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In sort-of-following Ari, Nani also found herself at the Trust Inn. She thought it was a weird name, but paid it no mind.

Quietly entering, almost sneaking in, she saw several people with plates. Apparently it was dinner-time in this town. Glancing about, she guessed that this was a basic slice of the population of Paquin. Very Basic.

Sliding into an empty booth, she found a menu tucked into the little spread of sauces and spices on the side of the booth table. Flipping through it, she saw the usual standard fare; chicken platters, hamburgers, hotdogs, BBQ sandwiches, ect ect, each with a picture, with words under it. She could definitely eat, considering that the ship had not alot of food right now. Finishing looking through it, she decided on getting a hamburger with everything, and spiced potato slices.

A very average waitress came to her booth "and what is it that you would like ?" she said in a monotone, a notepad in hand. "Yes, a Hamburger, with everything, and chocolate shake." Nani simply said, smiling. The waitress jotted down something, then heel-pivoted and walked away to elsewhere in the bar/ restaurant/ hotel.

Soon enough, a young waiter came by with a plate and cup. "Enjoy, Mac made a fresh batch." Smiling and plonking it down in front of Nani, he then walked off again.

Nani enjoyed the good meal of hamburger and fries, and chocolate shake.
Edited by Naniko Meissner, Sep 25 2017, 05:05 PM.
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Elliott Lawson
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Elliott, fresh out of the shower and smelling like roses (seriously, like roses. Someone had tossed his personal bar of citrus scented grease cutting soap and the Inn only had floral body wash to spare), headed back down towards the bar for his evening's entertainment. It'd become a ritual with him, and one that he quite enjoyed. Get up, eat breakfast, go to work, eat lunch, back to work, shower and liquid dinner with whatever young and pretty thing he could find to warm his bed for that night.

Odds were he was well on his way to wearing out his welcome in this corner of Pacquin, but that was no real surprise. That's how he did things. Work his way (literally and figuratively) through a town, and move on to the next. No ties, no strings, no body holding him to a place.

He liked it that way. It allowed him to do what he wanted, when he wanted, and pretty much escape all responsibility, which was something his parents had been good at, trained him well to do.

As he rounded the corner and started down the stairs into the common area of the tavern, his eyes lighted on two likely options for the evening. One was across the room, digging into what seemed to be a larger burger than Elliott himself had ever been served. His stomach growled a bit, but he mentally shushed it.

'You ain't the part I'm focused on feedin' right now, so shaddup.'

His second target, for that's what she became as he looked at her fully, was dressed in...well, he wasn't sure how to describe it, other than small, tight, and leather, with zippers for easy access and a look on her face that said she was spoiling for...a fight? A rut? Something. She was tense, and had the air of someone who wouldn't take kindly to the type of attention he was looking to give.

"Perfect." he muttered softly to himself.

He walked up to the bar, and seated himself a stool away from her, and saw the bartender place a glass of whiskey in front of her. As it was delivered, a newcomer stepped into the bar, and Elliott was grateful for his habit of bathing regularly. The smell of the guy hit him from several yards away, and he had to snort to keep it from latching itself inside his nose.

He'd been about to order a beer, but decided that he needed something a little more aromatic to drown out his olfactory senses. He motioned to the bartender.

"Alright, Boss. How's about some supper? I'm feelin' a little whiskey. And leave the bottle. I have a feeling I'm gonna need it." he said, casting what was supposed to be a nonchalant glance over at the newcomer, but wound up resting on the lovely lady next to him.
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Ariel Duquesne
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Ari tagged the good looking guy as soon as he came down the stairs. He looked nice and more than attractive enough.

He was a definite possibility.

And it looked like he might be quite amenable to the idea, especially because he gave her the once over pretty quickly.

You can do this, she told herself. Gotta get my life back on track.

He came and sat just a chair awa and she turned a bit to give him the once over from a closer perspective.

He was cute and looked like he took care of himself. She decided that it would be easier if her conquest was easy on the eyes.

She jerked a little when a guy to the other side slammed his hand onto the bar, but quickly figured out he was trying to get the attention of the bartender.

"Alright, Boss. How's about some supper? I'm feelin' a little whiskey. And leave the bottle. I have a feeling I'm gonna need it."

Boss? He worked here? She found that she was a bit hungry too. She was about to say something to the bartender too, but his eyes came to hers.

He was interested. So she smiled at him.

"Hey stranger..." she greeted. as she moved down the bar to sit right next to him. "Name's Ari. What's good here?"
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Hunter Arnell
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"Leave her Johnny, leave her..."
Hunter sat patiently on the rickety old stool chewing on the inside of his lip out of old habit while keeping the cigarette held tightly in his mouth with the opposite row of teeth. He casually began rapping out one of his old shanty tunes with his two-fingered hand, thumb and pointer ratt-a-tattating with the best of drums. He wanted his whiskey, needed it, the mop of hair on his head clinging damply to his skull through the power of sheer sweat testifying to that need.

He was in his own world, mind playing hazy memories of the war like those old holovids, quality of those memories was Luh Suh but that's what he expected considering his mental state. As a result of being so deep in his own thoughts he wasn't really paying attention when the woman sat a stool over. It wasn't until he heard her simple order for "whiskey," that he snapped out of his haze, glancing towards the voice. What he saw caused him to inhale his smoke and begin a furious bout of coughing, pounding on his chest with his good fist. She was a looker, a good one but it was what she was wearing that particularly caught the veteran's eye and refused to let go. It was barely covering anything, all leather and zippers, ready for his skilled hands to peel away... All at once he regretted not having taken better care of himself, particularly as she slid closer towards the other guy at the bar.

Damn pretty-boy, I could kick his ass six days a weak, twice on Sunday. What's he got going on better than me?

A quick whiff of his own stench answered the question punctually enough, still, it shouldn't have mattered that much. Maybe he would go talk with this leather-clad woman. Unfortunately another bought of coughing erupted and put that plan on hold.

I gotta cut down on the smokes.
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Elliott Lawson
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"Hey stranger..."

Elliott turned to face her as she slid onto the stool next to him, putting his right knee closer to her than might have been strictly friendly for new acquaintances. She was prettier than he'd given her credit for with his first appraising glance. And taller. And more muscular. All things that worked in her favor.

Or in his favor.

Whatever.

She wasn't shy or coy about moving in on him at all, and he could almost hide the smile on his face, but not quite. A girl who made the first move?

Yeah.

This was a good sign.

"Name's Ari. What's good here?"

He slid the glass over towards her, and poured her a drink of the whiskey that the bartender brought him. He reached over the bar with his long arm, and snagged another glass for himself. He only slightly flexed as he did so, making the muscles in his arm stand out.

"Welp, pretty lady, whiskey's always a good fer a start." he said, raising his glass to her, and tossing it back. "Name's Elliott. I fix stuff around here. Keep everything running nice and smooth."

He poured himself a second drink, and settled comfortably onto the bar, giving her his undivided attention, and a smile that he knew to be somewhat dazzling.

"Question is, are ya jest here ta drink? There's a kitchen here too, that ain't half bad. The notion being that yer...ya know...hungry."

Elliott, the man of a thousand romantic conquests (in his own mind, anyway), the newly reborn spirit of Giacomo Casanova himself, and the 'Verse's gift to women, was nearly as guileless as a lamb, and there was no doubt what he actually meant.
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Ariel Duquesne
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Ari grabbed the glass that she was given and drank it down so the guy could pour her another. He also poured him one. She watched his arm as he did it and although she knew he was showing off, the flex was still attractive.

"Welp, pretty lady, whiskey's always a good fer a start." "Name's Elliott. I fix stuff around here. Keep everything running nice and smooth."

She blinked slowly at the thought that he fixed things around there. Should she even consider him now? There was probably a good chance he could end up crew of the Gypsy Traveler, but she covered her expression pretty well. She also didn't care anymore about Rule #3. She was tired of living by the rules and just wanted to live.

"So you are saying you are good with your hands?" she baited him. "You know... I'm an acrobat. In here with the circus that landed outside town? I am very flexible."

He poured himself another drink and went on.

"Question is, are ya jest here ta drink? There's a kitchen here too, that ain't half bad. The notion being that yer...ya know...hungry."

She was a little hungry, but she wanted more and more to satisfy the hunger she actually came here for. She could get food afterwards at the ship.

"Drinking is good. Food can wait," she said as he was quite aware what she wanted and seemed quite willing to give it to her. "I have other needs too. What do you say we find somewhere a little less busy? Maybe you can show me your formidable skills?"

She slid her hand into his and pulled herself flush against him, using the other to slide a finger down his chest.

"C'mon," she said, crooking her finger as she let go and walked towards the back of the establishment, looking for an empty room, a supply closet or hell, even a clean alley.

If he wanted her, all he had to do was follow.
Edited by Ariel Duquesne, Jul 24 2017, 12:40 PM.
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Reno Carson
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Reno arrived at the Trust Tavern Inn just in time to see Ari leaving the bar area, probably with the good looking guy hot on her trail. He gave the guys a glare that meant that even know he might not know Reno or Ari either, he hurt her and he was dead meat. Either that or the guy would just think that he was a wacko. It's not like he came with the aerialist. Jesus, even his head was all screwed up on what he should be doing in regards to her.

Back to the main task, he didn't see anyone he knew, so her went to the bar to get a drink. His contact was supposed to be there. And he was supposed to know the guy.

"Could I have an Ale?" he asked the bartender. It was then the stench hit him.

Nooo.... It couldn't be...

He turned towards it and indeed, there was his contact with a drink in his hand and smelling like he came off a three week bender.

"Jesus Christ, Hunter," he said as he stepped back. "Did you shower anytime in the last, say, century? You reek!"

Dear God, he needed to get the guy a room and fast. They had a lot to talk about and he wasn't going to be able to if his eyes and nose burned off his face.

Seriously, how did he even get into the bar?
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Naniko Meissner
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Nani had finished eating her burger, and was now enjoying the rest of her french fries and chocolate shake, smiling to herself as an old song popped into her head -my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard-, when she saw Captain Reno come in. Maybe he was hungry too ?

"Jesus Christ, Hunter," he said as he stepped back. "Did you shower anytime in the last, say, century? You reek!" Reno exclaimed, looking at some crusty looking guy that looked like he had been through the bad part of every city in the known worlds of the verse, with no breaks. Nani considered herself lucky that she was up-wind of the two, or else she might have wet-heaved (and thus wasted) her freshly eaten meal up onto the table and floor.

Edited by Naniko Meissner, Aug 6 2017, 03:01 PM.
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Hunter Arnell
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"Leave her Johnny, leave her..."
The leather bound woman practically draped herself over the other guy. "Drinking is good. Food can wait. I have other needs too. What do you say we find somewhere a little less busy? Maybe you can show me your formidable skills?"

She pawed and rubbed hands all over him, making overtures and sauntering off like he was a gift of God and she just had to have him. She swayed as she walked and Hunter would be damned if he wasn't dumbfounded by that swaying motion in her ass. How did women manage to do that?

"Goddamn showoff," he mumbled at the other man, really more out of jealousy than any other real reason. Hell, that other guy hadn't even tried that hard, hadn't tried at all really...

He was halfway down that first glass of oh so sweet whiskey when he heard the voice. It took all his composure to avoid spitting the beverage all over the stained counter-top as memories came flooding back in a rush. The war, Serenity Valley, Tara and so much more...

There's no way in hell that's him. He's gotta be dead by now! Ghosts! All my old comrades ghosts! What the hell is in this whiskey?


"Jesus Christ, Hunter, Did you shower anytime in the last, say, century? You reek!"

Hunter Arnell drained his glass without looking towards the voice. He had to do it, had to steady his nerves. Reno Carson hadn't seen him since...well since he'd gone and lost those fingers...and so much more besides them. He couldn't believe there could be so friendly a face on this rock, but he had to look.

Hunter turned in his stool and sure enough, standing there looking as handsome as ever was one Browncoat demo-man named Reno. "It really is you, huh. He glanced back towards the empty glass, "Thought it was just the whiskey." He stood tall and then, to his surprise as well as Reno's no doubt, took two steps forward and wrapped the man in a bear hug. "It's good to see you! Carson you son of a bitch!" He slapped the man's back several times before releasing him. "You look good too! Well, better than me."

Not that that's too hard right now...

"Haven't seen you since the war! And haven't showered all week," he glanced towards the ground mumbling, "It's been a rough few months."

He turned and gestured to the bartender, "Whatever this handsome bastard has is on me! Saved my ass more than once, least I can do is pick up his tab." He glanced back towards Reno then immediately looked back, "Refill me as well, since you're up."

"So freedom fighter, what brings you to this neck of the woods?"

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Elliott Lawson
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The appraising look didn't go unnoticed, but Elliott just figured it was because he was so gorram pretty. All thoughts past getting her to his room were unimportant. He was on the hunt, and she was more than willing prey, it seemed. He made a mental note to find a challenge sometime in the near future, just to keep his skills sharp.

With that said, he was never one to look a gift horse...or gift attractive woman in the...well, you know the old saying.

"So you are saying you are good with your hands? You know... I'm an acrobat. In here with the circus that landed outside town? I am very flexible."

Two thoughts hit Elliott like primary buffer panels falling off of gorram ships for no apparent reason.

'Is...is she seducing...me? he wondered silently, shoving away the thought of the myriad ways they might could explore her flexibility. "That's new."

"Uh, yeah, I fix stuff. Hell yeah. I'm the best mechanic yer gonna find on this rock. If it's got parts and ain't breathin', I can make it work good and proper." he said, remembering that he was supposed to be in charge of the seducing around here. "And I do good work on things that breathe, too."

"Drinking is good. Food can wait...I have other needs too. What do you say we find somewhere a little less busy? Maybe you can show me your formidable skills?"

She pressed her body against his, and he immediately regretted the social norm of wearing clothes. He hadn't realized how warm he'd gotten until her skin touched his, a few pleasant degrees cooler.

"C'mon."

Elliott watched as she walked down the hallway, towards the only guest room on the first floor. He didn't look at his pocket as he reached in and pulled out a handful of credits. He slapped them onto the bar, and picked up the bottle of whiskey.

"Thanks, Boss." he said to the bartender. "Also I'm renting that room fer the night."

He stepped behind the bar, grabbed the appropriate key, and followed her down the hall. He caught up with a quick few steps, and offered her both the bottle and the key.

"We're right here, on yer left." he said, nodding at the unmarked door. "Ya fancy another drink before we get started, or should I jest start tearing yer clothes off right now?"
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Reno Carson
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Without even looking at him, Reno watched Hunter Arnell slam back the drink he had in his hand before turning to him.

"It really is you, huh." "Thought it was just the whiskey."

Reno couldn't help but smile at the guy.

"No whiskey is that good that it could imitate me!" he joked, puffing out his chest.

But what he didn't expect was Hunter took two steps and put him in a bear hug.

"It's good to see you! Carson you son of a bitch!"

Reno didn't know what was worse, the back slapping or the stench. He almost retched, but Hunter finally released him. Reno stumbled back a bit, trying to recover while trying also to do a memory dump of what it smelled like close up.

"You look good too! Well, better than me."

Dear God... Did his clothes smell of Eau de Hunter Arnell now? Reno couldn't help but take a test sniff.

"Haven't seen you since the war! And haven't showered all week," "It's been a rough few months."

Rough? Reno opened his mouth to ask, but Hunter was on to his next topic.

"Whatever this handsome bastard has is on me! Saved my ass more than once, least I can do is pick up his tab." "Refill me as well, since you're up."

Yeah, Reno so didn't think so and motioned to the bartender to negate the drinks and pretty much anything alcoholic Hunter could get him hands on.

"So freedom fighter, what brings you to this neck of the woods?"

Reno looked around the bar and noticed no one out of the ordinary. That meant only one thing. He leaned in a little, as much as his nose then burned.

"Well, I am thinking that I might just be waiting for you," he said quietly. "Are you perhaps looking to take some charitable contributions for a worthwhile cause?"

He hoped he was because he really wanted to get rid of that gorram data stick. Things had not been the most lucky for his crew for the whole time he's had it. And speaking of bad luck, that's when he caught Ari and a guy getting quite close. He pressed his lips together, knowing that what he wanted to do, he couldn't. He wanted to pluck her up and keep her safe at the ship, but he knew he couldn't. Like Hicks had said, she needed to get on with her life and previous to Kerry, this was how she did it. He needed to give her that play, but he didn't have to like it.

"Uh, yeah, I fix stuff. Hell yeah. I'm the best mechanic yer gonna find on this rock. If it's got parts and ain't breathin', I can make it work good and proper."

Interesting... Best mechanic on this rock...

"And I do good work on things that breathe, too."

Reno fought rolling his eyes.

"Drinking is good. Food can wait...I have other needs too. What do you say we find somewhere a little less busy? Maybe you can show me your formidable skills?"

Yep. She was going to do it. And he knew he had to let her.

"C'mon."

Then, with a walk away and a bottle of whiskey, the best mechanic on that rock followed his acrobat out of the room.

"Thanks, Boss." "Also I'm renting that room fer the night."

Reno had to smile a bit.

"You won't get the night lover boy..." he murmured before turning back to Hunter. "The girl... She's crew. She hasn't had it well lately."

He saw Nani not that far.

"Nani," he called out to her. "Don't get in her space, but keep an eye on Ari. He does her wrong, she even breathes funny... You have my permission to shoot him. Dong ma?"

Then he turned back to Hunter.

"Another crew," he explained. He wrinkled his nose up. "Are we going to talk? And if we do, can we do it after a shower and a change of clothes before they send a hazmat team to deal with your fall out here?"

God he hoped the guy had other clothes.
Edited by Reno Carson, Aug 10 2017, 08:54 PM.
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