Steam and Steel Options

[Rohirrim]

Jonah stepped into the morning sun from the darkness of the tailor shop. He carefully situated his goggles on his face, hitched up the rifle strap on his shoulder, and went to find some lunch. This was the slaughterhouse district, so a broiled beefsteak or kidney and some drink wouldn't be too hard to find. Spotting the double doors of a saloon, he stepped in and grabbed a seat at the bar. He held up his flask and dropped a penny on the bar. "Refill, please. Whiskey." The bartender silently obliged him, and Jonah took a swig. He winced. Rye, always rye, he thought, what I wouldn't do for some good old bourbon. He let the whiskey coat his mouth then put down a nickel. "Two kidney chops, my good man." The barkeep went into the kitchen to place Jonah's order. Satisfied it was being taken care of, Jonah looked around. The synth-piano played a gay tune, and some women of questionable virtue, as well as several other patrons, were around. He hiked up his bowler hat, letting his bangs fall down, and removed his goggles, putting them on his forehead. He cast a glance at the bounty board hanging at the end of the bar. Maybe, he thought, maybe.

This post has been edited by Rohirrim: Oct 26 2013, 05:33 PM

[Callidus Thorn]

Gregor paused as he stepped into the saloon, loitering in the entrance, the pale morning light behind him and the brim of his stetson casting a shadow across his face. He smiled, the cold, grim smile of a predator as he scanned the room, his practised eyes darting from face to face. Saloons like this were where people come to hide, to avoid problems, he'd made good money in the past in places like this, but not today.

He made his way to the bar, his right hand never straying too far from his holster as he walked, making his way to the far end before taking a seat, turning slightly to keep the entrance in sight. The bartender was already waiting for his order as he sat down. "Gimme something to wash the dust outta my throat, then gimme a shot of something worth drinking" Gregor placed his left hand on the bar, the fingers tapping away, while his right hand rested on his leg, covering the holster.

He threw a glance over the others sat at the bar, weighing them up with an experienced eye. A young guy checking out the bounty board, not in the trade, just a look at him gave that away. Too neat, too tidy, with an engineer's rifle slung over his shoulder. Near him was a tin plated dandy. It seemed to Gregor that cybe's only came in two types; those that showed off how basic they were, and those that tried to make 'emselves artistic. Gregor never met a dandy he liked. He was talking to a red-haired harlot. Good looking, reminded him of-. Gregor's mind veered off that thought, and turned his attention to his drinks, knocking back the cheap one and grimacing.

He caught the eye of the guy checking out the bounty board. "Anythin' good up there?"

This post has been edited by Callidus Thorn: Nov 3 2013, 04:07 PM