It was a dive where you can feel the tension in the air the moment you walked it. The broken dreams that were abandoned here almost crunched under your feet as you walked to the bar. This was no place for the lighthearted, this is where hope went to die.
Why were you here? This was your spot, the place where you drowned your sorrows after a long day of work. Over in that corner you stabbed Big Jim for getting too fresh, and on the dance floor is where you punched out Rhonda for the same reason. This was your place...even if you did have to let some of your dreams die...you weren't dead inside like most of these dregs. There was still a little hope, a desire to leave this place...
This was all set to be a quiet and normal night of beating away the scum while holding out hope something better would come along...that something interesting would happen...
and then he walks in.
This tall man who seemed to walk out of one of those ancient Earth movies, he wore a suit...HE WORE A FUCKING SUIT! Fine pressed made of the deepest black and the most dazzling blue. The goatee on his face was well trimmed, hair well kept. What the hell was he doing here? Why would someone like him come to a place like this?
His order was a simple glass of whiskey neat. Not something anyone ordered here, it was terrible...something most do on a dare. Yet he did...and he downed the contents of the glass, and smiled...that smug bastard smiled. Not some cocky mocking smile. He was genuinely happy to be drinking that crap.
You want to go up and talk to him, but the words catch in your throat. So much irritation. This pretty boy who liked terrible whiskey...it was almost making you mad at this point. You should go give him a piece of your mind, chew him out just for being here. That asshole has no right being here.
...but Mikey stands up.
...oh shit you won't even have a chance to tell this rat bastard pretty boy off because Mikey was going to kill him. This lumbering Cyborg with a hand that can punch through steel and a leg that holds more weapons than a military cargo ship. Shit you forgot about him. You open you mouth to say something but think better of it. Suit boy would have to fend for himself...yet part of you is worried. You haven't said word one to him and you are worried this will be the only time you see him.
What the fuck?
“Hey, you...get out! You don't belong here.”
Mikey's voice was bass and raspy like most anyone else here. Three of his 'crew' stood up with him as well, with their rat faces. Constant chuckling and goading on of their boss.
“Leave now and I won't mess up your pretty little face..umm Suit boy”
Mikey Wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, but he made up for it in sheer brutish strength. Yeah good thing you didn't say that one ou tloud, you were far better than Mikey.
The man in the suit was tall but he wasn't as tall as Mikey. The Fat bastard stood over eight feet tall, the stranger stood just over six. Compared to the the stranger the cyborg was a mountain. Yet, the man smiled and looked to Mikey.
“You know...”
His voice was bass and velvet...warm and yet something sent a chill down your spine. Those two words promised violence and pleasure all at once. Not a hint of fear or anger, just calm..perhaps a touch impish.
“...I thought today was going to be a bad day. I'd have to come here, get dressed up, find a shitty bar and just ask every asshole and low life where I could find Mikey. But no...here you are in all your pig ass crack smelling glory. I only wished I had worn SOME sort of extra strong deodorant. Something to fight that smell."
If you had a cybernetic jaw it would be on the floor right now. He was talking back to Mikey without so much as a hint of fear. His voice still was cool and calm and it made you smile.
“You were looking for ME! Ha ha! Seems you found me! Now what...Pig fucker?”
The laugh from the cyborg was mocking. For the first few moments you could tell that Mikey had nothing to worry about from this guy. But then the strangers gaze locked with his...and the fat bastard paused. When their eyes met thousands of words seemed to exchange. The tension in the air could have been cut by a knife. The expression on the cyborg's face changed. From confident to The OH SHIT I fucked up look. And still not a single word had been said.
What the hell is going on?
Mikey was taking a few steps back when your attention returned to the scene. It was clear he was trying to put distance between himself and the suit. Fear so clear in his one good eye. What did this man do?
“Take him out boys...”
Mikey's voice was shaking
His little rats swarmed in...
This man in the suit just smiled...the dark kind of smile you'd imagine the Devil had...
He moves
and your heart stops...
..it was beautiful
If you had any doubt in you before it was gone...there was no worry for this man in the suit.
His movements were violent poetry, not a step wasted, not a heart beat that wasn't used with purpose.
You could hear the bones cracking with each punch....
See teeth flying
He was faster than he should be
Stronger than he looks
the dance was stunning
but the rats could only keep a tiger busy for so long.
All of them were out cold scattered about the bar. In various poses and they weren't getting back up, not from that beating. Did it last seconds...or hours..oh hell you didn't know.
You grinned when you looked at Mikey
Terror was written on the cyborgs face...
You start to back up, you knew what weapons he had on him and tonight was not a good night to die.
The Stranger looked up with that same unsettling smile and moved faster than he should be able. Before Mikey could even draw a weapon that man was on him and kicked his cybernetic leg so hard it cracked...IT CRACKED!
Was there something beyond terror?
Hopelessness
That is what you saw on Mikey's face right before a right hook lifted the lard ass off of his feet and onto a table that exploded into splinters due to his weight.
He was out cold...
The man stood there for a moment over the body, pulling out a data pad to take a picture and send it in.
What the Fuck...
This suit is a Bounty hunter.
A FUCKING BOUNTY HUNTER?!
They were supposed to be dirty and stupid and brutish, no class sacks of shit and yet here he was. A fucking bounty hunter in a suit.
“Get down here and get this fat fucking bastard. You are gonna want emp disablers for his limbs.”
He said into the application he had up before closing it and turning to the bar to get his second drink, downing it and ordering a third. His throat must be on fire right. But he just smiled and said...
“Thank you.”
He said to the bartender setting a good amount of money on the counter.
It was then his eyes met yours, and he smiles. Warmer this time...dipping his head he winks and leaves instructions with the bartender to cover your tab for the rest of the night...well what was left from the damage he caused anyway.
You only look away for a moment...
Fuck this guy right? Well yeah you want to...NO no he doesn't get to leave like that. You want to yell at him for being in a suit and drinking terrible whiskey and messing up YOUR bar. For being stunning and making your heart stop. You want to yell at him so much he comes home with you...but
you look back...and he's gone.
What the fuck....?
Name: Harlin
Age: 32
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 180
Prefrence: Female
Race: Augmented Human
Job title: Bounty hunter
Abilities:
Super Human Strength/Agility/endurance/durability
Healing factor
Skills:
Cooking
Hunting
Tracking
Meele combat
Ranged weapon combat
Pilot (Small space fighter and freight or Copters for non space)
Mechanic (Cars)
ooc:
Profile is a major work in progress
Pm friendly
Story>smut
No minors or looking like a minor
Harlin can be Sci-fi or Modern I'm good either way.
Not a grammar or post length Nazi, but please more than 2 lines.
DO not open with a post please
Talk to me ooc, i'm chill with that.