Kalliste smoked while Copper talked.
The easiness, the feeling of security that smoking at the Blood Money gave was always welcomed.
"Hm. Fair enough. Haven't seen much of them lately. I'll send the orders down so that they can start shootin' or packin' their bags."
She pulled the smoke again and looked at the new guy.
The cigar dropped and a swift movement of the hand, Nani, was already doing a ready refire cycle sound, with her barrel right in the middle of his eyes.
"Told ya to scram, Bieber. I ain't fancy when i get-"
The man quickly turned away and left the bar.
"Balsy. Turning away when i didn't finished talking. I like that."
She holstered the gun and grabbed the cigar again. With a smoke, she huffed and puffed.
"Ahhh.. So anything else up, Copper?"
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:12:00] Traxit: this is smut stop
John Mackinac was sitting in a booth in the corner of the bar munching on several crab cakes and a foot long cold-cut sub with "the works." Though he was entranced, he heard Jaina's cry of distress.
"Hey Jain, you should really know who I am by now!"
He then noticed there was someone sitting between the two of them.
"Oh wait nevermind!"
Instead of going back to eating peacefully though John thought it would be a good idea to throw a crab cake at the man. So much for a lit cigarette.
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:49:19 AM] Elgatodiablo: You know its nice that you have all that proof and all, Bacon... but I just don't believe you.
Oi Jaina! What's that about shots? Anything juicy? Ideally not the kind of juicy which is actually a frozen body in space that's less intact than a body ought to be?
"Eh. Not quite. More like our favorite garbage trawlers being real stupid. I figure one of might be able to make something of it. That ain't really my specialty."
She punches a few buttons on her datapad and slides it to Copper.
"There. See what you think. Now, if you don't mind, I got a bit of straightenin' out to do."
She grabs the bottle of bourbon and slides in next to Pumpernickel.
Huh, those are interesting. Dunno what all there is to be made of it but, welp, should the matter ever come to table concerning whom is and is not furthering the war effort of who it's troublesome to wave off a shipment to a destination as clearly specific as a jolly green war turtle.
He scratched the jawline which would never know the grace of a true and manly beard (that being his own, as opposed to a sweet gent sitting next to him, because that'd be all manner of curious and totally out of character) and pondered the potential for a moment. Last time he'd had a much larger bomb in his lap and not much had come of it, but could be that where lightning hadn't struck yet it could strike now. Or something. Good -effing- lord that guy with the accent was loud. How was a body supposed to maintain an internal dialogue around here. Was he still thinking to himself? Christ in a handbasket he must be getting old. Ok, quick check, not drooling on myself, pants on the legs, have a vague understanding of where I am and who I am, maybe a shame in the latter case there. Ok. Monologue break... NOW.
Hey, Silver. Clap your eyes on these. Could be it's the sort of thing we can employ to assuage the wounds inflicted by our coarse ways upon the gentle sensibilities of the Liberty Navy.
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