Tharog who had been silent for a while, suddenly stood up.
"Oi! Hispanic lassie, show me tae these 'boendshoe' or something like that. I've had enough drinks fer taeday. And ye Navy-lass: I like ye, call me when ye got time."
He drops a little card on the table, with the following information as well as his comm ID at the end. Tharog Frosthearth
DJ of Hell FM
McDowell's Company Fleet
A man wearing a pair of casual dress pants and a light grey-white button-down shirt walkd into the bar. His hair was more or less chin-length, and had an orange-brown hue. He smelled clean and fresh, and indeed looked like a respectable gentleman.
Except for the switchblade-like sword on his left hip and the far less intimidating-looking handgun on his right.
He looked around the bar for a few moments before walking further in and looking around further, noticeably relaxed.
"I guess the Order is right, my dear Izzy. The Order is always right no matter how many innocents you have murdered for your cause. On the other hand, I find extremely interesting that you think you have a chance to win a potential fight. You see, in space, we always come as outnumbered, yet each time we force all of you to retreat under Isis's shields. What makes you think we won't make you retreat under the table here ?"
Scarlet shakes the profered hand happily .
"Scarlet, a pleasure to meet you."
She picks up the card on the table spinning it around her gloved index and middle fingers. "And it was a pleasure to meet you Mr Frosthearth, safe travels."
She slides the card into the empty holster and turns to Emma again.
"So, what's your occupation?"
[22:29:00 | Edited 22:29:52] Corey (Gheis): Just because I'm an admin doesn't mean I can't appreciate an attractive woman.