Just What The Note Said

[Sam Grady]

^{and if i wanted to die before i got old
i should've started some years ago diggin' that hole}

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Some might wonder where a woman like Sam Grady would end up if left alone to her own devices. Or maybe no one does-- and that's probably the case, but that would defeat the object of her current return, wouldn't it? The ex-pirate turned gypsy pilot had once again fallen her wiry self through the cracks in the 'Verse. Her time on Dyton had been brief, boring and filled with terrible booze. The very best kind. Fights had broken out, and not all caused by her. Thefts had happened... Oh yeah. That's where this story had stopped for a while. Grady's desire and almost all around need to fly had ended with her deciding some hair-brained scheme to steal a ship. Even managed to rope a few other stranded folk in with her. That plan? Sam's plan? Sam has plans? Well, yes. She does. They're usually the kind that no one else wants any part in and generally end badly for everyone involved. Or she barely scrapes out of it alive. This time she'd tried to steal from the wrong kind of folks. They were either bandits or slavers or something else wholly unsavoury. Maybe even pirates, if Sam had taken the time to look closely. As it stood, she'd snuck her way onboard whilst the majority of them were drunk in a bar. The few that remained were easy enough to knock out. Not killed, oddly enough. She'd kick herself if she admitted maybe time with Syeira's crew had softened her if but a touch. Other than that, anyone accusing can go hump themselves. As soon as hands had wrapped around the steering yoke and that familiar thrill had washed over her, a gun had pressed to the back of her head.

Now, the man wasn't a fool of a Captain. He was actually a little impressed. Might have been a job in it for her if it weren't for the obvious fact she'd tried to steal the man's ship. That would be where she ended up. Thrown into a dirty little prison somewhere on some backwater moon. Not a real, by-the-law deal. Just somewhere quiet and jail-like where she'd been tied to a chair, beaten and then left to rot for a spell. They'd felt it not prudent to kill her outright. Might as well make her learn a lesson in the process, right? Once her 'sentence' had ended, the Captain came back to offer her a job.

You can imagine, despite Sam's love for flying, what exactly she'd told him to do with this glorious little offer. So here she was. On Persephone. In this pub. The pub where a lot of hopeful travellers ended up under one profession or another. Not really with any hope of something as good as the Veasna but something, you know? The note had been put up, and Sam was dolled up in her usual finery with her trusty little revolver tucked into the snap holster at her hip. Boots were rested on the cross supports of the stool she was on, hands flat on the bartop. She'd just taken a hit of something when a grisled man and some ornery-looking woman wandered in. They were followed by two more. The woman called out over the din of the bar as she scanned it. "Grady?"

Immediately, one of Sam's hands lifted up with little grace and bold obviousness in her manner. It waved over her head as she called out a yo! to indicate where she was. Probably the stupidest thing, right? Announce yourself loudly to strangers that looked less than friendly. Best plan Sam had ever had, The woman indicated her mutt-faced chum to make his way over to her. The rest of them fanning out amongst the patrons. Sam was still looking at her glass, hands back on the counter as the other dropped with a slap against the surface.

"You got some nerve comin' 'round here after that there stunt ya pulled 'fore ya left. Think we'd ferget?"

Oh. That. The revelation didn't really reach Sam's slightly addled mind for a while. Probably not until after what happened next. Instead, she simply touched the rather intricately carved bullet around her neck, and then slapped her hand over the one that had just landed heavily on her shoulder. A small blade dug right on into the flesh as the man yowled, giving Sam the opportunity to turn and strike. A punch to the face and a kick to the family jewels had him doubled over and on the floor. Grady hopped over her stool, reached back to grab it and whacked the next one to rush her clean across the face. She was grinning like a smug fool as she locked eyes with the ornery woman. Had to be something to do with her. And then it hit her.

"Carmel, darlin'! How the rut are ya?" Sam's arms went wide as if she were expecting to be embraced warmly like a friend. Instead, Carmel sneered and pulled her gun. That was about time the bartender and several others pulled theirs. A sign that clearly indicated 'NO SHOOTING' was pointed out to the swarthy woman. Immediately, she grunted and re-holstered it. Opting to lunge for Grady instead. The other guns disappeared as if from no where.

Barfight!

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[Fire (Hawk) Owlson]

Fire had once again entered his favourite bar and was enjoying a gin and tonic. From the corner of his eyes he had seen some strange figures walking into the bar and they weren't exactly looking for a nice chat. When they walked up to a girl, sitting several feet away from him, he had focused his attention more, ready to intervene when needed. But he soon saw it wasn't necesary. The girl nocked out the man, impressively. But the girl had made the fatal step, she wasn't paying attention to the woman and now her gun was pointing at her
own head.

"I wouldn't do that", Fire shouted as he pulled his own gun together with the rest of the bar.

Luckily the woman listened and she holstered her gun. As Fire put his own gun back, thinking it was over the other girl suddenly threw a revenge punch at the woman. He had to admit it was a good one. But he also knew what would come after. Not even a second later someone threw his glass at the wall behind the bar and shouted: "Barfight!!"
At first Fire tried to ignore it, but who was he kidding. As a man ran towards him from behind he turned around quickly and caught him with his fist. The man was knock out in one punch. Fire smiled it felt good to hit a man.

"Anyone-else", he shouted provocative. Another man came running towards him, this time with a chair above his head, ready to hit Fire. Fire dodged and gave the man a punch in his stomach, as he collapsed Fire gave him another hit on his back. On his right he saw a group of men fighting each other and with a grin he took his chance and took part. He took a couple of hits on his left arm, but suceeded to give another man a black eye aswell. Suddenly he felt a figure bumping into his back and he turned around. He prepared to give the person a black eye aswell, but luckily saw it was the girl in time. He smiled.

"You're quite a good fighter, you know", Fire said. He got another hit on his shoulder and found a chance to knock the man out with his other hand.

[Sam Grady]

It never did take long for a bar to erupt into chaos at that one loud announcement of a fight. Folks in places like this almost dreamed of it through a surly, drunken haze and most had already passed out before starting it. O'Hanrahan's was a popular joint, but the owners did try to maintain some form of order and less broken tables. There may be blood stains on the floor and a tooth or three. That just added character, though. Grady? Apparently she'd been part of what had started this one, and just before the chaos had ensued, Carmel had taken that lunge. A tackle that sent both women to the ground. Forearms came up to bar the fists that reigned down upon her, and Sam smirked with some satisfaction as one of Carmel's knuckles dinged harshly against that metal limb. Hand might not be broken-- sadly-- but it was enough to cause a grunt and a pause. Perfect opportunity!

By now, the whole place was up in arms and throwing them at each other. Sam threw that balled, hinged series of metal fingers at Carmel's cheek twice. One, two. The second hit a little harder than the first. Harsh, spidery metal colliding with flesh and causing the skin to even break a little bit. The abuse of her arm caused it to lock up for a moment-- cheap piece of-- but she'd given herself more than enough room to roll the angry woman off. Sam kicked out, making sure to scramble back to her feet amongst the crowd. Immediately, one of Carmel's men snagged her waist, lifted the short woman up. Legs kicked out as she struggled. One guy-- patron?-- catching it in the jaw, and Carmel was unlucky enough to get the second one in the throat. Sam threw that thick skull of her's back as hard as she could, dazing both herself and smacking the man's nose. He eventually dropped her, the woman staggered and blinked to clear the spots from her vision. She'd twist and back up, fists raised.

Her back touched and bumped into someone else-- immediately causing the pilot to spin around, noting the stranger wasn't aiming a punch at her. The balled fist lowered as she shook her head, regained her composure. A grin split across her face at his words.

"Experience an' plenty practice at holdin' booze." Plus the fake metal arm doesn't hurt matters too much, right? The limb in question-- covered in that elbow-long leather glove-- was still locked up into a fist, the parts in it whirring as the fingers remained stiff and unable to flex. Good thing it was only half her arm or the whole thing would be useless. Right now it was good to still sling at people. Which she did, right into the guy she'd head-butted moments ago, and right into his already bruising nose to break it.

"Fact you're still standin' an' havin' a blast must say the same fer you." Sam noted, although usually assumed terribly unobservant. But she had seen how easily he'd shrugged off his attacker.

[Fire (Hawk) Owlson]

"I can see that", Fire said smiling. He ducked for another incoming fist, meant for another person. "Well I could say I have had some practise aswell", Fire said with a small grin.

He suddenly felt someone bumping into him again. "Hey watch that!", he shouted as he turned around, he pushed the man back from where he came, but this only made him more angry. The man launched himself back at Fire, with as much force as Fire had pushed him away from him. Before he could do something a fist was planted in his face.

"You gorram ruttin' Hwoon dahn", Fire said as he caught the blood flowing from his nose. He looked up mad. No-one would ever hurt him like that unpunished.

He jumped on the man and started punching about on his face aswell. He gave him a couple of kicks in his knees and got him down. But the man pulled Fire with him and they were now both rolling on the floor, like in a mud fight. The only difference being, this fight wasn't very gentle and Fire was getting more and more angry. The man gave him some more punches in Fire's face and succeeded to almost relocate Fires left arm. Fire pulled his gun and put it against the man's head, who immediatly stopped.
"I said Git!", he shouted and he cocked his gun.

[Sam Grady]

Funny how something as uncivilised and hostile as a brawl could bring folks together for polite conversation. It really warmed the heart. Apart from the fact they were mostly smashing each other in the face. Friendly, heated exchanges of fists were almost what passed for the local gathering's past time. A family activity, you could say. Well, okay, not that far. Sam was enjoying herself, though. Despite the impending doom of Carmel and her men somewhere mixed up in all of this, and the depressing lack of a ship to fly at the end of this adrenaline rush. Still, you find pleasure in the little things, right? And whether that was the crunch of someone's hand underfoot, or the sound of them choking as you level your elbow with their throat. Grady was doing all this right now. Once her and the friendly brawler comrade had broken away from each other, Sam was back in the welcome embrace of Carmel's men.

A wiry opponent, was Sam. But of course, that was obvious from her build and height. Muscle was seen, but there was a lean, lithe frame that relied on being somewhat faster. Although her weight wasn't exactly as light as others of her build. The arm added some extra, and not to mention the gear she usually carried. Granted, she was without the sawn-off. That was more of an on-the-job or ship-defence weapon anyway. Sent the right message. Was effective...

The weight of something hit Grady hard in the back, and dropped her straight flat to the floor. Carmel spit on her and let the remaining pieces of the chair fall from her hands. Dazed, and thoroughly annoyed, the short pilot let the stars clear from her vision before she was dragged up to her feet by the collar of her brown military shirt. But her jaw had clenched unseen, the arm at her side carefully unfurling spidery digits. When she was spun around by the shoulder, Grady backhanded Carmel across the face, following it up by pinning her down to the nearest table. That metal hand was around her throat.

"Now I was enjoyin' this. An' you had to go make it personal, di'n't ya?" The pilot glowered, almost unknowing to the fuss people were about to kick up again from seeing a drawn gun. Carmel just glared back at her, the swarthy-skinned woman hoping to send her five-feet-under just from a look alone. Sam's wasn't as intense, but it was the lack of a strong expression that was kind of worrying. She tightened her grip a moment, watched the other woman choke for a second before she tore away.

She stalked away from the table with an even step, coming up passed Fire and his gun. A small, testing tap was given to his shoulder. Almost like a friendly, glancing warning. "Ain' worth the trouble it'll bring down on ya, pal."

Believe me. I know that one. The afterthought had her rubbing the back of her neck. She was going to hurt tomorrow. Or pretty soon. Probably already bruising. She threw a few looks around, noticing how the fight had slowly died down. A few drunks were just leaned into one another, too far gone in their drinking to throw straight punches anymore. Carmel's men were dusting themselves off. She was rubbing her throat. "Outside. Now."

The motion was made, and they followed suit. Sam just stared after them a moment. Kind of obvious what they were planning. Depending on what Fire did with his man next, Sam had turned back around to offer him a drink on her. To calm down, of course.

[Fire (Hawk) Owlson]

The rage was reaching it’s peak now. Fire had turned into a killing machine again. He smiled at the man, teasing him. “No-ne… ever… does this to me, without being punished for it”, Fire said pointing at his face with his gun. He got a better grasp of the man and put his gun against the mans head. “You made me very angry”, he said putting more force on the gun. “And people who know me know you shouldn’t make me angry”. Fire licked his lips. “You probably don’t do ya?”. The man didn’t answer. “DO YA?”, Fire shouted.

“No”, said the man calm. “Should I?”. He spit on Fires face. Fire snorted grinning.

“I wouldn’t try and test me, if I were you”, Fire said calm. “I could kill you here, right now”.

The man laughed in Fire’s face. “I know you wouldn’t”, he said provocative.

Fire bit his lip. “You asked for it”. He pushed the gun against the mans head and wanted to pull the trigger. Suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder and someone whispered in his ear. He looked up and suddenly saw every man in the bar pointing a gun at him. He sighed. “I will get you”, he said as he turned his gun around and hit the man hard on his forehead. Knock Out.

He got up and holstered his gun and every man in the bar followed his example. Fire gave the man on the ground another kick on his side and turned around. The girl was sitting at the bar and offering him a drink.
“Thank you”, he said walking up to her. "for ehmm bringing me back to reality”. He sat down next to her. “A drink would be very nice”. He gave her a little smile. A drink would indeed be very nice right now, as his head was spinning around and punding like it was going to explode.

[Sam Grady]

It was hardly ever that Sam Grady disrupted or ended fights in the most diplomatic of manners. A small nagging twitch in the back of her mind that maybe days with better classes of folk had rubbed off on her. That she was no longer the bloodthirsty pir-- well, that was debatable. Maybe she was just a little smart-- Well, who the gui knew what made her do things these days. Safe to say, Sam had helped a guy not give into the undeniable urge to paint the already blood-stained floors with the contents of some fool's brainpan. Although that would've been more amusing. It was probable she just didn't want to see a nice place like this that served her decent drinks get destroyed with a gunfight. Save that sort of thing for those far-rim busted bars, right?

"No worries. We all been there. And hell, if it ain't fun." A lop-sided grin was adopted, and then a hand was passed out to her side from where she sat, luckily the flesh one. "Name's Grady. What you drinkin'?"

Nothing like the pasttime of booze to bring people back down to their friendly selves. All the guns were gone like they'd never even been there and Sam was all relaxed and lazy again. The rush was gone and she was back to feeling that pang of strange longing to be in the Black. The alcohol would soon dull that again. Her bottle from earlier had been broken over someone's head-- oh well-- and another one was already set before her.

There was a small wonder as to how long Carmel and her men would lurk around outside somewhere, lying in wait for her. That thought was quickly discarded for later. She didn't care. She'd fight her way out, that was fine. It wouldn't be first and certainly not the last.

A glance was shot her new friend's way, a side-long look as she gulped from her bottle. His order would no doubt have been filled by now. So she raised her's towards him, neck tilted out for that little knock of glass on glass.

"To senseless violence." Cue her wide, inappropriate grin.

[Sam Grady]

[ OOC: bump! ;D ]

[Fire (Hawk) Owlson]

[I apologize for my very, very late reply ]

Fire whiped some of the spit from the man of his face. He smiled a little. “Fire Owlson, but most people call me Hawk. Nice to meet you”. He cringed as he felt another twinge going through his head. “At this moment any kind of alcohol is good, as long as it is strong”. Fire got his glass and toasted with Sam. “To senseless violence”, he smiled, there was something about this girl he liked. He drank his glass in one gulp and finally relaxed a bit, well for his standards of course, and ordered another glass.
He looked at Sam. “Who were those guys you were fighting with. You seemed to know them”. He took a sip from the new glass and waited patiently for Sams answer.