Target Practice - OPEN

[deia]

The bar was noisy, crowded, and stank of alcohol and humanity. Nearly everyone was drunk, or well on their way. A few spirited bouts of gambling were going on in one corner, and the pool table was in use in another. Most of the attention, however, was focused around the dartboard, situated on a post in the center of the room. A line of folk took their turns tossing three darts each, trying to beat the best score. If they lost, as most did, a cry of disappointment went up from the crowd around, and the disappointed challenger had to drop a few platinum in to the collection jar.

The next in line stepped up to the mark on the floor indicating the closest they were allowed to come. He took the first dart between two fingers, grinned and winked lecherously at one of the barmaids, and threw it. It landed neatly an inch to the right of the bullseye. He rubbed at his nose and picked up the second dart. This time it just brushed the circle in the center, but still wasn't quite in. He picked up the third dart.

As he pulled back his arm to throw, Jaclyn lifted her gun and took steady aim. She saw him move as if in slow motion, the dart leaving his hand, moving straight and true towards the center of the target. The gunshot echoed loud in the enclosed space, and several people screamed.

The man whirled to glare at her, shock etched in the lines of his face. "What in 'ell'd you do that fer! Nearly made me miss m'shot!" Jac grinned and motioned towards the wall behind him with her gun. The bullet had buried itself in the wood, and a few sad shreds of red feather peeked out from behind it, the tip of the dart on the floor underneath.

"Good thing I didn't miss mine then, eh?" A murmur ran through the crowd as she stood and sauntered to the bar. A bit of showing off never hurt, and more often that not helped. Well, so long as that lump of a man didn't get upset with her for shooting his dart clean out of the air. "'Ey!" she called to the barkeep. "Whiskey here, wouldja?"

Taking the shot he set before her and knocking back half of it, she sat on a stool and turned to watch as the dart game resumed. A few glances still turned her way, mostly astonished, a few calculating. It was the latter she was interested in. She knew quite well her talent was valuable, and could only hope someone else in this rundown place did as well.

[jops]

Trevor just checked the commpack's display. For someone who's been raised by a thief, he was being quite careless in taking out of the pocket such an expensive device. Especially in a pub like this, where anyone still half-sober, may have considered the idea of giving it a new owner.
But it was worth the risk. He finally got a wave from his cousin, the first he got since he left New Paris... and that was weeks ago.
The text on the screen was good news: Lilian made it safely to Santo and was telling him not to worry, that she was fine and even had a great breakfast for free.

Not to worry.... That's easier said than told, Trevor thought. Sure, the girl ain't no stupid kid and knows how to take care of herself, but she's still very young. Besides, how could one not worry knowing that she's on the dodge?
He let out a relieved sigh anyway and made himself more comfortable on the bar-stool he was sitting on. The notion that she's still alive and unharmed was sufficient to make him feel way better.

He quickly put away the commpack in one of the inner pockets and zipped the jacket up to discourage folks from trying to slip a hand there. Then he raised a hand in order to get the attention of the barkeep and....

BANG!

"Mei Yong Ma Duh Tse Gu Yong!" Trevor ducked instinctively, nearly tossing himself off the stool, only to realize that he wasn't directly in danger. At least for the moment.
He stood there, open mouthed, unable to believe the scene. His shock wasn't much about the fact that the lady just hit a flying dart. He actually missed that part. For what he could tell, she just shot the wall. And that was exactly what he couldn't comprehend: why would someone walk in a pub and shoot gorram the wall? What's wrong with some people?
As the woman walked to the bar, right next to him, his sense of self preservation suggested not to ask.

There was a quick and puzzled exchange of glances between him and the barkeep. "Yeah, serve the lady first!" Trev conceded, trying hard to keep a low profile and avoid eye contact with her, but he couldn't help to occasionally look in her direction to size her up.

[deia]

Jac tossed back the other half of her whiskey and motioned for a refill. For some reason, she felt like getting properly drunk that night. And maybe losing some money at the card tables, if she felt particularly adventurous. For now, though, she was content to watch yet another challenger attempt to hit the tiny bullseye - something that increasing amounts of alcohol consumption made particularly difficult. There was a shout as one of the darts missed the target entirely, but fortunately clattered harmlessly to the ground before doing any damage.

Her skin prickled oddly. Someone was watching her. She flicked her eyes over just in time to catch the man stealing a glance at her. It seemed like she'd attraction some attention after all. She favored him with a quick smile, although it was well on its way to being a smirk. "See something you like, mister?" she quipped. All in all, she was feeling more frisky than she had in a while. Maybe she'd start some real trouble, that would certainly be fun.

[jops]

"Rut!"
That was pretty much the first word to cross Trev's mind.
He learned to read people from his uncle, tho he never really became a master of this art. To him, most of the time, it was just a wild guess. However, this time it wasn't difficult to guess that the woman was up to no good.

"Er... no, not really!" He replied dismissively, only to realize that such an answer may be taken as an insult.
The attempt to fix that, did probably more harm than good: "Ahem... i mean, I'm not saying you're butt ugly or a joo ba jeh. Hell, no! That's definitely not the case... serious! I just... oh gorramit!"
He slaps his forehead and takes a second to put some order in his mind, before resuming the conversation: "Look, you just walked in and put a hole in the wall. That's something that normally would get some folks on the edge. Dontcha think? And I'm only reacting normally, here! That's it!"

[deia]

Taken aback, Jac arched an eyebrow at him curiously. His stuttering attempts to not insult her were amusing, but what bothered her was that he had apparently not even seen what she'd done. She drew her pistol out of its holster, careful to not make the gesture threatening, and twirled it casually around her finger. If there's one thing she couldn't stand, it was people not appreciating her skills.

"So I'm guessing you missed the fact that there was a dart flyin' through the air before I shot, and pinned to the wall by my bullet after?"

She rubbed at a nearly invisible smudge on the barrel of the gun in her hand with her sleeve. The whiskey was beginning to make itself known, a lovely numb feeling spreading from her chest to her head. Not enough to impede her aim, but enough to make her a bit more willing to shoot.

"If'n you doubt my story, pick a target, I'll hit it with my eyes closed."

[jops]

It took a moment for Trev to fully understand what she meant. He blinked as he mentally double checked her words. He came to the conclusion that she may have actually had hit a very difficult target, but was likely exaggerating the story a bit.
She surely showed confidence, Trevor noted, and that generally comes with skills.

"No need to prove anything. I take your story!" He stated. He probably just didn't want Jaclyn to shoot again, but he looked and sounded like someone who'd bet on her to hit, rather than miss.
In truth, the only real point she made to Trevor was that she's dangerous. How dangerous exactly... that was something that still needed to be determined.
However, Trev, had seen and heard enough to decide not to let his guard down. A task that one's more likely to accomplish by remaining sober.
He looked at the glass he just had been served and pushed it with a gentle touch of hand. The glass slid on the bar for the short distance that separated it from the two empty shots Jaclyn just had.

"Here! That's on me! To apologize for upsetting you before!" He smiled, friendly, and hoped that the gesture would get her to re-holster the gun.

[deia]

((OOC: Now that's funny... top of this page as it loaded was an advertisement for firearms training. XD))

Jac rolled her eyes eloquently and lifted the glass in a toast. "No apology necessary, but I accept it anyways." She did, indeed, re-holster her gun, although that would be little comfort to anyone who knew her, and the speed of her draw.

"So what brings you to this rowdy place? Pardon me for saying, but you don't seem like the type." Unlike herself, she refrained from adding. She was exactly the type to hang around in a noisy bar just waiting for the inevitable fight to break out. Or possibly causing it. Either way, with so many crammed in to a space with so much alcohol, something was liable to happen.

[jops]

"A friend of mine suggested this place! Said they serve excellent drinks!"
Trevor was most certainly not going to tell the real reason. Rule number 1 of when you're on the run is to never tell that you're on the run. Unless, of course, it's somebody you really trust. However, with the reference to a friend, he wanted to clearly give the idea that he's someone who has connections.

Certainly, he would have given a more convincing impression if he wasn't wearing clothes screaming to everyone: hey, i'm fresh from the Core!
That said, he does have a few connections for real... rather loose and not as good as he wanted to make it sound. Still better than nothing anyway.

"...and, apparently, there's plenty of work opportunities! Just need to be good at catching them!" He added a moment later, revealing some of his real motives.
In all honesty, he had no idea if that was true. He just repeated what he had been told when his friend suggested him to go here.

[radegrasan]

Rade walked into the noisy crowded bar. He had just come back from visiting his father and still had about 45 minutes to spare before Faye expected him back at the Riley. It had been a while since he had some alcohol in his system, seeing that all there was to drink on board the Riley was water. Rade figured it would be nice to pour something stronger down his throat for once.
Rade did a quick check of the surroundings to see if he saw someone he'd rather not see, but so far there was no one he knew. Only thing he noticed were the usual bar bums trying to score some platinum playing darts.
Rade walked over to the bar. The barkeeper was leaning over the bar, flirting with some floozy that looked like she overpainted her face to hide her uglyness.

"Yo barkeep! How about some service over here, huh?" Rade said. The barkeeper looked up and reluctantly walked over to Rade. He didn't seem too happy with Rade interupting his flirting with the floozy.
"Yeah yeah... what'll it be?" the barkeeper asked.
"How about a shot of vodka?" Rade replied.
The barkeeper opened a bottle of vodka and then took a small shotglass. He then poured the spirited liquid in the small glass until it almost ran over. He put the filled glass in front of Rade.
Rade grabbed the shotglass with vodka and drank it in one whole chug. The barkeeper kept standing across Rade, on the other side of the bar. Rade put the glass down.
"Keep'em coming." Rade said to the barkeeper.
"How about you show me some money first?" the barkeeper replied.
Rade grabbed a piece of platinum from the pocket of his brown leather pilot jacket and tossed it over the bar.
"Here's a five. Leave the bottle."
The barkeeper caught the piece of platinum, checked its authenticity and then left to go flirt with the floozy again. As Rade poured himself another drink, he heard a voice he had hoped never to hear again.

"Rade Grasan!" the voice yelled. "You have a lot of guts to show your face around here, boy!"
Rade turned around to find Buford, one of Ash Fenix' goons standing there. Buford was a big fat bald man, with a goatee that ran all the way down to his chest.
Rade did a job for Ash Fenix when he was still a privateer, before he got hired onboard the Riley. The job went south, and Ash Fenix claimed Rade owed him the money he lost, so he sent Buford after Rade. Rade shot Buford in the kneecaps when he came to claim Ash Fenix' money, and at this very moment Rade regretted not killing Buford back then.

"Hey Buford." Rade said. "How's the knee?"
Buford now became furious and limped towards Rade. Of course Rade had no intention to get beaten down by Buford and he immediately pulled his revolver and pulled the trigger.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

Rade's revolver was empty. Something that never happened before. Rade made sure his revolver was always loaded before going out and he had checked his revolver before leaving the Riley.
But then it suddenly hit him. He had taken off his holsters to help Brian move a heavy crate. Rade remembered the only one in there with them was... Nico. Rade realized he must've taken the bullets out of his gun while he was helping Brian carry the heavy crate.

"Oh Nico, you son of a goat!" Rade yelled, but then he got grabbed by Buford.

Buford picked up Rade and held him in front of his face.

"Not so tough without your gun, huh boy?" Buford said. Rade cringed as he smelled Buford's breath, which smelled like the waste disposal unit in the Riley. Buford laughed, he now finally had the man who shot out his kneecap in his grasp.
"Well boy? You've got anything to say before I break every bone in your body?" Buford asked.
Buford's breath was killing Rade, up to a point that he was about to vomit if Buford would just say one more thing.
"Could you just shut up and get on with it already???" Rade asked desperately. "Your breath is freakin' killing me!"
The remark on his breath infuriated the big gorilla Buford even more, and with all his might he threw Rade through the air.
Rade soared through the air just like the Riley when it went full throttle, in the direction of a table where a young woman and a Chinese waiter were having a conversation.

"Tzao gao!" Rade yelled right before coming down on the table

CRASH.

[OOC: I'm sorry if it's a bit long. I've just been really inspired lately ^.^ ]

[jops]

"Of course, the job opportunities are vastly outnumbered by the chances of ending up mauled by somebody!" Trevor comments the scene with a mix of sarcasm, irritation and a lot of discomfort.
He was actually scared like hell, but he learned from his uncle how to hide this to other people's eyes. And making stupid comments tained with sarcasm turned out to be a very effective way to help him let out some of the stress without losing his cool.

He quickly studied the place for an escape route. Heading straight to the door would leave him too exposed, especially if this was going to break into a full-scale brawl. He opted for holding is position for the moment, ready to jump behind the counter as soon as the situation was starting to degenerate.

[deia]

((Hoo boy, lots to catch up on, here goes...))

Jac leaned back against the bar, legs hooked under the crossbeam of the stool and sipped at her third shot of whiskey. This was good stuff, after all, and expensive, no use wasting it like she had the first two shots. "You know somebody, eh? Everyone knows somebody on this rock, that's what makes it so gorram hard to find work if'n you don't. Not that you'll have that problem." She leaned down and pulled the gun out of her boot holster, rubbing at the spot on her calf where it had chafed.

She quickly became very glad she'd ducked, as shards of broken glass flew over her head from the table where a young man had just been forcibly thrown. Judging from the shouting that had preceded it - noted, although not noticed, in the background - there was liable to be bloodshed if the boy didn't pick himself up quick enough. Maybe even if he did. That clicking sound had meant he was out of ammo, and the situation didn't appear to have been improved by him being tossed. As the other patrons of the bar either backed away, ran, or armed themselves, she shoved to her feet.

"Get under the bar," she snapped at Trevor. "Things may get ugly, he looks like he means business." She indicated the thug with a jerk of her chin. Her boot gun was still in her right hand, and was quickly joined by the one from the holster at the small of her back. Save the hip one for later - it was the smallest, anyways. She took one quick shot, right in front of Buford's face, close enough he'd feel the breeze. A shot across the bow, as it were. Then both guns were up, one pointed at Rade, the other at Buford's head.

"So it's a fight you want, is it? Well, c'mon then!"

[radegrasan]

The situation had become desperate for Rade, but he had gone through much worse. The good thing about this whole situation was that this lady also had a gun pointed at Buford, but Rade knew he couldn't go for his other guns as long as she had a gun pointed at him.
Rade looked to the side and saw his revolver laying on the floor a few feet away. He kept the bullets in his left coat pocket, and he knew he could reload his gun in less than ten seconds.
Rade pondered on what to do. Would she miss if he suddenly dove towards his gun? Or maybe she wouldn't do anything since she also had Buford to worry about.
Then, the solution presented itself as Rade saw another goon appear from behind the lady, ready to bust her skull in with a table leg.

"Ehm... you might wanna..." Rade said while pointing behind the lady.

Rade knew that as soon as she would turn around, he'd dive down towards his revolver, and take cover behind the piller a bit further.
His intentions: grab revolver, find cover, reload revolver, kill Buford, shoot lady.

[jops]

Yup! The girl's dangerous and a crazy trigger happy!
For Trevor that was a good enough reason to stay well away from her and anything she'd get involved into.
But she was also one to tell him to get behind cover. Not that he didn't think about it himself, and he actually already had a plan in mind to stick to... Anyway, he appreciated the thought.

One thing about Trev is that has compulsive need to return the courtesy. If you're nice to him, he'll do his best to be nice to you whenever he gets a chance. In this specific case, the chance was represented by the goon trying to sneak up on Jac.

He was just about to jump over the bar when he noticed him, so
Trevor hesitated for a second, trying to figure if providing assistance was actually worth giving up his escape plan.
Of course, it wasn't! There was really nothing to gain if not some serious beating.

Trevor rolled his eyes and sighed, wondering why the hell, after having even gone trough the process of considering the pros and the cons (and having established there are no pros), he was going to do this.
He quickly pulled out of a large pocket a little portable fire-extinguisher. Something that an unfortunate incident with an old engine taught him to keep always handy.
The label suggested to shake before use, but there wasn't really the time for it, so he went for a less-optimal shaking during use.
He still obtained the desired result anyway: the goon's face was covered in synthetic foam, designed to put down fire and not to be gentle on eyes.
Actually the label clearly stated NOT to spray in the eyes, and judging from the man's reaction, there's a good reason for that.

[deia]

While Rade was making his calculations, Jac was going through a few of her own. She knew she could shoot the both of them before they had a chance to blink. Unfortunately, there was now a third, as the boy on the floor so kindly pointed out - she could hear his shuffling footsteps enough to pinpoint his location. There was a cry as Trevor hit him in the eyes with the foam, but she still intended on taking him out in a more permanent manner. She took a quick glance over her shoulder, noticing that the world was beginning to move in slow motion around her. A side effect of the adrenaline kicking in.

"I suggest you get out of the way," she said to Trevor, voice calm, before moving.

She twisted her arm behind her and fired, and the man still clutching at his eyes jerked backwards, a neat hole in his chest and a quickly spreading bloodstain on his shirt. As he fell, she fired at Buford with the gun in her other hand, catching him in the shoulder - she didn't intend to kill him, just hurt him enough that he wouldn't move - not that she'd cry if he did die. In the space of a few seconds, a mere breath, two men were on the ground and she stood with both guns pointing at Rade. She didn't know it, but her lips were drawn back in a fierce grin, almost a grimace.

"Don't. Even. Think about it."

[radegrasan]

"Aww nuts!" Rade thought in himself. The lady was quick, quicker than him. Even though she now had two guns pointed at him, Rade actually started to admire her. And from what he could see, even though he saw her upside down, she was quite the looker as well.
Rade stayed calm, somewhere he had the feeling she wasn't going to shoot him as fast as she shot Buford. He wasn't going to beg her or trying to reason with her though, that just wasn't him. But he did put a big smile on his face as he started talking to the lady.

"I don't suppose warning you about that goon behind you scored me some points?" Rade asked.
The lady didn't say anything, and kept her guns pointed at him.
"Yeah, thought so...." Rade said.

It was then in the blink of an eye that Rade grabbed the lady's ankles, and pulled her from under her feet. As she was busy falling Rade got up, dove towards his revolver and slided behind the pillar. He reached for his pocket full of bullets and reloaded his gun. He then reached for the pistol on his left hip with his left hand.

The bar was in a total state of chaos, people that didn't want to fight got out, and those that did stayed behind. Everything pointed in the direction of a full bar brawl.
Rade knew Buford probably didn't come to the bar by his lonesome, but at the moment he couldn't distinguish the other goons yet from the regular crowd. He decided to stay focused on his new lady friend for just a while longer.

"Girl, you chose the wrong guy to point a gun at!" Rade yelled from behind the pillar. Rade waited for a response, knowing he wasn't going to hurt her unless she decided to get really stupid.