Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20191014001948/@comment-25828117-20191022183603

The sound of the ceiling fan was almost not worth what little cooling it provided. Pre-war stuff was almost always like this. You wondered why the folks back then even bothered.

Still, most patrons of the Beloperone Cantina "pride of the tri-county borders"  were far too busy being miserable by themselves, that they hardly noticed the fan that made a noise like strangling a cat under water. About 78% of the clientele would know what that sounded like by the way.

There were ten people present. Nine, minus the bartender/proprietor: Dumb Blind Dave, who was neither dumb nor blind. He was deaf though.

Three caravaners, all of them with two bodyguards. The three collectives of unhappy travelers had taken up one corner of the cantina each, remaining huddled together as they quietly ate, drank and above all tried their best to ignore the other two.

As anyone who could count to four could tell you. That left one corner of the Beloperone Cantina "pride of the tri-county borders" unoccupied.

But not for long...

The batwing doors creaked as a newcomer entered. The sound mixed in perfectly with the dying ceiling fan. For a second it was actually a bit pleasant, solely because of the novelty that both terrible noises appeared to be so perfectly in sync.

Angry, beaten up and ugly heads turned with about just as much grace as you'd expect to see who it was.

A cowboy sauntered in, cool and collected as one would expect a gunslinger to be.

If he had spurs (which nobody did because horses didn't exist anymore) they would jingle, and most definitely jangle while he made his way over to the bar where Dumb Blind Dave was just inspecting the hygiene of one of his shot glasses.

The cowboy popped a leg on the low brass bar by the counter and leaned forward in a slouch.

Dumb Blind Dave said something that sounded like: "Iouaiah" and pointed at the sign above the bar wall which read: "I'm deaf"

He then pointed at the codex next to it which revealed the hand signs correlating every drink available.

The cowboy smirked and held two hands up which he proceeded to pump up and down.

"Milk please." Willy said in as close an approximation of Josey's accent as he could.

to be continued...