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[Dwarmin]

He pulls out a 1lv note, and throws it onto the table. "Let's up the ante. That says that you can't a ball after the cue ball rebounds off two other balls first."

"I'll wager that I can." She says, with an air of total resolve, perhaps belying her actual skill in pool. This is actually a physical reaction someone who gets to know her will soon learn to recognize-the unblinking, concentrated stare, the paling of her skin, the tightening of her slender shoulders and neck, her facial features set in stone. It's hard to understand unless you've been in a war-it's the same sort of face a soldier gets right before they charge an enemy soldier with their bayonet. Do or die.

It was, in many parts, this absurd level of self confidence that had already gotten her to the trouble she has had in life. Many others would have died in her place, but she had gone on, gritting her teeth-step after bloody step, not ever thinking about stopping or going back. Katrine rarely allows for a moment of doubt or indecision to slow her aim or her actions, and while this allows her to succeed where many others would fail, it also makes it harder for to question the why of a thing. Failure brings self chastisement, but not total wisdom. She always believes the sole cause of her failures is herself, not the fact that some things are unwise or impossible to attempt in the first place.

This is, poetically, her mortal flaw-her one grand weakness, the dire imperfection she was built with, that will one day statistically be the cause of her death. One day, a gap will appear before her that she cannot hesitate to leap, and that gap will be her lonely grave.

But, for now, all her concentration is on the shot she must make.

Action: Attempt crazy trick shot to presumably win the game!

((OOC: And with the hopefully epic sounding denouement, I'm out. Literally, from the forums, for maybe for 3 days. Holidays!

I'll hand things off to you My Name is Immaterial, just have Katrine follow whatever you have planned, you have my permission to move her about and such as plot dictates. If you need motivation, she'll back you up as a partner in whatever you decide.))

[Cain12]

The big beast of a woman with the messed up face looked up from her rum at being talked up.
For a moment, she was surprised, before she shrugged languidly.
"...Sure. If you're tryin' to  trick me for something, though, I'll beat you until you piss blood. Fair warning."
Her french was coarse, with a heavy german accent, slurred slightly by her facial damage.

Charming as she looks. Forcing a chuckle Brain sets down his backpack and spoke in a jovial tone:
"..Ha ha, warning received." If he were younger (or had more drink in him) and she less physically built he'd might have joked about rearranging her face, and how it'd be a favor.

She angled her head slightly as one of the pool players waved at them, but otherwise didn't move for now.
"Olga. You?"

Brian waves back, guess his eyes work fine then, or we were less than discreet. Either way, on their radar.
"Pretty name, Brian. Will be upfront, to limit the blood in my piss, I might have work, but I need some extra hands if I want the gig. I have tonight and tomorrow to find them."

[My Name is Immaterial]

-snip-

Alban's heart stopped for a moment. This wasn't the first time he'd seen that look on someone's face. He'd seen it on men who never got to hold their kids again, women forgotten by the rest of the world. He did not like that look. When someone had that look, people tended to get hurt or killed.
His own face froze, and he gripped his pool cue tightly as a reflex.

[GiglameshDespair]

Olga finished her rum before slamming the glass down.
"Wha's the gig?"

[Cain12]

Olga finished her rum before slamming the glass down.
"Wha's the gig?"

Brian tried and failed to not frown at the question. Was a good question. He very much wished he had thought of a convincing answer before he brought it up. Making something up wouldn't end well if he was too off mark, so he settled for a variation on the truth, one he felt was less likely to get that glass smashed over his head.

"Refill? On me?" That said, no harm in another incentive.

"Anyway, I don't have the exact details, my guy is being secretive about it. Seems to be some merc gig based on what I have, possibly security or transport, maybe off world. Though, whatever it is, I have reason to believe that it is something big, cause the guy was also being real smug about it, and spending like he had money to waste. I learn the rest when I meet with him tomorrow."

[Dwarmin]

Spoiler: No more waiting around! (click to show/hide)

Task: Tricky Pool Shot
Task Type: Unskilled
DC: Difficult (10+)
Die Mod: Dexterity 10/4=2.5=2
Time: Instant

1d10=(9), +2=11 vs DC10 (Pass!)

Katrine goes for precision over the power-the white is gently curved in a perfect arc, first hitting one ball (blue 2), then another (Orange 5)....

*Clink...clink...*

The first ball (blue) is still in motion, while the second (Orange) comes to a rest at the very lip of the far pocket-the first ball gently nudges yet a third ball with the last of it's momentum (purple 4), and propels it away in a graceful spinning motion, wobbling sideways across the felt (or futuristic felt equivalent).

For a moment, there is utter stillness, and all eyes interested drawn to the game.

*...chink, ka-chunk!*

Then, it goes in.

"Well, I bel..."

*...chink, ka-chunk!*

The other one (orange) falls in (Perhaps no more than due to a rumbling truck driving by outside, or random geologic phenomena), before she finishes her sentence, and judging by her face, it's as much a surprise to her as anyone.

"Ah. Totally planned that..." She says to Alban, with a rare glowing smile.

"So, you'll be careful, betting against me." She says to him, mildly enough-not a question, a statement of fact.

A few deep breaths seem to calm both her previous inner fury in the next moments, and quiet her look of resolve...it's not exactly faded, and never will...but, for now, they seem to have gone back to sleep.

[My Name is Immaterial]

Alban's brow creases for a moment with a frown, before switching to a smile. Tossing 11 lv to Hall, he exclaims "That was worth 1lv just to see that shot! Bartender! Get my friend a drink, on me! Anything she wants!" and congenially slaps Hall on the back like an old friend.

[Dwarmin]

"Get me and my new friend a Nectarine Stairway."

The bartender seemed happy to be asked to make something that didn't come out of a can.

....

Kathrine eyed her drink as the stacked layers of orange-y liquid, drifted up and down in the tall glass. Admittedly, the taste was a bit sweet. She turns to Alban.

"So, now we're good friends.

Are you still wondering what my angle is?" She said, with a crooked grin.

[GiglameshDespair]

"Refill? Yeah, sure."
That done, Olga was unimpressed with the job offer.
"Hurmph. Vage. What sort of payout, how long, how hard a fight likely to meet? If you ain' knowig all that, not much of a job offer."
The two pool players seemed to be done, but ahe'd been in fights over this before. Pirates get particular about it.
"Oi. You two done with th' pool table?"

[Dwarmin]

The two pool players seemed to be done, but ahe'd been in fights over this before. Pirates get particular about it.
"Oi. You two done with th' pool table?"

Katrine nods with little interest as she and Alban amble towards the bar, her full attention not on the woman.

"It's all yours."

[My Name is Immaterial]

"Get me and my new friend a Nectarine Stairway."

The bartender seemed happy to be asked to make something that didn't come out of a can.

Alban eyed the fruity girl drink, and pounded it, hoping that no one saw him drinking such an effeminate drink. He had to stop about halfway through, as the citrus hit the back of his throat. He does his best to hide his coughing fit, looking embarrassed all the while, and resigns himself to just sipping it.

"So, now we're good friends.
Are you still wondering what my angle is?" She said, with a crooked grin.

"I can't say that I ever stopped wondering; I barely know your name. You a cop, or something? If that's it, I'm mostly just surprised that you got within ten meters of me, or even asked me about the eyes. Most cops, merde, most people get jumpy around me back home." His brow wrinkles in thought. 'Frankly, I'm surprised that it's not worse out here, in the bled. And, before you ask, no, I don't have x-ray vision, or laser vision."

[Cain12]

Brian set down the money for the lady's drink, glad it was cheap. All good questions, none he was able to satisfactorily answer.

"You're right, is not much, but sometimes that is all we get in this line of work. If you haven't anything better, you can come with me tomorrow and we can get those details. Even if you walk afterwards, I'd remember you if something more solid came up later."

[Dwarmin]

I can't say that I ever stopped wondering; I barely know your name. You a cop, or something? If that's it, I'm mostly just surprised that you got within ten meters of me, or even asked me about the eyes. Most cops, merde, most people get jumpy around me back home." His brow wrinkles in thought. 'Frankly, I'm surprised that it's not worse out here, in the bled. And, before you ask, no, I don't have x-ray vision, or laser vision."

"I was a cop...as for jumpy, I've seen scarier. You struck me as a man who knew how to handle himself. I was half a breath from taking a swing at you, just because you seemed like you'd give me a good fight. Glad things worked out the other way around." She said, tapping her glass against his. Katrine seems to favor drinking a nectarine stairway in the fashion of a shot-quickly downing one 'stairwell' of the drink, in a single swallow at a time. She chuckled as Alban tried to down the whole thing at once...the alcohol got progressively stronger as you got to the bottom of the glass.

"...They call that falling down the stairs for a reason." She said, patting him on the back chummily, as he coughed.

...

"And for the eyes, I figured it wasn't wise to ask. A man who'd get a new set of lookers, without going to the cost of making them look real, or doing a bit of reconstruction to go along with it? Well, he might not have gotten them entirely by choice. Just a guess.

And, you'd be surprised what we consider odd out here. The stuff you get from the Pentapods make everything seem normal..." She commented idly.

...

"Anyway. To the point at hand.

I noticed earlier, that you looked the same as I did. Bored, restless, like you were waiting for something to happen. Like me. I just then figured that if we sat in this bar waiting for something to happen, we'd end up as old as that guy who just left right now, before anything did." She said.

"I admit, I don't have much of a plan. All I know is that it starts with a partner. Someone I can work with, someone to watch my back, and vice versa. I'm not used to working alone. It gets me...well, stuck on a dirtball dipshit little bar in the middle of nowhere, looking to start a fight with everybody, drinking to oblivion. That doesn't get me anywhere I want to go...I stick around here, I'll get killed in a barfight, or drink myself to death...or, I could work local security, sure...end up marrying a farmer, why not? ...not entirely a bad idea, considering the usual choices I've made in my life, but it'd be boring. I could take boring, but it's not my first choice. I sort of feel I have a debt to pay before I settle down...or maybe I feel I'm not worthy to. Truth eludes us.

So, I figured, that we might work together. Maybe you have a better plan than I do-barfights, drinking, and uh, you know-and, you might not mind me coming along. Or maybe neither of us know what to do, and we'll just be two strangers staggering together through the universe looking for trouble and righting wrongs, like in one of those hokey old scifi stories I like to read. The true space adventures of Couloir and Écosse!

So, what do you think about all that?"

[My Name is Immaterial]

"I was a cop...as for jumpy, I've seen scarier. You struck me as a man who knew how to handle himself. I was half a breath from taking a swing at you, just because you seemed like you'd give me a good fight. Glad things worked out the other way around." She said, tapping her glass against his. Katrine seems to favor drinking a nectarine stairway in the fashion of a shot-quickly downing one 'stairwell' of the drink, in a single swallow at a time.

"I'll drink to that!" This time, he followed Hall's example, 'walking' down the 'stairs'. A much more pleasant experience, once he got over his ego, that is. A bit sweet for his taste, but hell, it was cold, unlike that beer he had got.

She chuckled as Alban tried to down the whole thing at once...the alcohol got progressively stronger as you got to the bottom of the glass.

"...They call that falling down the stairs for a reason." She said, patting him on the back chummily, as he coughed.

"Merde, it feels like it, too."

"And for the eyes, I figured it wasn't wise to ask. A man who'd get a new set of lookers, without going to the cost of making them look real, or doing a bit of reconstruction to go along with it? Well, he might not have gotten them entirely by choice. Just a guess. And, you'd be surprised what we consider odd out here. The stuff you get from the Pentapods make everything seem normal..." She commented idly.

"That's a good guess. It's not right, but it's a good guess. The armed forces have a great benefits package." He falls a little stoney faced, as if he had just settled a topic, yet not settling anything.

"Anyway. To the point at hand.
I noticed earlier, that you looked the same as I did. Bored, restless, like you were waiting for something to happen. Like me. I just then figured that if we sat in this bar waiting for something to happen, we'd end up as old as that guy who just left right now, before anything did." She said.

"I admit, I don't have much of a plan. All I know is that it starts with a partner. Someone I can work with, someone to watch my back, and vice versa. I'm not used to working alone. It gets me...well, stuck on a dirtball dipshit little bar in the middle of nowhere, looking to start a fight with everybody, drinking to oblivion. That doesn't get me anywhere I want to go...I stick around here, I'll get killed in a barfight, or drink myself to death...or, I could work local security, sure...end up marrying a farmer, why not? ...not entirely a bad idea, considering the usual choices I've made in my life, but it'd be boring. I could take boring, but it's not my first choice. I sort of feel I have a debt to pay before I settle down...or maybe I feel I'm not worthy to. Truth eludes us.

So, I figured, that we might work together. Maybe you have a better plan than I do-barfights, drinking, and uh, you know-and, you might not mind me coming along. Or maybe neither of us know what to do, and we'll just be two strangers staggering together through the universe looking for trouble and righting wrongs, like in one of those hokey old scifi stories I like to read. The true space adventures of Couloir and Écosse!

So, what do you think about all that?"

Alban nods while Hall makes her proposition, but he seems to drift off, lost in thought. At the end, he puts his glass down, finished, and taps his fingers on the glass a few times before responding. "You know, I came out here, looking for boredom, or at least something a little slower than what things had gotten. I sure as merde found it. Turns out I hate it." He pauses for a moment, and scans the drink menu distractedly. "I didn't have much of a plan; drive around the planet, see some sights, hop on a ship to another colony, rinse and repeat. Improvising on that with you sounds like a great time to me, Madame Hall. Let's drink to ou partnership! Barkeep, another drink for me and my friend; a proper ale, something local and strong!"

[Aseaheru]

 The bartender silently pulls out two dusty brown bottles, both unlabeled, from below the counter, plonking one infront of each of you. He seems less interested in you two than something apparently on the other side of the bar.