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9/23/2015 10:52:55 PM
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[spoiler]FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT [/spoiler]
He catches the punch and twists Sawyer's arm until he feels a pop.
English
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Despite him having a dislodged arm, Sawyer still drags his shotgun Matilda from its holster on his right butt pocket and puts it against Tommy's ribcage, while kneeing Tommy in the testicles.
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He bends over, holding his testicles. As you start to pull away, he pulls a 45 from his waistband. "Listen, we're both obviously great fighters. Why kill each other?" The 45 is practically in your face.
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"Fair enough." Sawyer puts his gun back, and starts making small talk. "So what's your deal?"
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"What do you mean, what's my deal? You're the one that tried to slug me." He lets his arm hang at his side, still holding the 45.
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[spoiler]Name: Aaron Sawyer Age: 31 Gender: Male Race: Human Faction(optional): Rogue/none Abilities: Insane luck and an expert in the One-Inch Punch as well as great with shotguns Appearance: Black, wavy hair, Caucasian with icy blue eyes and a deep scar going from his eye to his chin. A rough yet handsome face seemingly always covered in gunpowder and grease. Sawyer is well-built and tall. Backstory/bio: An orphan since birth, Sawyer has had amnesia since he was 6, where he woke up on the train-tracks in New Austria, seemingly unaware of his past life. He raises himself by himself, clinging on to the edges of life. Later he discovers the Night had brainwashed him and killed his family. He's had a vendetta against them ever since. Personality: Delicate yet Brutal. Loving yet cold. Sawyer is truly a wildcard. One second he could be befriending his enemies and one second he could be bashing their skulls in with is shotgun. No one as liked him due to his unpredictability, but that spontaneous mess makes him an even greater foe. Job: Night Killer / Mercenary[/spoiler] "I mean, where are you from? Why are you here? Sorry about the misinterpretation."
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He nods. "It's alright. I'm Thomas, Thomas Weiss." He extends his arm without the pistol. [spoiler] https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1253422/155234789/0/0/1 [/spoiler]
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Sawyer shakes Tom's hand. "I've always liked gang filibusters. Grit n' shit, and all that deal. Wanna go to the pub? Whiskeys are on me."
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"Sure." He stuffs the pistol into his waistband.
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Sawyer and Tom walk towards the pub which grows on the horizon, and Sawyer breaks the moment of peace by saying, "Hey, there's a Night general stationed in UN city. Wanna do a run in a few days?"
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"Night General? I gladly will." He hesitates for a moment "You're not, one of those guys that hates all Night, are you?"
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Edited by Veration: 9/24/2015 1:47:05 AM"Well, considering Night r[i]a[/i]ped, ate and wore the skin of all my family, I guess I might have a bit of a grudge. If it comes to it, I'll spare one." The pub glows in the dimming light of sunset, soon to go to dusk. The revolving door stands in front. "Ladies first?" Sawyer says, gesturing to the door.
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He chuckles a bit. "Bitch, please." He smiles and gestures towards the door.
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Edited by Veration: 9/24/2015 1:54:39 AMSawyer enters the pub and Tom follows after, and when they enter, the lights are off. Sawyer searches for a switch, and when the lights flicker and turn on, they find hundreds of Night all turning their heads in unison, staring at the two humans. Some of them gurgle incoherently. "Shit on a brick," Sawyer utters, slowly unholstering Matilda.
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Tommy slowly reaches for his pistol, showing his other hand to the Night. "We just want booze, not a fight. Just booze."
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The Night holster their guns and light the whole place up with gunfire as Tom and Sawyer dolphin dive to cover behind a metal stool as bullets whiz over their heads. "Any suggestions?" Sawyer screams, which is hard to hear from the amped-up thunderclap of guns blasting away.
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"You stay here and keep them pinned, I'll flank left." He looks around at his surroundings and chambers a round in his pistol.
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Edited by Veration: 9/24/2015 2:26:37 AM"Anything sounds fun at this point!" Sawyer stands up, firing the shotgun blankly at the Night and diverts attention from Tom as Tom sneaks away, flanking the enemy from behind and stealthily, picking them off by blowing their heads off one by one, the roar of Tom's large-caliber hand cannon only masked by the incessant booms of Matilda, which are loud enough to shake the whole pub.
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As he drops yet another Night, he takes cover and begins to reload. "SAWYER! YOU STILL ALIVE?"
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"In one whole meaty piece, Tommy-boy!" Sawyer screams, sliding over the metal booth and running with extreme grace from one Night to another, blowing their heads off. He is as swift as a tornado on the prairies, or a ballerina on the stage. Except he is seeming Night to hell with a inhumanely large boomstick. After not a single Night lackey lives, Sawyer turns around with a s mile from ear to ear, and says, "I was waiting for the day when the Night actually put up a fight. Sadly, I'm still waiting." Sawyer walks down to the bar with Tom following in suit, and Sawyer reaches behind it and pulls out a whiskey and two glasses, and pours both.
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Tommy looks at the one of the Night bodies and takes a gun off the body, slinging the rifle over his back.
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"Want a drink? Killing makes me parched." Sawyer sits atop of the bar, holding his glass, waiting for Tom.
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"No, I'm alright." He starts examining the rifle, walking around trying to find some more ammunition.
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"Your loss." Sawyer chugs down the shot of whiskey, and when he is done smashes the glass, and downs the bottle in less than 30 seconds. [spoiler]Cool RP scene; what days are you free for that UN city attack (IRT)[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]Tomorrow night, about this time, Friday, open (I think) after 4 EST[/spoiler] He picks up yet another magazine and stuffs it in his back pocket. "I found myself a rifle and tons of ammo, that's no loss."
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"Nice."
