The pub, if you could call it that, was much busier than normal for a Thursday night. The smell was an odd mix of old stale bread and cheap beer spilled all over the wooden floor, peoples shoes made a horrible sticking sound whenever they walked. Both regulars and hardly seen faces were inside the old run down tavern as people from the entire town had filled in every building they could that night. Of course, having to take shelter from Psy-Rain was commonplace, especially across Novv. And, all things considered, there were many worse places to be stuck for a few hours until the weather passed. As unsafe as the pub seemed, softly shaking from the wind on its light wood frame and the screams of something clearly inhuman dying outside, in reality it has its virtues. Hot food that wasn't from a tin, fresh water, a sense of community, and most importantly: a roof.
The conversation from across the pub was much louder than normal due to the increased population the storm brought, some workers talking about installing new water filters across the town, some soldiers complaining about having to clear an inevitable amount of dead birds and rats that couldn't make it to shelter after the weather subsided. Conversation about the road to Vorsk being cut off due to a new Stray pack attacking every single convoy that went through filled the dart table as people played and talked. Even the corner in the far back of the room, unofficially reserved for the soft whispers of “trade” deals, was instead filled with talk of even more rebellions in the far west. Much too far for anyone in the pub to substantially care, but close enough for everyone to be comfortable commenting how pointless it was to fight for power as a group, when the very rain above their heads could destroy any party in minutes.
.
A man who had come in just before the doors were shut walked up to the bar to fill a seat that had been emptied, the game of darts in a corner of the room getting more and more serious, drawing more and more people away from their stools. His wavy dark hair poked out from under his hood, barely short enough to not get in his eyes. His tan vest and empty leather holster were lightly damp from the rain outside, but not enough to cause any serious harm. Maybe a few small side effects, but not nearly the worst of what psy-rain does to people.
As the man sat, the bartender looked at him for a second before returning to his work. That is, for around half a second before his salt and pepper beard whipped around to look the new man in the face a second time. In disbelief, the man said “Holy shit. You’re back.” The bartender's shock that was displayed clearly in his voice was replaced by pure joy and excitement. “Welcome home!!! Jesus, it’s been too long.” the words somehow still being louder than necessary through his large, thick beard. The creases around his eyes growing in size with what must've been a larger than life smile. Fitting, coming from a larger than life man.
A loud slam and both men's heads turned to face the noise. What they saw were two men laughing as hard as a person could at one of their own jokes, one with messy, dirty blond hair and the other with a short buzz cut that revealed a burn, coarse and rough, clearly from taking a wrong step in the field and walking into a Burner. Both men wore matching clothes, shades of dirty red and white covered the almost leather armor look that the outfits had.
Incorrectly, the man noted to himself. The wrists are way too tight and the collar is hanging by a thread. Anything neck level and they’ll feel it.
Both men were very clearly drunk, slurred speech loud enough to be heard over the already loud room, talking about who was the most attractive in the room and who would be easiest to beat in a fight. For the latter, they settled on the man sitting across the table from them, a shorter man who had tools strapped across his chest. His dark yellow beard filled with crumbs from the bread on his plate, but other than the sloppiness he ate with, there was nothing special enough about the man to want to fight him. The blond man pushed the workers' food away from him and started to grab at the tool belts strapped across his chest.
“Back to being your bouncer” The man said to the barkeep, rising from his stool and walking toward the drunks. “Don’t worry it’ll be like old times” The security guard stationed by the door stood from his stool and glanced at the man behind the bar. With a soft shake of his head and a wave from the older man, the guard sat back down, confused and albeit disappointed.
When the man got to the table, the blond man had, for the moment, let go of the worker across from him and let him pick up the tools that were now thrown across the table. He moved a quite pretty young lady who had been laughing with the men from her seat. As she got up, she wrapped her arm around the neck of the blond man and, while glaring at the man who told her to move, said something into the drunk blond's ear.
“Hey man, someones sitting there.” The drunk man somehow managed to spit out coherently
“Oh I know I am thank you.” The man with the breather said, plain as could be said while he slid onto the bench with the drunk man directly to his left
“Hey I don’t know what your problem is, but you gotta go.” The drunk spilled out
“Hm? Oh I will, I will.” The man sipped from the drink he had momentarily stolen along with the seat on the bench. After the quick gulp, the man asked “Why are you causing problems in my friends pub?”
The drunk smiled to the man next to him, and with a slight, definitely booze induced giggle, slurred “Look mister sir or whoever you are, this isn’t about you so..”
“No, this is about someone stupid doing something stupider in my friend's pub. Take your drink, take your friend, take your lady, and go sit over there.” The man nodded towards the section of the room by the entrance, which was still busy but not shoulder to shoulder packed like the rest of the room.
Being this close, the man noticed how, while the man with the buzz was relatively short, he and the blond were about the same height. He also saw how the man with the buzz cut noticed the necklace around the man's neck, a bullet hanging from it swaying. The man watched as some of the drunk confidence melted away in his eyes at the sight of it, knowing its meaning.
“We’re not moving man ok? Let her sit back down and leave us the fuck alone and go away” The man with the buzz said, while seeming to hide behind the blond.
“Trust me I'm not in love with talking to you either. So take your lady, stop causing problems in my friend's bar, and please, please shut the hell up.”
“Hey man.” The drunk blond pushed him in the shoulder. “Do you even know who you're being an ass to right now?”
The man looked his neighbor on the bench up and down, then went back to his newly acquired drink. “I know exactly who you are, friend. Just couldn’t give less shits if I tried.” The man went away from his drink and looked the drunk right in the eyes, the coolness of the man's dark, nearly lead gray eyes staring through the drunk. “Get up and move.”
In an instant, the drunk smacked the man's beer off the table, the bottle flying across the packed room until it hit the wooden walls right next to the dart table. As the glass shattered, the conversation instantly died in the room, eyes torn from the near bullseye on the board and now all aimed toward the man and the drunk. The man glanced over at the barman, who almost uncaringly shrugged to the man and turned his back to the room.
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“You better watch what you…”
As quickly as the words came out of his mouth, the drunk had his dirty blond hair gripped from the base of the scalp, the wind rushing in his face as the man next to him shoved his face into the solid wood table they sat at. With a crunch of what was either broken cartilage or wood, the drunk's head snapped up, almost bouncing off the table. As soon as he was aware of what happened to him, the same hand wrapped around his jaw and threw him off of the bench, the floor hitting him like a boar. A grunt came from the drunk man's mouth as his back connected with the planked floor, the world starting to spin around him.
The man still seated swung his body over the bench, his knee quickly connecting with the rising man's neck just under the chin. With a loud crack, the drunk stopped rising, instead the weight of his body dragging him back to the cool floor of the tavern.
After taking a moment to drink the rest of the drunk's drink, the man finished the mix of Smirnov and something strong tasting the man couldn’t make out but burned like acid, and got up from the bench. He bent down and felt the man's pulse still beating in his neck, now bright red from the impact that had put the drunk in his current position. He looked over to the drunks friend, and seeing the look of a child seeing their sibling getting yelled at for something they did as a group, the man walked back to the bar. The noise of the room finally picking back up as the main source of entertainment for the night had clearly ended.
“Who the fucks that guy?” the man asked, nodding back to the man now unconscious on the floor of the pub, people stepping over him to watch the ending of the dart game.
“Ah, probably just a new hire for security. Fresh batch came in cause of those strays on the road to Rosk. I'm shocked you didn’t put it together. You of all people should know how the new guys get, start thinkin they’re all untouchable, they get full of themselves pretty damn quick.”
“He was different Sid, you know that.”
“Oh yeah he was. He was a bigger asshole than any of these guys until you came along.” The bartender stopped focusing on the glass in his hand and looked into T’s eyes, full of the type of pity and sympathy only a man like Sid could give. “You made him into a pretty damn good man T.”
“I didn’t make him into a thing. All I did was see the him that a lot of people couldn’t. Then all I had to do was give him the chance to bring that version of him out for everyone”
Breaking the deeply sympathetic stare, Sid shook his head disappointingly “Shit, it's been 5 hasn't it?”
“6 next month” T said dryly, as if the words would hurt less if they came out quickly. One look at his face and you could tell they didn’t.
“Well, I’d offer you a shot but I know what you think of my drinks, which you're still wrong about by the way.” Which made T chuckle a little. Sid had a way of connecting to people he liked, it was just a matter of getting him to like you. “So, all I can do is offer my condolences, and my real condolences, not the bullshit I spat at the idiots who come in here whining every night. He was a genuinely great man, and god knows I miss him.”
“Thank you Sid, genuinely.”
I do too
After some minutes of the two friends just sitting enjoying eachothers company, Sid clapped him on the shoulder, his large hand always hitting far harder than he means it to.
“Hey, how bout a fun topic huh? It's been too long since you’ve come home for us to just talk about sappy shit. How'd the last run go?”
After sitting up straighter and clearing his throat, T. smiled “We made it back home and got paid, all that really matters right?”
Sid chuckled. “Well, if that isn’t the truth. What's the future looking like for you?” The barman finished with whatever cleaning he had to do and started sipping from a green bottle. “You know I know someone I could introduce you to. She's tall and batshit insane, exactly your type.”
T laughed, a rarity for him outside of the pub, “God I hate how well you know me. But, even if I was ready for it, Rich has us moving already. He wants to jack up prices cause of all the storms. Swear to God Sid sometimes it feels like he's our master and not our boss. He tells us what jobs we can take, what supplies we can bring with us, what we can take off robbers we deal with, hell he makes us split our cigarettes knowing damn well he has plenty.”
“When you’ve been doing runs as long and transports as he has, you kinda just get to make your own rules. Are they usually fair, hell no. But you know he would die for each and every one of you guys.”
T sighed “You know I was really hoping the old age would’ve gotten to you by now and you'd stop being right all the time”
Sid laughed, his massive beard shaking like a tree being blown in the wind. “Ha. One day you’ll get your wish, but for now I'm still gonna be as perfect as ever.” The aging bartender said with a smile. “So, you guys need work right? I might have a few jobs.”
“Yeah, like what more ‘finding missing people’ just for you to swoop in and ‘kindly offer them refuge’ for double your normal rate”
“We both know that they easily could have avoided that entire situation. And besides, I remember that money going to a certain birthday gift hanging with the other weapons in the locker.” Sid took a long sip from whatever cloudy black drink he had. “No, these are pretty normal for you guys.” Sid pulled out a glowing blue tablet, dotted with jobs and people workling them. All across Vorsk, Artostka, and even other places T hadn’t been stupid enough to venture to.
“Some artifact retrieval from the Hollow, some local settlement official needs security that doesn't instantly stab him in the back for a deal with their neighbors, I have a few basic hit jobs.”
T thought hard for a moment. As tempting as it was, Rich would never go for any of those. They weren't “Desperate enough for that dirty shit” as Rich so elegantly put it around their last fireside meeting.
“Those sound great”, T finally said. “But I doubt he'd go for any of them, and I'm not looking to take a job without him knowing at the moment, he's less jolly and bubbly than usual.”
Sid looked around and, after a moment, leaned in close. At almost a whisper, he said. “I have one more no one will take. Now before you lose your shit you need to let me explain it ok?”
Leaning in to meet him, T cautiously responded, “Ok, what is it?”
Sighing, Sid looked around again and responded, “It’s for the Kova Company. A transport job. You'd be taking some of those tunnel freaks from one place to another. I think it's pickup in Glašk and drop off in Rosk. Now I know everybody’s… hesitant to work with them” That's definitely one way to put it. “But it’s simple, easy, and the money is as real as can be. Two hundred thousand for a completed trip”
That number made it clear to T that he had to get Rich in on this job. After hearing a price like that it wouldn’t matter how messy working the Kova can get. The money's worth it.
“If it’s so simple, why so much? Kova has deep as fuck pockets, but even that's steep as shit. I’d be shocked if this whole town had that much. What’s the catch with this one”
“You're right there's something about this one. This ones gotta be different somehow. But hell if I know what it is. Look, I know it's not the most attractive of employers, but it's money. And even if there is a catch, It’s nothing Rich and you guys can't handle.”
The wind had finally died down outside and the non regulars started flowing out of the bar. The storm was long gone and all that was left was an odd, unnatural smell in the air that clashed heavily with the nature nearby, just on the other side of the concrete walls. T rose to leave, still wondering if the job was a good idea at all, or if it was truly too good to be true. Clearly it is. The only question is, is the reward enough to justify whatever might happen out there. It's a long walk.
After the two men hug, Sid nearly crushing T in a giant motion that cracked several parts of his back, Sid cupped his hand around T’s cheek.
“As little as we see eachother now, just know I am proud of you. You’ve gone through all types of hell T, and I’d be lying if I said it’s going to get any easier, but I know if anyone can do it, It’s the man in front of me.”
“Thank you uncle Sid, I can’t say it enough”
After one more hug, Sid pulled back and said “You visiting like this is more than enough. Stay safe T.”
After T went to security, retrieved his gun, knives, and his bag, he turned towards the bar again and called out to the old barman one more time.
“I think we’ll be taking the job Sid. We’ll come visit after, promise.”