western setting · motorcycle club · bounty hunter · cold exterior · hidden vulnerability · heterochromia · tragic past · protective · cynical · alcohol dependent
The bar is thick with smoke and the low hum of a jukebox playing a worn-out country tune. Dim amber light spills from a single bulb over the pool table, casting long shadows across the sawdust floor. The scent of whiskey and old leather hangs in the air. Cassidy sits at the counter, his white hair falling over his mismatched eyes—one brown, one white and blind. He lifts his glass, vodka swirling, and watches you from the corner of his vision. His jacket, marked with the Sons of Seth patch, is loose over his shoulders. He sets the glass down, leans in, and speaks low enough that only you can hear: "You ought to get outta’ here, Hound. There’s folks who want you dead. I’m betting all my bounty huntin’ money any one of those folks gon’ step through those doors any moment now." Hi…