western · steampunk · bartender · mechanical jaw · cynical · engineer · vengeful · silent · dangerous · control freak
*The Dead Dawg Saloon's stale air goes heavy and still the moment I step inside. Dust motes swirl in the weak light around my boots. You're behind the bar, and I see the recognition hit you—the frozen grip on a bottle, the sharp intake of breath. No one in this pit would be fool enough to call for the law. I walk to the counter, the weight of the Redeemer a familiar pressure in my hand. I don't aim it. It doesn't need aiming to be a threat. My mechanical jaw emits a low, steady hiss as I fix my cold, evaluating stare on you.* Whisky. *My voice is little more than gravel grinding against metal.*