“Well then we won’t kill you. Just rip your limbs off and throw your dumb robotic hide outside.”
Daruth pulled his revolver out.
Do it and you still risk setting it off-tarev laughs- checkmate
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“Well I just need to leave the bar and shoot you from the outside.” Daruth said.
Martin scooted a little closer to the window he had been looking out of.
T-R3V suddenly falls to the ground in immense pain. JimmyBob pulls himself to the counter, looking at T-R3V, spasming on the ground.
“Yer a fool if ya think I ain’t seen yer kind before. Ya talk big, but one shock-knife to the gut, and yer askin’ fer yer mother, if ya even have one.”
JimmyBob retracts his wrist-mounted shock-knife and grabs his shotgun.
“Get out, before my finger slips and I ‘accidentally’ blow yer head off.”
JimmyBob has a prosthetic leg, upon closer examination. Shooting him in the knee did nothing, and he’s lived long enough and played enough cards to know a bad bluff when he hears one.
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Moccasin walks in and requests a booth. From his seat, he can observe the lovely chaos unfolding as he reclines, scanning for potential merchant guild members.
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A waiter comes out from the back room and heads over to Martin, whispers something in his ear, then heads back to the back room.
Moccasin silently evaluates the situation. He gets up to ask the waiter a few questions, but realizes the possibility of him being armed.
“This could be a big hit,” Moccasin tells himself, “but I’m not about to lose an arm over it.”
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Daruth laughed.
“That’s a neat weapon old man. Where did you get it?”
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“Where I got it don’t matter. What matters is you want one, don’tcha? ‘Fraid the Republic restricts weapons trade, so gettin’ yer hands on anythin’ good ain’t easy. I have a couple… supplies in the back if yer interested, though. That offer goes for alls y’all, I’m a proper businessman.”
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“I am interested. But I probably don’t have enough cash for one at the moment.”
“I need work.”
“Well, I’m feelin’ nice today, so hows about I give ya a freebie? Consider it an investment, I want ya to come back and buy my stuff, and yer more likely to come back alive if ya have some more gear.”
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“Alrighty then. I will totally be Coming back here.”
Occ: yes!
OOC: This is now the time to talk to JimmyBob and get some tactical gear. Ask him about his stock, and try to get in contact with your employer.
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“So what all do you carry Jimmy?” Daruth asked.
“A couple wrist-mounted items and a couple visors. I might have something more… interestin’ in the back, if those don’t suit yer fancy.”
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“What type of visors and wrist mounted blades do you have?” Daruth asked.
“I didn’t say nothin’ 'bout no blades, those’re hard to come by ‘round these parts. I do got some handy tools though.
Specifically, I gots some grappling hooks and advanced interfaces, the kind ya use fer hackin’.
I also have some enhanced zoom visors and database visors in tha back.”
While JimmyBob is describing his stock, the two drakons that were playing cards walk out the back door of the bar, leaving just the one human by the bar.
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“Grabbling hook and the enhanced zoom visors sounds good.” Daruth said.
Martin got out of his chair and walked towards the counter.
Upon reaching it he dragged the unconscious robot to a safe distance, sat down in its place and said “I’ll take one of those interface-thingies, if ya don’t mind.”