The Saloon

Roleplay (Started 4/15/23, ended 4/26/23)

Blue text written by Huna, the owner of Stefan/the Tasmanian Devil. - Sorry I had to remove some of the accent marks, they messed with the code. :(

Takes place in the Silent Run Saloon, a year after Samuel Tilley was put on parole. Features alcohol consumption.

~~~

It was a relatively quiet night in the Silent Run Saloon. A small band played some ways away but there was a little less people this time around. Perhaps a few of them had finally quit their drinking.

There was, however, one man you could always count on being there, and he sat by himself in the corner with his back turned. He was a slightly heavy man with a black coat that looked a little too tight and a cowboy hat with a single bullet hole through the rim. But the figure looked a little more miserable than mysterious when you got a good look at him. He drank some whiskey straight from the bottle and slouched over his table.

It felt like only yesterday that Samuel Tilley had been one of the most feared and successful outlaws in the land. The Night Falcon, they had called him, for his speed was unrivaled. He could loot a whole town within minutes, for God's sake! His horse was just that quick, and his shootin' was even quicker.

But sometimes even the fastest jackrabbit gets captured. He remembers the day quite clearly. One second he was up to his tricks in a little place called Silent Run, two guards down and a fair amount of gold already in his pockets. Then the next second he was chained up in a little concrete room with nothing but a little barred window for the next three years.

After being put on strict parole, he made it to the bar for the first time in hopes of easing his misery. Nothing helped. No matter how drunk he got, he'd still wake up the same sad shell, just with an added headache. Yet he kept coming back to the bar anyhow. He got bigger and bigger until his old prison clothes didn't fit him anymore. And what of it? He'd only become more miserable, perhaps no closer to getting out of here than he was back in the cell. But that didn't stop him from trying on occasion.

Currently, however, he just continued to drink, thinking about how much happier he'd be right about now if he could just get his hands on a horse and two guns.

~~~

Between the stake outs and the robberies, Stefan never really any had time to drink nor did the outlaw even like it that much. It was a rare sight to even see him in the saloon unless he was gathering information from the local bartender. No, most of his days now included being on the run, they always have, it that was consistent. He had quite a reputation built up for himself, having coined the name 'The Tasmanian Devil' for himself.

So, no one really knew why the outlaw stepped into the pub that night; Perhaps he really had just wanted some of that liquid courage or perhaps it was work related in some manner...

Either way, it was already nightfall when Stefan took his first steps into the saloon. His brown eyes darting to the only person to be seen. By the look of it, the man seemed to be nothing more than the town drunk.

Having said that, Stefan still took a seat next to this stranger. Paying no thought to him - until it caught his attention from the corner of his eye. The hat upon the man's head.

At first, he wanted to ask where the stranger had found such a fine piece of work, something so iconic. Yet, the more he looked at the man the more recognizable he became.

"Ay Dios, mi amigo!" Is what came out of his mouth, more so in a tone of surprise and shock at the sight before him. The familiar outlaw looked nothing like he had few years prior. "Is that there who I think it ta be?" he said, not really taking his eye off of the bender. Is this really how The Falcon spends his days?

~~~

Caught up in his own daydream, Samuel was only vaguely away of another man coming to sit next to him. He didn't pay much mind to him, only grumbled to himself and shifted his body away. He stared at the rim of his bottle for a few seconds, rubbing his index finger around as he imagined the barrel of a gun. A gun that he could sling around and shoot guards as he pleased. A gun that he could use to get out of this place. He imagined all the gold he could get with one right about now. Oh, what a joy it would be to finally return to that life.

He brought the bottle to his lips and chugged, his eyes closed as he probably believed himself drinking melted gold, life itself, before suddenly he heard a voice next to him. He immediately choked on his whiskey, causing droplets to spew in all directions, before turning away as he started coughing hard.

That voice. He hadn't heard it in years, but in all his memories of his times as an outlaw, he knew he recognized it. It was hard to think of anyone he'd want to see less right about now. He'd dealt with enough judgement from random townsfolk already. The last thing he needed was The Tasmanian Devil seeing him and getting ideas.

Finally he regained himself and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He lowered his hat over his face as he sat back up, trying to look as cool as he could. He faced straight ahead and pretended not to look at the other outlaw, but every now and then he stole a glance that was mostly hidden in shadow. It didn't help seeing that the other man hadn't changed that much. It came as a shock that he hadn't recognized the Devil the moment he sat down.

"No, I think you got the- uh... wrong guy." was the smartest answer he could think of. His tone was low and calm, but his stumble suggested he was more nervous than he presented himself to be.

~~~

The bandit's eyes narrowed, his gaze getting stronger the 'stranger' that sat next to him. Something about the look upon his face screaming that he wasn't convinced. Another part of him was just thankful he hadn't gotten a face full of spit and whiskey.

"Would that be so?" The Devil's eyebrow raising as he spoke with a suspicious tone. Though, he was slightly amused at the interaction. "Wrong guy, hm? where d'ya reckon you got that good ol' hat there then?" He said as he crossed his arms and leaned himself against the counter. If anything, how he spoke was more lighthearted teasing that saw right through his lie.

~~~

Oh, right. The hat. Bullet hole and all. It was one of his most prized possessions and he wouldn't have given it away for anything... aside from maybe his freedom right about now. That being said, he still tried to keep up the lie that he was somebody else, looking back down at his whiskey bottle.

"I bought it from some guy for a bit of ammo, now go away." He grumbled without glancing at the Devil. The way the other outlaw teased him was beginning to get on his nerves, and now he didn't even care if his explanation was a little implausible. He just wanted to go back to drinking his whiskey in peace. Even for what little joy it brought him, it sure would beat having to explain himself. The part of him that was still an outlaw was already mortified enough looking through a mirror.

~~~

Unfortunately to Samuel's dismay, Stefan was not buying it one bit. Which was displayed by a chuckle from the man's mouth. Nevertheless, he took the opportunity to turn his gaze forward - calling over the bartender when he could. Alcohol may not be his favorite taste it's still something he could fancy in the moment. He couldn't help but to pause in the moment however, his mind wandering on how someone like The Night Falcon end up a drunk old buzzard. Stefan knew what he was like, he knew what he was a capable of. What was he doing here? How long had he been here??

There was a bit of silence that followed, regrettably for the Falcon the Devil did not leave as he was told to. Rather, he waited for a drink to be served before continuing the conversation.

"No can do. Ah refuse to belief it, muchacho." He shook his head a little with a laugh, his attention towards his cup as he swirled the contents within it. "Thee bugger I knew wuldn' have sold that hat for a single penny.-" Pausing between his sentence to take a quick swig. "-come awn, drop the act. You ain't foolin' a soul." He said teasingly, already looking back towards the Falcon. "I know it's ye."

~~~

The whole time, Samuel was loosely aware that the Devil did, in fact, not leave. He wasn't really surprised. The younger bandit couldn't possibly let something like this go, could he? He tapped his fingers across his whiskey bottle, unable to find his appetite now with the fellow outlaw sitting right by him. It was quite uncomfortable.

When the Devil went right back to talking, he began to feel his anger bubble up again until Thee bugger I knew wouldn' have sold that hat for a single penny. He couldn't help himself. Still staring at his whiskey, he started to slowly smile. He even began to laugh, even if he held it back to just a tiny exhale.

"Fine," He finally said, "The hat is mine. I'm the Night Falcon." He lifted the hat as he spoke, revealing a near-perfect circle of fuzz underneath, "and now, if you so desire, you can make fun of my hair."

His tone was a little more lighthearted now, if just a bit sad. Admittedly, he was hoping the Devil would make fun of his once-straight hair and not anything else. Even now he still didn't make eye contact.

~~~

With the sudden shift in the Falcon's energy, Stefan couldn't help but to reflect a grin as well. He mirrors the others action's and took the moment to take off his hat as well, as some form of respect; Revealing his current hair, faintly pink ends that looked poorly dyed with some flowers of sorts with his old natural color as roots.

"I knew it! Eye' bloody knew it!" He cheered, raising his glass in the air with some enthusiasm. "-Ye never fooled me." He said finally, setting his arm fall back down. It didn't take much time after for The Devil to reach over and pat his back, like a pal greeting a pal.

It took a minute or two for him to pickup what the fella said next. "Yer hair?" He stated, raising an eyebrow in a state of confusion - letting his eyes guide him to the sight of the man's head. "Ya' changed it up-!" Exclaiming again, before continuing "-it's different' that's fore shore. But I'm more interested in how someone like ye' ends up in a joint like this." Asking simply but friendly, mainly overrun with curiosity though.

~~~

Unable to rise as much to the occasion, Samuel continued to sit there in silence. He wasn't really used to people patting his back these days, and jumped a little at the touch. He eventually began to pick up at least a fraction of the Devil's friendliness, though. He finally tore his gaze away from his bottle and looked at the other outlaw, managing a small closed smile.

Although he was tempted to tell the Devil that his hair was actually always curly and he'd just not had the time to straighten it anymore, he knew that next question would eventually come up. Before his capture, drinking was pretty irregular for him. He was more likely to be smoking a cigar if you ever ran into him.

And more obviously, a lot else had changed about him than just his hair texture. He looked off in the distance as he concentrated, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's a long story..." he said, letting out a drawn-out sigh, "First of all, they captured me." He lifted out both hands lightheartedly, "I know, didn't think that day would ever come, did you? But it did. About... I dunno, four years ago."

The memories still quite upsetting for him, but he tried not to show it, deciding to ruefully play the whole thing off. It seemed like the best way of being able to explain it while keeping his dignity somewhat.

~~~

For a moment, Stefan had turned his head to its side with curiosity; An interest for Falcon's story, if you will.

Stefan set down his glass, letting on his shoulders rest against the bar - shifting the rest of his weight to turn towards the former bandit. For most of beginning of the tale, the devil's head nodded along as he listened. Nodding at the corresponding moments and analyzing how the man spoke of his tragic past. The thought of a man of his skill being caught was an unpleasant one, one that made him uneasy to think about.

"Hijole! Four years mi amigo? You've been 'ere forr years?!" There was a sense of disbelief in his words, as a wave of shock. Within four years Stefan had been to several states, claimed hundreds of bounties on others, robbed a handful of towns, and much, much more. Is this really all his old acquaintance had been bound too? Nothing more than cheap booze?

There was still an expression of shock through his own eyes, you could tell if you looked closely enough. "And you're still here, compadre? Haven' evur try to skip town??" He asked, because that's the first thing he would've personally attempted.

~~~

The Devil's shocked reaction certainly didn't help much. At the time, it'd felt like decades. Now it hardly even felt like a few weeks since he'd been an outlaw. So to think it'd been four years... even Samuel thought he could've done so much more with that time. Imagining all the gold he could've stacked up in such a timeframe made his heart pang with regret.

Upon hearing that next question, however, Samuel's mood quickly shifted from sadness to a bitter anger, although not at the Devil this time. He huffed and slammed his fist down.

"That's just the thing," he replied, continuing his story, "I was only in prison for three years. Then they put me on parole. You can't see my chains anymore, can you? But they're there. They want me to be on good behavior. So, apparently, no guns, no horse, and definitely no getting out of here." He finished dully, before adding, "At least, that they want to know about."

His tightened brow lifted a little in hope as his anger waned at the thought. If there was anything that kept his sorry self going aside from whiskey, it was the tiny prospect of escaping this dumb place. He had no clue when he'd actually be released, so it felt like a risk worth taking.

~~~

Upon seeing his old friend getting so worked up, Stefan couldn't help himself to a chortle. That being said, it wasn't judgemental whatsoever; if you had put him here for the last four years he would be worked up too. Nonetheless, as bad as it sounds, he found the display entertaining.

The bandit shifted his shoulders back to the bar in front of him. Lifting his glass once more to his lip. "Good behavior? No wonder you're still 'ere!" He exclaimed, letting out more of a hearty laugh this time. "And you be meaning to tell me you hadn' got ahold of a single blasted ol' firearm this entire time...? Ujole!" Finally speaking with an undertone of disbelief.

"You evur think what'd ye do if ya got outta 'ere?" Speaking, letting his teasing banter cool down to a more serious tone. Tapping the bar with his fingers as he spoke.

~~~

On the other hand, Samuel clearly didn't find his situation all that laughable. He didn't even smile again for a while, waiting for the Devil to be done. Perhaps he could understand when he thought about the absurdity of it. But that didn't change the fact that he’d lost four years of his life to Silent Run, Montana and there was no getting them back.

The next question helped him look on the bright side again, however. He lifted a hand, rubbing his pronounced chin. "Tell you what. You can't ground a perfectly good Falcon for very long. He's always gotta fly again, and that's exactly what I'll do." He sat up higher, already forming the plan, "While I'm at it, I'll find whoever old Sandy got sold off to, and then I'll buy a gun. No- two guns. Three."

Eventually he turned towards the Devil with confidence, looking him straight in the eye. "And that's a when, not an if. I'm getting out of here, just you wait." A big smile arose from him, creating wrinkles in his chubby face and revealing straight but yellowed teeth. As different as he looked now, the picture was so distinctly the Night Falcon. If not the hat, the smile was definitely unmistakable.

~~~

"Ain't that the spirit." He responded, a little cooly now; Followed up by a shorter chuckle. The pink-haired one couldn't help but admire the aspiration from the former Falcon. It was quite an ambitious dream of his, one that Stefan hoped would come true. For his friend's sake. Yet there still some doubt within the Tasmanian's thoughts, specifically on how achievable the end goal was.

He took another nip at the liquid courage in the glass in front of him. It took another minute for him to swallow the minimal mouthful drank. Finally setting it back down with an 'Ahh.'

Logistically, he was unaware how plausible the whole scheme was for his pal's sake, based on the current state of his health. But he still offered positive encouragement, "oh ye bet ya I'll be waitin'" and once again, extending his arm to pat his back.

"-Though, ye sure yer gunna get three straps by yerself? Positiv' you're not gonna 'elp?" And he turned himself forward, but the had an expression upon his face screamed that he had something in mind, like he was scheming something...

~~~

Hearing the Devil's enthusiasm definitely lightened Samuel's mood. He didn't notice any doubt from the other outlaw, either. It was rare that he got that sort of reaction from people, but that made it matter to him all the more. As such, he didn't really care if his plan was a bit of a stretch. It just felt good to believe in something.

Feeling rather confident now, he took a sip from his own bottle, swaying in his chair. Hearing the Devil's next question, he considered it for a moment. The parole definitely made it hard for him to do much in terms of escaping, so an extra bandit on the outside could help...

Eventually, however, he shook his head. "No need. The Falcon works alone," he stated with a smug smile, adjusting his hat, "Anyway, what have you been up to, partner? I'd guess you're still in this game just fine, judging by that lil look on your face." He pointed towards the Devil with his bottle.

There were other signs too, of course. Generally the younger guy hadn't changed like Samuel had. Just the same, aside getting his horse and guns back, Samuel himself also really wanted to return to his old look. He avoided bringing it up, however, as that subject was a little touchy. Instead, he decided to push the conversation over to the Devil.

~~~

"Suit yourself then." Calmly stating with a smile and a shrug. He couldn't force the man to do anything he didn't want too, this included. If the man insisted he could escape a whole town with nothing but his name, then might as well let him try. Even if Stefan knew it probably wouldn't turn out in the old man's favor.

"Me? You bet your bottle's bottom I'm still init. These towns just can't seem to keep me out." Stefan laughed, elbowing the Falcon's arm a bit. "They hardly see me comin'. My bounty have never been higher I tell ya." The Tasmanian mentioned it with pride, as if it something to be joyous about.

"-Eye also met someone. Ya might've heard of 'em. Thee Desert Angel ringin any bells?" He inquired, tilting his head. Stefan of course, was referring to Florence Lambridge, a fellow outlaw like Stef. The Tasmanian first had met her whilst hijacking town's gold stash, the angel ended up with everything instead. At first, the two were an equivalent of romantic rivals but that's a story for another day. "Dios mio... does she know how to win me over." He said, trailing off a bit. If the Falcon were to look over at 'The Devil' now, all he'd gaze upon is a single man in a love struck trance.

~~~

Feeling a little too good to be all that jealous, Samuel calmly smiled back as he took the elbow. "That's good, that's good." He responded, taking another sip of whiskey. Half of him was actually pretty happy for the little Devil, even if it didn't help himself too much. Then the other half wanted to think that would also be him as soon as he got out of this place. It blotted out his longing for the most part.

Upon the conversation shifting over to the other outlaw's apparent new sweetheart, though, Samuel began to feel a little jealous. His smile slowly fell and his gaze wandered, although it could manage to look like he was just trying to remember where he'd heard her name.

The Falcon, on the other hand, had never been in love. Handsome as he'd been in his bandit days, all women ever looked at him with was fear. He assumed it was just part of being an outlaw. Jumping back to the present, he tried to tell himself once more that this was just silly. He'd said it himself: the Falcon needed nobody.

Looking back towards the Devil, he reached a hand to his face and snapped his fingers several times. "Oi, stay with me there," He said, a little amused, "Tell me about her, I'm afraid I'm not familiar." Judging by the way he spoke about her, Samuel assumed she must be another outlaw. He didn't know every one of them, of course, and he was a little curious.

~~~

It didn't take long for the Falcon's words to reach the loverboy, who eventually got reeled back into reality. "-right! Right." Clearing his throat a little abruptly, partial embarrassment upon his face.

"She be another criminal - one hell of a bandit she is. Dare I say she exceed me?" From the way he talked about her you could tell just how much he adored the woman. "She can handle herself just fine... she actually stole a heist right from undernea' me." Though, Stefan tried to contain himself somewhat. He didn't want to bore the falcon with so much of his love life. "That's how we met, actually. Never would think it'd end up like this." wrapping his ramble up nice and tidy for everyone's sake.

~~~

Samuel rubbed his chin again as he listened, although taking in only half of the information. It was interesting to think that this outlaw he'd never heard of before possibly exceeded the Tasmanian Devil, but hearing that next part really made him whistle.

"Gee, sounds like a wild woman. I'd be careful 'ith that one," he joked before taking yet another chug. He realized his bottle was empty, and not feeling ready to go just yet, he called for another.

"Y'know, I've had a few times where someone tried to steal a heist from me," He spoke as the bartender got his drink, "Never lass'd very long. Not everyone who steals candy fro'a kid can do it, y'know?"

He laughed at his own joke as he popped open his second bottle. Overall he seemed in pretty good spirits, although the Devil might've noticed that his words were getting a little slurred now. He could feel himself becoming the slightest bit tipsy, but in his high, it only drove him to keep talking.

~~~

Stefan couldn't help but to chuckle and nod at the others man's remarks. Though he paused upon seeing the man's speech and how it was slowly deteriorating. He also saw how despite this, the Falcon only ordered another drink for himself. Stefan couldn't help but to think of how much longer till this man was blackout drunk.

"Wild but kind I tell ya. Sweetest heart, if you get past the whole wanted-in-several states thing." He jested a bit before hearing the other's follow up to it.

"Sometimes ye just gotta put them in their place, ya know!" He exclaimed as he realized he himself was finishing the glass in front of him. But he didn't order himself another cup.

~~~

Samuel held up his bottle but didn't drink it yet, turning back towards the Devil and nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, see- that's jus' the fun of it. You make a living out of humblin' folks," he stated with a firm rub of his nose before making his voice very deep and rough, "Oh, look at me. I own e'most secure bank in all of the... the duh- the Dakotas." He turned his free hand into a gun and pretended to fire it off in the distance, shouting "Bang-bang!"

As he did so he even jerked his body to simulate the whiplash of each shot, but ended up splashing a few drops of whiskey on the counter. Muttering an apology to a somewhat annoyed-looking bartender, he wiped it off with his sleeve. As he did so, his eyes narrowed and saw that the Devil's glass was nearly empty. He moved his bottle over and started pouring some of his whiskey in, no questions asked.

"Here, why don't I get that for ye," he said with another cheeky, yellow-toothed grin on his face.

~~~

"Right..." he said, slowly nodding, his brown eyes keen on noticing the man's drunken state worsen. "Ya gotta a point, the look on their faces when they realize you've hustled 'em is priceless tho." Snickering at the very thought of it. "It's practically like they wanted to get swindled!!" He declared rather expressively.

But then he saw the considerate act from the man. His face frowning only slightly. "-oh, no need! That was my las'; I don't feel like getting hammered 'ere anyways." And it was true, he didn't. It was never even his intention anyways to stop and get a drink in the first place. Stefan only got one to accompany the Falcon.

~~~

Samuel didn't seem to take any notice of the Devil's concern as he put the bottle down and passed the glass closer to him. On the other hand, he didn't see much other point of staying at a bar than getting hammered. Besides, they were having such a good time. Somehow he knew he didn't want to be drunk alone.

"Give it a try. It's goo'for you." He said half-jokingly with a slow chuckle. Leaning closer, he gave the younger fellow's back a playful rub. The smell of whiskey was strong on his generally unpleasant breath.

Finally he leaned back to his spot, reaching back for his bottle. "Y'know... Why'd'ja come here, anyway?" He muttered almost crossly as he tipped the bottom up for another drink.

~~~

It was a considerate act no doubt however Stefan, as previously mentioned, was not planning to get drunk anytime soon. Who knows what things he'd say, what secrets he'd tell. "Ya' know I don't like the taste tha' much." Politely declining the filled glass in front of him, not wanting to hurt his feelings. It still didn't stop from moving his face a little backwards from mans stench of a breath.

Only letting himself relax once the man removed his hand from his back and returned to how he was. "Jus' passing through town. I heard sum rumors and figured no better place to hear gossip spread than this ol' gutter. Nothtin' too interesting I'm 'fraid." It was, but he was a bit too humble on the matter to admit it. Besides, even if the Falcon was bound to this town, he'd still want to keep his future plans to himself in case of sabotage.

~~~

Samuel chugged the bottle as he half-listened to the Devil's answer. He still seemed a little disgruntled about something or other when he placed his drink down rather hard and leaned over the counter.

"Thatssright," he agreed, "I've been in thisss town for a looong time, as long as it would be enough for me to know, with as long as I've been here... to know... that there is nothing interesting in this town but whiskey!" He slammed the bottle against the wood again for emphasis, "Why, diiidja think I liked the taste either 'til they chained me here? I hated liquor!"

He definitely seemed angry now as each slurred sentence of his came out in a growl. The reddening of his tightened face was visible even while he looked away from the Devil. Clearly, the mood swings were in full effect.

~~~

It was kind of obvious to Stefan what Samuel was going to say, even before he said it. It didn't a genius to guess that whiskey and booze was the Falcon's favorite past time here. Still, he wanted to be considerate of his acquaintance's current state. "Least ya found a hobby, somethin' to do here. God forbid they stuck you somewhere more boring than this train wreck." He retorted, chuckling a bit.

Still, it didn't make much for him to catch wind of these mood swings. So it was the equivalent of walking on egg shells not to say the wrong thing. "They can't keep ya here forever though. Maybe you'll eventually get out of this lil hellhole of yours." Saying at last as he leaned into the bar, swirling the whiskey in his cup yet not drinking a sip.

~~~

Thankfully for Stefan, this seemed to work for him well enough. His scowl fell and his brow softened. Just as quickly as his anger had appeared, it was beginning to wane.

"More boring..." he echoed, his gaze lowering back down to his bottle as he paused, "...Thank God. Liquor must be great anywhhhere." He proceeded to down another three or four shots-worth of that stuff before practically flopping back onto the bar. Then he covered his mouth and belched.

"A-And 'at's right," He agreed again as he sat half-way up, "I will. I'll sssshow them. I won't 'eed aaan'body's help, eithhher. Never have, never willll, neverrr do..." His words were becoming so slurred now that it was probably hard for the Devil to even tell what he was saying. It was hard to even tell who he was talking to at this point...

~~~

At this point, Stefan was barely sure the Falcon's words were even legitimate words. They were barely coherent as they were. It was quite a sight.

"Yup, y'll show them pal. I know ya will." At this point Stefan was just speaking to keep him calm, even if he didn't necessarily believe what his own words. If anything, he didn't know what else to do... if it continued perhaps Stefan would have to call it a night and be on his merry way.

~~~

Expectedly, the drunken man began to tilt while Stefan spoke, his forehead leaning against his bottle and a long string of drool leaving his still parted lips. Only, he forced himself up just a few seconds later, refusing to go out yet.

"A-And...! If they think they can distraaact me... haha... they got aaanother thing comin'. I'm the fastest man iiin the west. My brain is so... fast..."

In irony of his words of which he seemed to say towards nobody in particular, he was obviously struggling to stay awake. The effort of even sitting up was causing him to sway. And yet he still attempted to keep himself up just to tell Stefan how fast his brain was.

"I tell ya, 's a big missstake... to underste-minate... the Night... Fal... con..."

As his nickname slowly left his lips, his eyes sealed and he started to lurch backwards in his seat instead of forwards. The stool tilted along with him. One second there was silence, and then the next: a chaos of noise. He crashed heavily onto the floor, almost sliding a little, and brought the chair down as well.

The few people that were also in the bar immediately turned around upon hearing the commotion, but it wasn't long after most had glimpsed the man that laid there that they all went right back to what they were doing. They acted in the sense that this was a common occurrence, in fact, and nobody even cared to check on him.

If the Devil did, however, he'd find the man unharmed but unconscious. He likely blacked out before he hit the ground.

~~~

Oh my. Wasn't this a scene.

Stefan wasn't quite sure of what to do as he watched the events unfold. There was the mighty falcon, on the floor, in such a drunken state almost all his dignity was gone. It was a sad reality to face but it the truth almost always hurt.

As much as Stefan would've liked to see the Falcon return to his former state, this was not the route that would allow it as it stood. There was nothing to be done.

With a tiny exhausted exhale, the man pushed him self from the counter - sliding a few cents down to pay for his own drink - before standing up; Fixing his attire, straightening it to his best look.

It didn't take a genius to guess the cause of the sudden crash, yet he still bent down to check. Tsk. tsk. Shame really. All there was left to be done was to lift the man's recognizable hat from the floor and place it upon its rightful owner's head. That in its own right was his way of saying farewell, after that he left. Who knows what happened after that...