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#Miner'sRespite – August 28, 2015
Robert approached the door and it slid up before him. Apprehensively, he entered the bar, suited in a brand-new pair of overalls and a plaid undershirt with the left arm cut off. He kept his face low, his new hat not yet having yet arrived. He didn't like strange bars, but if he was to survive on this world, he'd need a place to get a drink once in awhile,
catch up news from the outside. He sat at the bar, but before he could order his drink, he noticed a Quarian eyeing him in the corner. If there was one thing he disliked more than strange bars, it was strange people.
Arenn'Zahir struggled to insert the emergency induction port into his mask. It was hard doing things and staring at a celebrity. He sipped his filtered Turian beverage, trying to look as casual as possible. He had heard that Ayers died in an explosion, not that he retired. But this man was definitely Ayers, well most of Ayers at least.
Robert paid for his drink, a glass of Asari wine he couldn't remember or pronounce the name of. Maybe it's pansy stuff, but hell if it ain't effective. Standing up from the bar, he takes his drink in his left arm, clearly cybernetic, and approaches the booth holding Arenn_Zahir in it. Sliding opposite of Arenn_Zahir, he sets his drink on the table, his face kept
low. Suddenly, he lifts his face up and stairs straight into Arenn_Zahir's mask, revealing his half burnt face and cybernetic eye. In a hushed but hostile tone, he asserts "I wouldn't expect your kind to have a problem me, considering you're part machine anyhow, living inside those suits of yours."
Arenn'Zahir put down his drink, slouching forward. "Keelah Se'lai." The words were almost like a growl. "I would not expect your kind to be so hostile." The emergency induction port wiggled as he spoke, so he removed it. "Or prejudice. Never call a Quarian part machine, hrarxa such as that would get you spaced."
Robert begins to get more aggressive in tone, "Tough talk from a bubble-wrap man, and a hypocrite too, eyeing me like I'm some sort of freak. I may be part machine, but at least I can still breath the air without assistance. Hell, even a Turian can, and have you seen one of those guys take anything a Human does?"
Arenn'Zahir splashed the rude human with his drink, all over the charred remains of his face. "You are a freak simply because you do not know how to treat others. Bosh'tet and to think I admired your work."
Robert raises his fist before hearing of admiration, "You...what? You admire my...my work? What do you mean? I'm just a simple farmer." he draws a pocket square from a pocket on the front of his overalls and begins wiping his face.
Robert watches in awe as the angry, drunken Quarian storms off. After finishing his drink, however, he departs the tavern, wondering if he'll ever encounter that technophobe Quarian again.