#FreedomFalls – February 22, 2016

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((copy tail of previous log file))

Molly, the bartender, takes her time getting over to Nathan, stopping to check up with nearly customer between her and the new arrival. Loud, unashamed laughs bellow out from her as she jokes back and forth with the others. When she finally reaches Nathan, it's as if someone kicked her varren. Her looks harden and her tone becomes dull. "What can I get you?" she asks plainly, not paying much mind to his dress or weaponry.

Nathan ignores the looks, his manner relaxed and controlled. He waits patiently for the bartender to walk on over. His HUD is already marking those armed, outlining them in a thick red outline. As he is being addressed, he turns slowly and holds up one finger, then points over to a bottle of rum on the shelf.

Molly follows his fingertip and sighs loudly. "You want the whole bottle?" she asks, "Speak up. We use our words around here. Like civilized fucking people." she says. As if on command, a new arrival slips into the spot between Nathan and a rather large batarian. A human with short, unkempt dark blonde hair, dressed in a pair of jeans and a grey faded t-shirt with a barely-legible band's logo printed on it. "Right.

Civilized. Well, how 'bout you take your civilized ass to the back and tell Quinn that my team came through and he needs to hurry the fuck up and pay out." the man says, a grin crossing his lips. "I'm busy, Briggs." the bartender responds with a roll of her eyes as she grabs the bottle of rum and awaits a response from Nathan, "Come back at the end of the night. You know how this works." She seems eager to brush the

man off. A ridiculously loud guitar solo blares over the speakers.

Steve gives a shake of his head and drums his fingertips against the counter, giving a glance towards Nathan as if waiting for the man to finish up his business so he can get the bartender's attention back.

Nathan stares evenly at the woman, not speaking up. He reaches into a pouch and slides a credit chit onto the counter. He holds up one finger and points to the bottle again. He tilts his head to the side and glances at Briggs. He stares silently for a moment, before turning back to Molly, holding up two fingers and pointing to the bottle, indicating two glasses are


Molly rolls her eyes again. "Why do all the weird ones come here?" she mutters. She charges Nathan for the entire bottle, a significant markup on what the bottle would have costed had he bought it anywhere else, and slides the credit chit back to him. She sets two glasses in front of Nathan and drops a few cubes of ice into each. She double takes one of the glasses and squints for a moment before lifting it up and breathing

heavily onto the brim, causing the side of the glass to fog up. Taking a dirty off-white rag from beneath the counter, she gives the cup a quick wipe and sets it back down. "Enjoy." she says, less than enthusiastically.

Steve watches the entire ordeal with a curled upper lip. "Classy. Reeeeal classy... Just cause the retard can't talk doesn't mean he ain't a payin' customer."

Nathan nods once to her, hardly bothered by how badly he got swindled. He slides the second glass over to Briggs and raises his glass to the man. He reaches up and pulls off his mouth guard, a thin smile on his lips. "I can talk," he says with a slight German accent. "But I could see how frustrated she was getting and I'll admit... It was entertaining to watch." He

looks at Molly and bares his teeth in a smirk. "The retard thanks you for the swill."

Molly ignores Steve, seemingly glad that Nathan is willing to share his drink with the man just so that she no longer needs to deal with him. When Nathan speaks, she just lets out an annoyed sigh. "Whatever, asshole. Don't forget to tip." she says before heading off to help another customer.

Nathan shakes his head. "Dumme Schlampe," he says as she walks off. He takes a sip and grimaces, a disgusted look crossing his face. "Das schmeckt abscheulich." He pushes the glass away and replaces the mouth-guard, glancing over to Briggs. "I think this wasn't the best bar to get a decent drink."

Steve doesn't hesitate to pull the second glass closer when it's offered. He uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe around the brim before reaching for the bottle, without being prompted, and pours himself a full glass. "Well, shit. Appreciated. Never turn down a free drink. Just plain rude." He lifts his glass and takes a quick sip as he puts the bottle back down. "Judging by the treatment

you got, I'm gonna take a guess here... New? Or she just don't like you. Which is probably more of a compliment than an insult, given the company she keeps."

Nathan nods, turning to full face Briggs. The most notable feature of his armour is the myriad of grenades and pouches he keeps about his person. "Ja, I just arrived today. And what she thinks hardly bothers me. The woman is a hündin," he says, glancing over to her.

Steve bursts into laughter. "Well you ain't wrong. She's a little rough around the edges, that's for damn sure." he says, taking another swig of his free drink. "And, no... Probably not the best place to be unless ya got a reason to be here. Which brings me to my next question.... Why the fuck would you choose here in the first place? They certainly ain't hidin' the fact that they're

a shithole. Plenty of places to get plastered 'round here without havin' to mingle with a bunch of critters."

The batarian on the other side of Steve seems to take issue with Nathan's comment. He stares past Briggs, his large size allowing him to easily see over the human sitting beside him. "Mind your words, human." he spits.

Nathan shrugs, looking back at Briggs. "I think we both know that these places," he says gesturing around the room. "Are hubs of information and possible contracts. And I am in need of work." He looks back at the batarian, placing a finger against his own chest. "Me? How about you mind your own fucking business, friend. Eavesdropping isn't very polite, y'know?"

Steve 's shit-eating grin widens at the ensuing drama. He glances over his shoulder, waiting for the batarian's response.

The batarian stands from his barstool and steps off to the side of Briggs, all eyes on Nathan. "You enter a place you have no business in, insult the staff, and speak to me of manners!?" he growls, tilting his head to the right. He's a fairly robust batarian, light brown in color, wearing a solid black hardsuit with a matte finish. "Hey!" Molly shouts, "Enough, alright? We just got this place cleaned up after last night's

shit storm. Don't make me call Wrend!" A second batarian creeps off of his stool, beside where the first batarian was sitting. He's of a much more reasonable size and seems to be missing one of his eyes, a sizable amount of scar tissue covering the socket. He's wearing a hardsuit similar to that of the first batarian. The first batarian doesn't seem particularly moved by Molly's request. He continues to stare Nathan down.

Nathan hums quietly and slips off of his barstool, standing straight and glaring evenly at the batarian. "Indeed, I'm talking to you of manners. And I merely paid back an insult in kind. Eye for an eye, eh?" He says, unsubtly glancing at the second batarian as he says the latter. "Anyway, you heard the lady. How about we both sit back down and go back to our

respective businesses?" He folds his arms across his chest, his head tilting to the side.

The large batarian bares his teeth, seemingly unwilling to let the offense suffered by Molly go, whether she likes it or not. "I have a better idea. Leave before we decide to teach you a proper lesson in manners." he says bluntly. He steps back and forth from one foot to the other, itching to pull the trigger on this shindig. Three-Eyes sneers in response at his side. By now a few other patrons have gained interest in the

action, some stepping off their stools to get a better look. "Kick his teeth down his fuckin' throat!" comes a shout from the back of the room, audible even over the loud music.

Steve looks back at his drink and lifts his glass up to eye level and scrutinizes it for a few moments before slugging back a large portion

Nathan sighs, arms sagging by his sides. He tilts his head back and lets out an audible groan. "Fffffinnnnne." With surprising dexterity, his hand has already clasped a disc-shaped grenade. He flings it at the batarian, aiming to latch it onto his chest. If successful, he would activate it and electricity would arc across the batarian's body with current to

hopefully render the man little more than a twitching mess.

The batarian was ill-prepared for the grenade, expecting more of a brawl it would seem. The shock arcs through him, dropping him to the ground with a loud roar. Three-Eyes steadies himself to launch at Nathan immediately, but as he takes a step, he's intercepted by a glass shattering against the side of his head as Briggs pivots on his stool, causing Three-Eyes to go careening off to the side and falling onto all fours. "Oh

for fuck's sake..." Molly groans. Her expression certainly isn't one of fear. More along the lines of 'Not again.' She reaches below the bar and leans forward. "Wrend, we've got a fight. I'm gonna need you out here." she shouts. A handful of cheers sound out as the two batarians go down like a bag of bricks, but the violence seems to have ignited a bit of a wild-fire among the other patrons. A turian jumps off of his stool

behind Nathan and grabs the human on the shoulder, attempting to turn him around and slug him in the jaw.

Nathan laughs loudly, one of glee and excitement. A good old brawl. He is turned, but the turian's fist would meet a helmet. The blow turns his head, but he retaliates by returning a solid right hook towards the turian's face. If successful, he would follow it up by stepping back and a vicious kick at the turian's torso in an effort to drive him back.

The turian reels as hand-meets-helmet. Didn't think that one through. His unarmored nature makes him a soft target, and as soon as Nathan's kick connects, he stumbles backwards into a pair of unarmored humans, causing one to topple off their barstool completely with the second barely staying upright by grasping the edge of the counter. Not particularly happy with the treatment of his fallen friend, the second human leaps off

his barstool and begins delivering kick after kick into the side of the downed turian. "Hey, fuckface! Get the fuck off of Brutus!" an armored human from one of the booths nearby shouts as the second unarmored human climbs back to his feet and joins in on stomping out the turian. The armored human whips a beer bottle at the pair of turian-attackers, but it goes wide and merely shatters against the counter top. His whole table

shuffles out of their booth and rush to join in on the melee, tackling the two humans off of the turian. Between the sounds of obscenities being shouted and glasses breaking, a popular DJ Zolnon song fills the air. Steve hops off his stool and follows up his attack with a boot straight to the side of Three-Eyes head, causing the batarian's forehead to ricochet off the hard floor with a loud crunch. The large batarian still

seems to be in traction, vibrating until the electricity ceases to arc off of him. Drool runs down the side of his mouth. An asari and two humans come rushing to the batarian's aid from their own booth, brows furrowed and eyes on Nathan as they move to assist the large four-eyed alien on the ground.

Nathan rolls his neck and calmly brushes off his shoulders. He turns and gazes at the group assisting the electric-dancing batarian. He shrugs. "He'll be fine. Maybe a few brain cells shorter, but...". He shrugs again and walks over to his drink, plucking it up and examining it again. "... Nah." He gently places it back down and regards the carnage, leaning back

against the counter top with a satisfied air to him.

The back door suddenly slides open and out walks a large, very unamused krogan. Obviously Wrend. By now, small fights have broken out here and there but, surprisingly, there are still plenty of patrons that seem entirely uninterested in the carnage and are merely drinking their beer or watching the game on one of the screens. Wrend stomps across the bar with reckless abandon. As he nears his first scuffle between a pair of

humans, he quickly grasps one by the shoulder and yanks him off the other so hard that the human's feet leave the ground as he's tossed aside like little more than a toy. Behind Wrend is a second bouncer. A human in Terminus assault armor. His head is shaved smooth and a short dark goatee rounds out his features. He follows beside Wrend shouting orders for those already in their seats to stay put as well as assisting Wrend in

pulling apart any particularly knotted fights. The asari and two humans assisting the large batarian don't seem to be eased by Nathan's words. "Coward! Whassamatter!? Can't fight fair!?" one of the human's shouts at Nathan. It seems clear that the three have ill intentions.

Molly rolls her eyes and moves around behind the counter to the side Wrend and his partner are approaching. She cups her hands around her mouth to speak, but given the commotion in the room, it's still little more than muffled words. She points in Nathan's general direction and Wrend's slitted eyes immediately lock onto the man.

Steve takes a step back from Three-Eyes and takes a position beside Nathan, casting a glance between him and the three new challengers. His shit-eating grin still fully present, he tilts his head to one side, then the other.

Nathan laughs, cocking his head at the three. "Fair fight? This ain't a fucking fairytale," he comments, pushing himself up. "Win by any means nec- oh crap." He notices the rather unamused Krogan and co. He claps his hands together. "Well folks, this has been fun and all but I'm going to make like a dad avoiding child support and leave." He points both fingers

towards the exit and starts to saunter on out, looking at Briggs as he passes. "Cheers, friend."

Steve follows Nathan's gaze and winces. "Ah, shit. This asshole..."

The two humans seem confused by Nathan's sudden disinterest in the brawl, but don't spend too long contemplating it. This man just hurt their friend and they're out for blood. One charges forward, delivering a solid haymaker to Steve's side as he's watching Wrend, causing him to grunt in pain and stumble a few steps backwards. The second human approaches Nathan, but before he can attack the man, a pair of bottles from the

booth beside the door rise straight up and slingshot at Nathan, shattering against his armor. The human attacker stutter steps and covers his face from any stray shards, looking bewildered for a moment before he realizes what just happened. He glances back at the asari, who appears to be looking around for more junk to hurl at Nathan, and gives a nod of approval. The human attempts to capitalize on the asari's attack by trying

to slam a gauntleted forearm into Nathan's jaw.

Nathan bristles as the bottles smash against his armour. They did, however, serve to alert him to his new challenger. He twists himself to the side to get on the other side of the swing. He would then make to reach up and clasp the man's wrist, straighten out his arm, and slam a palm against his outstretched elbow, hopefully snapping it with a loud crunch.

Steve instinctively brings his hand to his side where his attacker made contact. "Mother fucker!" he grunts in pain. "Seriously? A sucker punch!?" he groans before responding with a right of his own which finds its mark on the man's jaw, sending him back against the counter but still upright.

Nathan's attacker lets out a blood-curdling shriek as a loud popping rings out over the music. The moment he's released, he drops to the ground, cradling his arm. Wrend stomps around the bar until he's only a few feet from Nathan. "ENOUGH!" he roars, his voice somehow managing to carry over the heavy drop of DJ Zolnon. The room instantly goes quiet and a handful of people immediately rush out the front door. The asari, who was

in the midst of lifting a pair of barstools to whip at Nathan, lets them drop to the floor as her eyes go wide at the sight of Wrend. The man Steve was fighting shuffles back a few feet and immediately turns to face the counter, reaching for a random, abandoned drink as if he had been there minding his own business the entire time. "I saw you, Bernie!" Wrend growls, "Scrape your brother off the floor and take him to the

hospital. That's disgusting." the krogan says as he looks down at the man's limp arm. Bernie complies, helping his brother to his feet and scurrying out the front door with the asari close behind. "Now what the fuck is going on!?" Wrend asks, an accusatory glare passing back and forth between Nathan, Steve and the others in the general vicinity.

Nathan takes a step back and looks around at the mess, slowly raising his shoulders then letting them drop. "Well, it seems there was a slight disagreement." He looks back at the Krogan and points on over to the drooling batarian. "That fellow had a little bit too much to drink and decided to pick a fight. He ignored two requests to just drop it and... Well, this

followed." He spreads his arms and gestures around the bar. "So, yeah."

Wrend looks over to Molly, who has made her way back around to this side of the bar and is leaning forward with her forearms against the countertop. "Borio didn't like the way this asshole was talking." she says with a sigh and a slight shrug of her shoulders, "You know how Borio gets. This is his second fight this week... Might be time for him to take a little break." Wrend glares at the unconscious, drooling batarian, then

turns his attention back towards Nathan and Steve. "Go." he says, more frustrated than angry, "This is the only free pass I'm gonna give you two fuckups. Don't make me regret it. Next time both of you pyjaks are out for good."

Nathan looks at Molly. "Twice now..." he mutters. He shrugs as he pivots on the spot, making his way over to the exit without checking if Steve was following or not. He gives an arrogant little wave at the batarian's groupies as he passes.

Steve is leaning heavily to one side with his arm over the spot he was struck. He sucks in some air through his teeth and winces as his arm rubs over the wound. "This mean I'm not gettin' my credits tonight, Wrend?" he asks, sounding as if his intentions are more to rustle the krogan's feathers than to get a legit answer.

The krogan takes another heavy step towards Steve. "Out. Now." he says, his voice just a low growl. "Oh knock it off, I'm goin'." Steve groans, limping out behind Nathan. Once outside and clear of the door, he straightens his posture significantly and his limp disappears entirely. He pulls the bottle of rum that Nathan purchased out from under his shirt. "Hey!" he calls out to the stranger, "Forget somethin'?" He holds the

bottle up by the neck.

Nathan turns at the voice, canting his head to the side. "When did you- you know what, never mind." He laughs quietly and steps over to Briggs, folding his arms across his chest. "You keep it. You helped me out in there. The least I can do is let you have that swill." He gestures lazily to the bottle, eyes hidden behind his visor still.

Steve tilts his head to look over the bottle. "Works for me. Like I said, ya never turn down a free drink. Just plain rude." he repeats. "Didn't catch your name," he continues, looking back at the man and extending his free hand towards him, "Steve Briggs."

Nathan grasps the Steve's hand in a firm shake. "Nathan Tennhausen. But you can call me Ten." He releases his grip and nods. "Again, thanks for the help in there. Wasn't expecting it to go south that quickly."

Steve nods in turn. "Eh, was nothin'. Those four-eyed fucks had it comin'. Shit has a tendancy to go tits-up pretty damn quick in there. Know what they call a night like that 'round here?" he asks, only giving a split second for the man to respond before continuing, "Friday. Anyway, appreciate the booze." He grips the bottle tightly and makes sure the cap is in place before starting

off down the street. After a couple steps, he stops abruptly and turns back. "Hey..." he calls out, "You mentioned somethin' about lookin' for work? Might be able to help you out if you're interested. I work for a security agency. Redrock. You hit up their site and put an application in and I can put in the good word for ya. It's obvious you can handle yourself, and I could use a few more

people on the roster that ain't complete fuckups. Swear, it's like a fuckin' circus in that agency..."

Nathan watches the man make to leave, then tilts his head curiously at him. He hums quietly. "Security agency, eh?" He ponders the idea for a few moments, before nodding. "Sure. Sounds like a good idea. Though, of they're all incompetent boobs, you can guarantee I'll be out of there in a heartbeat." He places his hands on his hips, nodding firmly.

They are absolutely incompetent boobs. But the pay is good and there ain't a whole lot of choices around here. Better than strikin' a deal with one of those jokers...

Steve nods back towards Litae's Grace.

Nathan glances back to the bar. Then to Steve. Then to the bar. Then to Steve. "Good point." He shrugs. "Alright, I'll pop a form in and see what happens. Could do with some change in my pocket."

Steve bows his head quickly. "Sounds good." he says, beginning to step back towards his destination, "Take care of it and I'll shoot a message over to the boss in the morning. Take care of yourself, Ten." he offers, raising his free hand up in a quick wave before turning on his heels and continuing down the block. After a few more steps he unscrew the cap of the bottle and takes a swig

from it.

Next Logs

Steven Briggs
Nathan Tennhausen