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Post by Jack on Dec 20, 2017 21:41:20 GMT
Pandora was a dangerous enough place for your average Tom, Dick, or Larry, an unforgiving wasteland filled with even more unforgiving people. But the danger was doubled when you had the tragic misfortune of sharing the face of someone hated by damn near everyone on the planet, but he'd never exactly been the lucky sort anyway, so was it really all that surprising that he was in this predicament? Not really. But then, nothing really surprised him anymore, even two long years after nearly dying on the damn moon, even after that jackass was dead and gone, he was still left here trying to live with the consequences of someone else's actions, still picking up the pieces of a mess that he didn't make. It was lousy, annoying, exhausting mostly because he seemed to always be on the move, not out of desire to live nomadic, but because staying in one place for too long meant more chance of being spotted by the wrong person, and he'd had enough of being shot at. Hollow Point had been the closest civilization to where he was that wasn't Sanctuary, he was still avoiding that place like the plague, given that the entire population had doubly personal reasons to shoot first and ask questions later. He would pass, for now. It wasn't exactly a home away from home kind of town, but then he'd never really had a proper home to begin with, so his frame of reference left a lot to be desired. Still, it was the closest thing to normal that he'd seen in a while, and Timothy had learned not to be picky. There didn't seem to be many people out an about, which was better for him as he hiked the hood up over his head, it only did so much to conceal his tragically distinct face, but it was better than nothing. He hummed a thoughtful sound when the purple lit building caught his eye, fairly classy...Or as classy as a Pandoran bar could look, still, it was faring a lot better than the Bandit structures he'd gotten used to seeing, "Purple Skag huh..." The behemoth at the door didn't go unnoticed(it was hard to miss that much man), and he ducked his head a little as he slipped in through the door in an attempt to seem small and altogether nonthreatening, not that it was hard, given how little a thread he actually posed.. He let out a relieved sigh when he was safely through the door, lifting his head a little more to take in the people that were currently scattered around the bar, too many for comfort, but he was exhausted from travelling, and he would risk it this time just to sit and maybe have a drink. He slumped his head against the bar top when he finally took a seat at one of the stools, letting out a long breath before lifting his head to take a careful glance around. Lloyd
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Post by Lloyd on Dec 20, 2017 22:03:44 GMT
Things had been so very… very busy lately.
Perhaps that was of August’s own fault – he had been branching out the criminal syndicate he had all but found landed in his hands the moment of his mother’s demise, extending the power and influence that it could bring him. Of course it had likely led to far too many nights of next to no sleep, and more trials and errors than one man would ever necessarily like to actually admit, but things were looking up from how they had been only a couple years before.
Would she be proud of him for it, for all the work he had put into things? Somehow he didn’t think that Vallory had ever the capability for it, not towards him, but perhaps thankfully for the blond man his thoughts were reasonable far from her right now.
It thankfully wasn’t too impossible to ignore the touch of exhaustion that occasionally pervaded through the bartender’s senses as he worked, taking and filling orders at need be where necessary. He had a few helping out around the Purple Skag tonight, keeping most of the tables clear and the place in as reasonable shape as its current crowd allowed. Tector stood at the door – the man might be missing a few necessary chromosomes, being a Hodunk and all, but his loyalty in the past few years had proven invaluable and given his rather intimidating size he had almost assuredly scared off more than a share of unnecessary trouble. There were a couple more working for August within the current throng itself – one or two nestled comfortable around the bar, just keeping an eye on things.
You never did know when trouble did decide to pop up.
This one, a newcomer he didn’t recognize from the usual crowd of patrons he tended to have, didn’t immediately give off that sense of trouble. Although he’d caught them entering from the corner of his eye, noting where they had decided to settle themselves, he was in the process of filling a mug of rakk ale for one of the regulars who liked things cheap and couldn’t drop everything go investigate. Making his rounds around the bar would take him a few minutes, but it wouldn’t be long at all before he stood before them.
A blond brow rose a bit with an air of distinct consideration as he contemplated the newcomer for a second, another, before he finally spoke up. “Welcome to the Purple Skag. What would ya like to drink?” Although his gut instinct was to be somewhat wary, maybe even reasonably so given the sort of world that Pandora was, there lingered nothing of that within his voice - only polite professionalism. For now, at least.
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Post by Jack on Dec 20, 2017 22:35:36 GMT
Just act cool and try not to draw attention to yourself, and you can walk out of here without any new holes. He'd gotten pretty good at pretending he wasn't there, but of course he'd also just walked into a bar, where at least someone would inevitably ask him if he wanted something, which meant that he would have to speak(because remaining silent would be doubly suspicious and rude), and as much as he'd tried to, he still hadn't managed to deactivate the implant that changed his voice...Maybe they wouldn't pick up on it around here, the city was underground, how much could any of them actually know?
Timothy was clearly deep in his own thoughts, because when the dusty haired barkeep spoke he jumped visibly, his eyes turning up for just a moment before he cleared his throat and darted his gaze back down, looking half tempted to bolt for the door until he considered the giant man standing there, the fact that running over a simple question would definitely point him out as someone in trouble, but he still half glanced to the door, as if weighing his options.
He let out a heavy sigh after a moment and kept his eyes focused hard on the table, foot tapping just a bit out of nervousness, "Ah yeah...Uh...Hmm..." He cleared his throat again, sounding very much like someone trying very hard to sound like someone else, "gimme the uh...Strongest thing you've got...Please...Thank you..." His words trailed off and his face beneath the hood read 'this is how I die', of course, there was every chance that this would be fine, he could have a drink, and then book it as fast as he could out the damn door.
It was a 50-50 really, and so far he'd been as lucky as a man in his particular situation could be, but this was a gamble, and Timothy had always been a pretty shitty gambler.
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Post by Lloyd on Dec 20, 2017 23:06:13 GMT
If August’s instincts on this fella hadn’t been screaming at him before they were certainly sounding out to some degree right now. If he had to describe this one he would’ve said he seemed far far too twitchy for any true comfort, enough so that he pursed his lips together in a thin line, brow furrowed a bit. Why was he so nervous? He had only asked a relatively simple, and altogether plausible, question – after all the stranger had moseyed his way into a bar of all places, so it probably made since the he’d, you know, want a drink.
He didn’t know yet if he was necessarily a danger within his establishment, but something was almost assuredly not sitting right when it came to this.
That voice though… there was something about it something eerily familiar, that he didn’t like either. Of course most of Pandora was by far too familiar with Handsome Jack’s voice, and even if years had now passed by since the megalomaniacal bastard had been slain it was probably difficult to forget the voice of someone who wanted to genocide an entire planet. As it was he had managed to successfully hide it just enough that the bartender didn’t immediately recognize it for what it was, for who it actually belong to.. even if such a reached conclusion would be unbeknownst a wrong one in the first place.
“Must’ve been one helluva day if you’re already askin’ for something that could knock you flat on your ass sideways.” But August could only shrug with some vague bemusement as he finally half turned away, scooping out a chilled, clean mug in order to fill it up at one of the taps. That done he’d turn back, easily settling it on the bar counter in front of the fidgety patron. "That all you need for now?" For the moment no one else within the bar seemed to be signaling him down in need for anything or other, so he supposed he could take this spare time to try to figure out what the hell was off about this one.
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Post by Jack on Dec 20, 2017 23:29:34 GMT
It felt like way too many minutes ticked by as he waited, practically holding his breath, for the other man to either buy his lame attempt to not give himself away, or for this encounter to go heavily South, he'd gotten used to expecting the latter rather than the former in those rare few encounters he did have...He'd gotten even better at not having those encounters in the first place. He really wasn't ready for a bar fight, for any kind of fight, even if he wasn't nearly as shitty a shot as he used to be...He still didn't fancy his chances against the owner or the rest of his patrons.
But when the man did finally speak, Timothy's shoulders and the rest of his body slumped a little in relief, and without thinking, his reply came out in a less concealed voice than the previous, "ha...That's a severe understatement...I'd kind of like to forget the last few years if at all possible..." He let out a long sigh, if he was being honest, he'd never been all that heavy a drinker in the past, he'd been one of those students who spent most of their time nose buried in books, but it wasn't like he had any reason not to anymore, and being knocked on his ass and forgetting was better than nothing.
When the drink was placed in front of him, he took it and nodded, "yeah, all good here...Thanks..." Maybe he could just get blackout drunk and wake up in a world where this wasn't his life now. He looked into the mug for a moment before tossing back a generous gulp of the strong drink, enough that the hood slipped off his head at around the same time that he choked on the strong as hell alcohol.
He sputtered against the bar stool, too distracted by the coughing fit to immediately notice that his vision was just a little less shadowed, and when he did finally notice, he glanced around with an expression that was very reminiscent of a frightened animal caught in the headlights of a car, or a man who had only just now realized that he'd done fucked up.
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Post by Lloyd on Dec 21, 2017 9:26:08 GMT
Between there being a bar fight and things being worked out otherwise August definitely would find himself preferring the latter. Bar fights were expensive, shockingly enough, and while he had the money nowadays where he was able to take care of things with relative ease there was enough time and resources such events wasted that he’d honestly just prefer to avoid when he could. At least at his own establishment, please and thank you.
And that was… a little less falsified than prior. It was enough that he grimaced briefly at the memories it did jog – he had never had any personal experience with the monster who’d called himself Handsome Jack, but there was a lot of unpleasantness remaining towards Hyperion. Hell – he had been wholly willing to fuck over Hyperion years prior before that had blown up spectacularly in his face.
“You and quite a few other people, I’m sure. Good for business at least.” Just as he had suspected the alcohol was probably too damn strong for the poor fool, but before he had the chance to recommend something a little more soothing after such punishment he caught an eyeful more than what he had been expecting. He had been on the cusp of figuring things out, but while there were some distinct differences from the old photos and statues that still dotted across Pandora that face was pretty much undeniable.
For a moment August’s expression would be something unreadable before he leaned forward, seeking to reach out and try to plant a firm hand on the other man’s shoulder. If it proved successful the grip would neither be painful nor punishing, both of which he was entirely capable of doing. However he wasn’t trying to draw attention to them, and for the moment it didn’t seem as if anyone else in the bar had noticed anything was amiss.
“I would recommend you putting your hood back up and comin’ with me. Preferably without making a fuss.” Because yes he damn well had more than a few questions. He’d seen the pictures – they had been all over the ECHOnet, the vault hunters standing victoriously over the body of man who owned the same face that was staring back him in seemingly abject horror and panic.
This man before him really had some necessary explaining to do.
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Post by Jack on Dec 21, 2017 10:25:27 GMT
He was several seconds away from bolting out the door, making as much distance as he could between himself and this bar, if he didn't continue to sit there damn near close to panicking, Timothy had never been an especially brave person, and while his stint on the moon had brought a bit of self confidence back to the man, it had only done so much, and he was just as likely to panic in any given situation as he was to react with a calm and level head, it was a 50-50 really, and right now his brain was contending between a flight response and a sit here like an idiot response.
August's hands on his shoulders had done one thing if nothing else, the firm contact had grounded him enough to come back to the situation in time to hear August's words, blinking a few times before he popped the hood back up over his head and gave a nervous nod, more than a little eager to be somewhere where there weren't so many people. He'd clearly gotten lucky that this guy seemed to be one of the few who didn't subscribe to the shoot first mantra, at least in this case, he owed that mostly to a lack of desire to make such an unnecessary mess in his own bar, given he had nothing else to go off of.
"R-right...Alright...Yeah..." He let out a sigh as he slid from the seat, ready to follow August to the back...But not quite ready to explain what he was inevitable going to have to explain. Even if he wasn't entirely guilty of Jack's crimes, there were still things he'd done, things he'd been made to do, that he'd rather not talk about, and if he was lucky he wouldn't have to.
"Listen uh...I know this looks really weird right? B-but like..." He trailed off, then let out a rather defeated sigh, and once they were out of the eyes and ears of the other patrons, he waved a hand, "you've got questions...I'll do the best I can to answer them...But Hyperion isn't exactly generous with the info they give out..." By the time he'd known what was really going on, it had been well beyond too late to say no, and he'd been fairly desperate anyway, so he wasn't entirely sure if he'd of turned them down even after finding out their intent.
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Post by Lloyd on Dec 23, 2017 8:09:17 GMT
Should the newcomer have bolted August certainly would’ve been torn between letting him go and stopping him… though reasonably he would likely lean more towards the latter than the former in that case. Curiosity be damned he wanted answers now, and those would likely be most easily provided by the very person who had not so merrily brought them along into his bar.
Or… something like that.
If the situation had aspired for it, or if this man had gone out of his way to piss him off, the bartender likely wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot him. As it were neither of those seemed to be anything necessary right now – an option that he would not forget, without a doubt, however this face too eerily similar to a tyrant that had tried to end so many lives down here seemed willing enough to comply. Information was more valuable than his immediate death for right now.
Once he had pulled the hood back over his head August let him go however, glancing away from him to nod towards one of his floor help, who headed back over to the bar to take his place behind it. It was only then, when he knew that his customers were still going to be covered if they were in need of a drink while he was gone, that he headed for the back of the establishment – still dividing his attention where he could keep an eye as to what the newcomer was doing. It was a wariness perhaps valid… he didn’t know this person, and they could indeed very well try to attack him while he was supposedly not paying attention and exposing his back.
“I was going to say you don’t even know… but if you’re not who you damn well look like you probably do more than I suspect.” The blond’s words were dry, tone no longer containing that bemusement from moments before. “Hyperion… heh. I’ve had to deal with them before and I know exactly what they’re like.” Granted that had been his own doing of course, and the disaster that had followed he… had more of a hand in than he wanted to consider. Whoops. “So who are you? Tell me exactly why I shouldn’t turn you in to people who’ll probably pay me nicely for your capture.” Not Hyperion – they were long dead and gone to all intents and purposes, but surely it probably looked exceedingly poorly on Sanctuary and that lot if someone who looked a pretty damn close dead ringer for Handsome Jack was running around nilly willy.
Crossing his arms one brow rose a bit, head canting slightly to the right with what lingered an air of consideration towards the man, as he leaned a little back against the wall. It was all a feign however – a farce, the tension that lingered within his body was like a loaded spring, ready to send him after the other man should he decide to foolishly try to turn and book it out of the bar.
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Post by Jack on Dec 23, 2017 13:40:41 GMT
When the immediate threat of being shot dead on the spot had passed, he relaxed, or came somewhat close, you learned quick to never fully relax on Pandora. He didn't meet the other man's eyes for a few moments, he'd never been all that great at making eye contact in the first place and it was even more difficult to parse your thoughts together when someone was staring you down waiting for answers that you may or may not have. And the worst part was not being able to verify his real identity should he want to confirm that, because for all intents and purposes, his actual name belonged to a dead man...On both fronts.
When they were behind the cover of the back room, he dropped the hood again while running a hand through his hair, letting out a heavy sigh as he contemplated where to even start with this story. He nodded his agreement to his words though, everyone knew exactly what Hyperion were like, "if I'd of known what I was getting into at the time, I wouldn't have agreed to it...But it got to the point to where my options were cooperate or we'll kill you...By the time I fully understood what they were doing with me..." He gave a tepid shrug, there had been no choice but to follow orders...He hadn't been entirely ready to eat a bullet at the time.
"For all effects and purposes, the man I was...Timothy Lawrence...Is dead." It felt so strange telling people his real name outloud, and he said it with a nervous darting of his eyes, like he half expected to be sniped from some hidden location even now. His own posture was fairly fearful, as it always was, far separated from the arrogance of the man who's face he shared, "I just wanted to take care of student loans, man...I didn't know I was getting myself wrapped up in all..." He paused and gestured a little desperately around him, "...This bullshit..." He couldn't really stop the guy from turning him in, but he'd rather he didn't, "it's not like getting rid of me would be any huge victory...Might as well start popping civilians if that's the route they wanna take." He scoffed a little, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Listen, I can't say anything that'll convince you one way or another not to turn me in, but I'm not Jack, I'm just some desperate sod they put under the knife to look like him." He couldn't help the way the words came out tired and fed up, his own posture much less spring loaded than the bartender's, "you can turn me in, or don't...I'm starting to run out of fucks to give one way or another..." A long sigh escaped him as he leaned against the wall, he was being honest, and he supposed if catching him and putting a bullet between his eyes meant some sick closure...Well at least he would have done one thing right in his miserable life.
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Post by Lloyd on Jan 18, 2018 11:34:49 GMT
Under most circumstances it probably would’ve persisted in being damn foolish for the other man to have even relaxed that much. However for the moment August still wasn’t riled up enough to genuine want to shoot the guy – he was a little annoying with all his cringing like a whipped dog, but there was likely exceedingly good reason for it. The lack of eye contact was a little suspicious… no, it was exceedingly suspicious, because there lingered that tinge of much hated dishonesty behind it, but he was allowing for it to slide for now.
Hyperion had singlehandedly caused so much chaos and destruction to the border planet – more than any other corporation could’ve even dreamed of attaining. Most people probably knew what they were like, whether or not they ever had to directly deal with them. “Talking in circles isn’t going to help yourself in any way, ya know.” That seemed a fair warning there seeing as the guy was rambling more than a little bit right now, though the words lacked any true ire more than some mild irritation.
That furtive look probably wouldn’t bring the man much. There definitely was no sniper standing there within that back corridor, no one aiming to take of his head – quite literally. Instead after about a way, closed rooms offshooting for storage and other supplies for the bar itself, it opened into a reasonable living area – some books and other supplies he needed for outside work away from here, some guns and weapons, and a very lazy loudly snoring slag skag snoozing on what probably was a refurbished dog bed. Honestly? Probably not the most threatening area in the existence of Pandora on the best of days.
While the dude talked August was watching him keenly, giving him the chance to clear the air of whatever misunderstanding could damn well end his life. Not only was he noting the words from where he was situated against the wall but he was watching the other’s body language well, noting any nuances that he was able to. This… wasn’t Jack. While he had never met the man outside of megalomaniacal holographic projections he’d definitely seen and heard enough of, and from, him to be able to note that – there lacked that supposed charismatic confidence the bastard had all but oozed, and he couldn’t be this good of an actor. Besides… the man was pretty confirmed to be dead. Very dead.
Hm…
“You’re definitely not Jack.” Resignation there, although not of the bad sort. “I’m guessing you’re some sort of what… a body double or somethin’, if they made you look that much like him? Paint a pretty target on your back, while he gets to ride high and dry outta trouble?” Fuck, he’d heard the dictator had damn well been paranoid but this was an altogether interesting level to see. Granted, probably not for the other man’s sake. “Timothy, was it? You do know there’s people you can go to get all that fixed up, right? Money talks.”
Scratching the side of his face for a moment he finally snorted audibly towards the sheer audacity of the situation’s entirety, shaking his head. “Guess it’s not my business what you do as long as you’re not causing any trouble for me, and whatever bounty’s on your head ain’t going to be enough to interest me any.. probably.” Of course August was going to look into it – he liked money after all, significantly so, but if it was chump change from what he generally otherwise gained there just was no point in wasting the time for it. Time was definitely money for him these days after all. “Don’t stir shit up in my bar, don’t shove needless trouble my way, and I’ll turn a blind eye. Got it?”
Maybe he just recognized the side effects of long term abuse when it was there. Granted he had reacted to his own far differently, having developed a rather nasty temper and a distinct inability when it came to ever easily trusting others, but hell… that wasn’t fair. Everyone dealt with things differently.
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