Angel gave a slight shrug. "Pretty sure you don't want my help, but yeah, sure." He tapped his fingers against his left leg, trying to alleviate the strange way the muscles were tight. They always were, from the burns he had sustained when he was younger.
"I'll take any help." He gestured over to the table. "Take anything you think you might need if a gunfight erupts. I'll give you a large discount if you would want to keep it, too."
He shook his head. "I've got a gun." He replied, gesturing to the holster at his right hip. "But thanks." His green eyes flicked around the room, looking over everyone there, then returned to the other male.
"Then," El'eye said, returning to his former position on in his seat, "We wait."
It took barely 15 minutes for the Mandarin to come back, this time with four others wearing similar body armor. Must be the same clan," El'eye thought, studying the group as they approached.
"Told ya I'd be back," bald head said, his blaster already out.
Angel sat down near him, and finished up his drink and paid the bartender before the Mandalorians came back. He had a hand resting on his gun carefully, humming quietly as he waited. When the Mandalorians arrived, he sat up, going silent.
(Been spelling it wrong the whole time, imao, it's mandalorian)
"Yes, you did. And I'll tell you the same thing." EL'eye stood up. "I didn't sell you a bad gun, It was your fault."
Baldy turned to Angel. "You should go, before we kill you, too."
(yeahh lol)
Angel laughed softly. "Takes a lot more than some scum to kill me, thanks." He replied, standing. He put a lot of his weight on his right leg, looking at the Mandalorians expressionlessly.
(I''m happy you knew we weren't talking about a bunch of Chinese people)
"Seems we have a brave one here," Baldy said, turning back to his friends for a moment.
This time, El'eye shoved the vibroblade as deep into the man's neck as he could, yanking it out at a sideways direction to cause as most damage possible. Blood sprayed everywhere as El'eye kicked the body to the ground and drew his pistol.
"Just evening up the odds a bit," he said to Angel casually. "Plus, he was annoying me."
(lol me too)
Angel nodded, not seeming very bothered by all the blood. "I see." He pulled out his blaster, letting out a sigh. He would fight as needed, but didn't want to be caught unawares.
"You motherfu-" the other ones shouted, beginning to draw their blasters.
El'eye's trigger finger was faster, however, shooting one in the chest before he could even get the gun out.
(i probably gtg soon, just warning you)
Angel shot the next one. The people in the bar shouted and scattered, most running out the door to escape the firefight they knew was coming. The bartender frowned, and shut down the counter.
The final two, seeing the disadvantage they were at, dropped their blasters and put their hands up as they backed out of the bar. El'eye put his gun back into the holster and fished into his pocket, pulling out a small leather bag full of coins.
"For your service," he said, offing the bag to ANgel.
Angel shook his head. "Keep it. I fired off one shot and mouthed off to one guy. Isn't really worth being paid." He chuckled softly. "Really."
"The intimidation factor was worth more than anything else." He kept the bag out, shaking it slightly.
Angel sighed. "I'm…not that intimidating, am I?" The tall male cocked an eyebrow, but took the bag, putting it in his pocket.
"Being tall goes a long way," he explained, pulling his hand back and setting his blaster on the table. "It is a skill that's eluded me since birth."
He sheathed his own blaster, and nodded. "Oh." He chuckled softly. "Sometimes I wish I were shorter, to be honest. My height makes me easier to pick out in a crowd. Which has never been a good thing." Soemthing flashed in his eyes, then was gone.
"WHatever you say, friend." He produced a bag from under the table and began shoving the weapons into it haphazardly. He didn't seem concerned in the least bit.
Angel shrugged slightly, tapping his fingers against his left leg again. It was both a nervous habit and a way to try and soothe the stressed, overworked nerves and muscles in that leg. He wasn't supposed to use it as much as he did; he was supposed to use a cane or something. But he didn't.
(bump?)
(My b)
"Speaking of intimidation," He said, throwing the bag over his shoulder and turning to Angel, "How would you like another job?"
(tis fine)
Angel tipped his head slightly. "Well. Sounds good." he replied. "Depending on what it is." he added after a moment. Perhaps not the best idea to just randomly follow him wherever.
"I'm dealing weapons to a particular sector of the galaxy that isn't on the right side of the law. Call themselves the Rebel Alliance, I believe. Dreadfully dull name, but they pay a good bit of money. But…..not as of late. THey're attitude has degraded terribly concerning my prices, and I'd just like to have someone to back me up once/if plasma starts flying."
He gestured to the dead bodies. "You've already proven yourself as a smooth operator, and I'm on a tight schedule."
Angel thought for a moment. "Alright." He replied. "I'll accept, under a few conditions. One, I'm not sharing my bed with anyone, unless it's an emergency. And it better be a damned good emergency, too. There are reasons for this that I will not be discussing now, and most likely not later either. Two, if I need to leave the room or building because of something, I don't want to have to explain exactly why every time, which leads to the third. No asking personal questions, unless I am volunteering the information already. Alright?"
"Everything sounds perfectly professional. Is that all?" He looked down at his wristwatch. "'Cause as I said, I'm on a schedule."