Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated
The Bone slums, not a place most would go. For an Ex Ranger that didn't care, it was home. Vash sat at a corner table of the bar, Beer bottles and shot glasses piling up as he leaned back in the booth. Darkness shielding him from what little dingy light there was within. Rubbing his face as he watched other patrons move around, some godawful music blaring from the jukebox on the other side of the room. He mused silently to himself. Oh how the mighty have fallen. Hell of a way for a jaeger pilot to end up right? It was all his fault of course, finally his antics had cost him everything. His jaeger, his brother, and his place within the jaeger program. He grumbled then thinking about it, cursing the kaiju that had ended his jaeger and his career, if he hadn't been show boating and been careless. His shoulder flared up then, the pain still ghosting within his nerves.The scars would never go away and his left arm would always be shot from where the kaiju had pulled the jaeger's arm from its socket. He grunted then and took a shot of whiskey to dull the pain before he flexed his fingers and wrist. Hoping that would help. It never did. A noise at the door then before he looked up. Who entered made Vash smirk to himself. He might be buzzed, but he wasn't that drunk he didn't know the big frame of Hannibal Chau. Rubbing his face with the back of a grimy hand, he silently wondered what the Kaiju Dealer was doing here.