"alt!"
Send ALT! to meet another of my muses… | not accepting.
∞❲The fallen warrior sits alone in the corner of the bar– as is befitting. No man with such a high bounty on his head would be so bold nor ignorant to sit in the center of the room, where anyone might notice him and see fit to test his brittle temper.
The man that was once Samurai Jack raises his head from his arms upon your approach, though both his eyes are closed for the moment as he reaches forth with one hand, grips the cup of hot tea which steamed lustily on the counter in front of him and slowly brings it to his lips for a drink. Though he undoubtedly senses you standing there, he still doesn’t deign to open his eyes and look at you– at least… not yet.
He breathed in deep the calming scent of his tea, still so familiar and soothing after all these years, and after a moment’s pause longer when you do not leave him alone, he finally looks up at you.
Though the eye that has the scars over it cannot open, the eye that does is cold… Wary… Jaded… His was the eye of a jungle cat that had been imprisoned for so long it cannot remember what the feel of real grass is beneath its paws– a cat that couldn’t remember what the sensation of bone breaking beneath its teeth feels like.
–But a cat that was no less deadly and DANGEROUS for all its years behind its inch-thick prison of glass…
❝Can I help you?❞ he asked softly, his voice coming out hoarse and almost rasping with disuse. It was obvious from the concentration in his expression– the set in his brow– that he was doing everything in his power to keep rudeness out of his voice, even now after he’d fallen so far from grace.
When you do not answer him, he sighs heavily– apparently quite used to this little game– and one hand reaches beneath the table for the plasma pistol he always kept holstered at his side. ❝ If you’ve come here seeking a fight, I ask that you at least allow me to finish my tea…❞❳