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[nostalgiabomb]

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[saxual]

You see, I would, if I hadn't been so rudely interrupted.

[ Midvalley takes a step back, out of the guy's reach, because nobody touches the suit, okay? ]

Why don't you take it outside?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ The mountain of a man glares at the saxophonist. ]

Don't see how any'a' this is your business. Now stand aside.

[saxual]

[ The saxophonist regards the mountain of a man coolly in return. It's really not his business, he supposes, but visitors to this town are few and far between, and maybe, just maybe he'll find someone willing to get him off of this dustball. ]

It's not, but I'm not one to turn down an easy paycheck. That's you, isn't it?

[ and he jerks his thumb to the space behind the bar, where a cluster of wanted posters hang. Sure enough, Tiny Tim here is among them, and the price he has on him is pretty decent.

Something cold settles into the musician's gaze, as he draws a gun from his jacket in a quick, fluid motion. ]

Dead or alive, right? Let's see how "dead" treats you.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ At first, the man's only answer is to grin proudly at the posters in question, chest puffed up and arms crossed.

And when the musician pulls a gun on him, he laughs. Peter, meanwhile, is getting to his feet, shaking himself to loosen the splinters and glass from his person. He's going to have some seriously crazy bruises, and there's a shallow cut on his forehead that seriously stings, but things could be worse. ]

The hell, man? What'd I even do to you?

[ The man nods sharply to the men standing in the entrance, and those of them in clear view of him have guns trained on Midvalley. Peter glances over, eyes widening -- though his expression is more one of pleasant surprise than fear. ]

Oh, hey, it's you guys!

[ After that, the man ignores him -- which should be less annoying to Peter than it actually is (he wrinkles his nose at him) -- and favors Midvalley with his coldest stare. ]

You don't wanna fuck with me, I can tell you that.

[saxual]

[ Midvalley merely quirks a brow, ticks his aim downward, and fires a bullet right at the guy's kneecap.

But he assumes that as soon as that happens, shit is gonna go down thanks to all the guys in the doorway, and he moves quickly for cover. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He assumes correctly, because while the man howls in pain, his lackeys will be entering the bar properly, firing as they go. Peter, meanwhile, is mostly wondering, Whaaat the fuck is even happening right now, as he takes up his weapons, dispatching of two bandits with blasts of concussive flame before they can find cover.

The three remaining men hurry to their boss, pulling him behind the bar as they return fire, and Peter ducks behind cover in the form of one of the tables he'd overturned when he was tossed. Not the best cover -- certainly won't stop too many bullets, at least -- but it's better than being exposed.

Which puts him near the musician. And now it's Peter's turn to level a glare at him. ]

The fuck did you do that for?!

[saxual]

You must be new here.

[ It's the only answer Peter really gets as Midvalley stows his gun away, taking his saxophone in both hands. ]

You might wanna cover your ears.

[ At the first sign of gunfire, the bartender and the few patrons pretty much fucked off, so when Midvalley rises from his cover, saxophone to his lips, he doesn't bother with a lead up- also because if he does, he'll be riddled with bullets in about two seconds. He just hits that note that's more like a force of nature than music. Glasses shatter, furniture is overturned, and the men behind the bar die screaming as blood pours from their ears. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

Cover my what--

[ Oh, okay. Well, looks like we're not waiting to answer questions, are we, Midvalley? Rude. Clearly the guy isn't into the idea of clarification, so Peter lets his blasters drop to the ground and just-- does as he's told.

And it's a damn good thing he does, because when the note starts, he can still feel the way the air vibrates like a physical force, and-- how the fuck does it sting? Peter screws his eyes shut, waits for that buzzing to stop, and--

Even then, he waits at least five more seconds of ringing silence pass before he finally looks up, lets his hands drop. ]

What. The fuck.

[saxual]

[ Midvalley moves across the room, nudging one of the bodies with his foot. ]

I'm thinking I can kiss this gig goodbye.

Good job, by the way, hanging out in the exact place these assholes could find you.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter's peering around the cover to see the bodies.

Gross. It's like their brains burst out of their ears. But then the guy is talking to him, and--

r u d e ]

Uh, fuck you?

Last time I saw these dudes, they were crapping and pissing themselves into the sunset. Didn't think they'd have the balls to show their faces for at least another week.

[saxual]

Everybody around here has got a bigger, badder friend to hide behind. You can bet that if you ruin somebody's day, they'll be back with more firepower to ruin yours.

You're welcome, by the way.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter stands, brushing himself off. There's a little trickle of blood threatening to drip into his eye from his brow, and he rubs at it with the back of his hand. ]

Thanks. But I had it handled.

[saxual]

Really? 'Cause from where I was standing, you were getting thrown into some tables.

[ He picks his way to the space behind the bar, careful not to get any blood on his shoes, and plucks the wanted poster from the wall. He makes his way back to Peter in a similar fashion and offers him the poster. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

Well, yeah, it looked like that, but I had a plan in motion.

[ It possibly also involved getting thrown into walls.

He takes the poster from him, pausing to fix the guy with a suspicious look. ]

Why are you givin' this to me? You were the one who took 'em out.

[saxual]

Was I right when I said you weren't from around here? Because I'm lookin' to leave.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ His expression goes from suspicion to annoyance. ]

I'm not a taxi service, dude. I don't just shuttle people from place to place. 'Sides, ship's full enough as it is.

[saxual]

[ He gives a derisive snort ] You and everybody else.

Still, take the bounty. I'm not going anywhere near the sheriff after this.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter's mouth draws into a thin line as he glances past Midvalley to the carnage behind the bar. ]

What the hell did you do, anyway?

[saxual]

If you hit a human brain with just the right frequency, it won't last long.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Jesus. For a little while, Peter just gapes, then, ]

... What the crap, dude?

[saxual]

Not your style, I'm guessing.

[nostalgiabomb]

Making a dude's brain explode in his skull? Yeah, no. Definitely not for me.

Don't tell me I'm gonna find a wanted poster around here with your face on it, too.

[saxual]

Nah, you won't.

[ Mostly because everyone assumes he's already dead. Probably for the best, considering that a member of the Gung-Ho Guns would have been worth a pretty penny. ]

And even if you did, is that a bounty you're gonna want to try and collect?

[nostalgiabomb]

No, I'm just sayin' -- if you're a wanted man, you pretty much left your signature all over the damn place.

[ Christ. ]

--Look. I'll collect the bounty for you, if you don't wanna deal with the sheriff, but I'm not takin' it. 'Specially if you're expectin' me to take it as payment to fly you outta here.

[saxual]

Now there's a bit of kindness that's bound to get you stabbed in the back around here.

Just take it. I'm gonna get while the getting's good.