Butch's Story

Butch entered the bar using the back door, after throwing his sigar onto the ground outside the building, using his feet to shovel it into the ground. With a tilted head, he watched what was going on in the bar. A fight, well, that was... Expected. Butch had heard about the bar, though this was the first time he visited. Something had been blocking the front door, but he was glad the back door seemed to work.

Butch had entered enough building by the backdoor to not feel like a burglar anymore. Okay, so most of the time he had been wearing a security suit or some sort of pass, but if they didn't want him entering by the back door, they should open the front door!

Butch wasn't going to just watch, he wanted to know what was going on. Taking a few large steps, Butch moved towards the arguing people, raising a brow as he crossed his arms. "So, details aside, what happened?" he asked, a stern look on his face. Butch didn't really expect them to necessarily answer his question, but he thought he should give it a try. Words before actions, or something, he had been told when he had stopped fighting for his profession.

The fact that he was unarmed, and most patrons had a weapon on their person didn't seem to bug Butch.

Butch entered Gambit's bar, raising a brow at all the soldiers. Was there something going on? He glanced around. No fights, no criminals. That'd mean the soldiers had a day off. Butch had a day off as well, as a matter of fact, he had the whole week off, and the week after that. In other words, he didn't have a job. But he was working on that.

Until then, he just had to watch his expenditures more closely. Luckily Butch didn't need much, he had a microwave in his room and he wasn't picky when it came to food. He made his way to the counter, sitting down on one of the barstools without ordering something. Maybe later, but probably not.

Butch eyed the ongoing in the bar with only some interest, trying to convince his stomach that he wasn't hungry. And he definitely hadn't heard his stomach's grumble just now. Butch didn't think anyone else had heard it either. He sighed. It was impossible, even though he could deny being hungry, he had to eat sooner or later. Or else he'd die, and he really didn't look forward to dying.

Maybe he could find something cheap on the menu. Butch turned around, scrolling through all the options on the touch-screen menu. Something on this menu had to be low-priced, yet stomach-filling, right?

Butch didn't really notice it when he got looked at, still scrolling through the options on the screen. He had gotten used to getting stared at, people wondering what had gone wrong with him. Surely he had to have fallen on his head as a baby or something. But in all honesty, Butch was a drephel, more commonly known as boarmen. Butch couldn't help that he and his relatives looked more like pigs than boars, it had something to do with ethnicity, Butch had been told.

After a while, Butch found something that sounded cheap and filling on the menu. All you can eat spareribs. Sure, it seemed quite expensive for humans, but Butch could eat a lot more than a human, especially after a few days of eating less than was healthy for him.

Butch heard the distinctive sounds of a fight, curiosity peeking. He had to check this out. Butch quickly found his way to Gambit's, his lumbering form easily moving through the crowds on the street. Not hesitating to open the door, Butch slipped in. Swiftly he glanced around, trying to figure out what had happened while he wasn't there. Quite a bunch, he soon realised.