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Snippet #2758932

located in The Galaxy, a part of The Last Humans, one of the many universes on RPG.

The Galaxy

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Riley Jaxon Character Portrait: Isaac Clarke Character Portrait: Grace Cooper Character Portrait: Summer Montgomery Character Portrait: Buckley Groves Character Portrait: Rosemary A. Wolf
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So many things were happening at once, it made Buckā€™s head spin.

Fortunately for him, he fed off the annoyance threading from the Paloovian in waves. It pulsed, spilled over. Tensed his shoulders even more, made his anger justified. It pooled from them like the glowing drink dripping off the creatureā€™s clawed foot. Maybe heā€™d got it wrong. Maybe they werenā€™t looking for a good time, and one of the girlā€™s screwed them out of money. Made more sense, the way they were going on. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Summer slithering past him, nearly bumping into his shoulder, before plopping down into Jaxā€™s lap.

She, at least, was fine. Drunk, but in one piece. Safe. Not knowing where the others were rankled his nerves, made him want to escalate the situation further. Push until this Paloovian pushed back. The thing huffed out yellow smog from its lips, which peeled back from pointed teeth. It seemed to look to its companions, clicking its tongue. He didnā€™t know what it was sayingā€”if it was saying anything at all. Couldnā€™t understand him. Not that heā€™d admit it, but he wished Wolf was here. Then, she could tell them to fuck off properly. It usually worked. For whatever reason, alienā€™s didnā€™t respond well to their spoken language. Probably thought it was an affront to their damned race.

Another muscle jumped along his jawline as the Paloovianā€™s claw sunk deeper into his collarbone, forcing him a step backwards. Pricking uncomfortably into his skin. They were bigger than him. Seemed as if most aliens towered over them, unfortunately. It made it harder to stand toe-to-toe with them, though it didnā€™t really stop him from trying. Heā€™d earned more broken bones than he could count from picking fights with them; humans were fragile, in comparison. It pissed him off.

A familiar face bobbed into his peripherals. Fiery hair bobbing past. Grace seemed to be picking her way carefully across the bar in a way that he recognized immediately. He tore his gaze away from the Paloovianā€™s ugly face, and watched as she plopped down at the table Jax and Summer inhabited. All trouble. It oozed from her; that caution heā€™d become so attuned to. Though he wasnā€™t sure of the specifics, he could guess pretty damn well what had happened. Didnā€™t mean heā€™d step down and apologize. ā€œThere ainā€™t no girl youā€™re looking for hereā€”ā€

A tugging at the hem of his shirt distracted him enough to drop his hand from the hilt of the pistol, tucked safely into the hostler strapped to his back. He dropped his gaze and spotted Wolf there, sprawled at his feet. His mouth worked for a question and snapped shut, eyebrows jamming together. Where the hell did she even come from? A huff of breath hissed past his lips as he looked in the direction sheā€™d crawled from, ears straining for sounds. Two more aliens, furred bastards, heatedly pointing towards Wolf. Abandoning his pistol, Buck pushed the Paloovianā€™s hand away and took a step backwards, creating some distance, and for whatever reason, the alien seemed inclined to let him. He leaned off to the side, and grabbed onto Wolfā€™s forearm, hauling her back to her feet, but maintained his grip on her arm.

To keep her steady. To keep her from running off. To keep himself anchored. He wasnā€™t sure anymore, but the room span and everything seemed too damn loud in his ears. Too full.

Whatever calm heā€™d amassed in himself dissolved as soon as Jax pushed himself between them, unsuccessfully. He was two seconds away from telling him to step off. But, once the Paloovianā€™s clawed, meaty hand wrapped itself around his neck and pulled him off he ground, Buck reacted instinctively. He couldnā€™t think around the pounding in his head. He released his grip on Wolf and immediately freed his pistol from his back, jamming it underneath the alienā€™s face, nestled under its ridged chin. A furious breath puffed out. ā€œLet him go or Iā€™ll blow your brains out.ā€ He pressed the muzzle of the pistol harder, insistent, desperate, ā€œUnderstand that?ā€

There was a clattering of noise in the background. Then, silence. Uncomfortable, heavy. Curious eyes already turning to stare at them.

Humans, making trouble again.