How I Came To Own A Bar/Bounty Hunter Hub
As promised this time I’ll be weaving a tale of my childhood at it goes as such:
It all started on an annoyingly warm summer afternoon 8 years ago. Knight and I were heading to Oregon for his bi decadal Merc Meet. We arrived at a rather large bar/bounty hunter hub/motel where we met the other 20+ mercs and their apprentices. I didn’t really cared about the old guys, even if they were some of the top badasses of the world, except that asshole Cail, but nobody likes him.
Anyway, they were around my age, the oldest being Matthias Alirio, or as he likes to be called: Polarity. Nobody actually calls him that, he’s just Matt. As his self-given epitaph would suggest he has control over metal. And when I say control I mean ABSOLUTE control over metal. I could tell you more about that, but I’d be here all day.
Then there was Whisper, that’s not her actual name, just her nickname. She doesn’t have a name and for the last forever she has been trying to come up with something… Anyway, much like Matt has absolute control over metals, she has total control of the air around her… This is really fucking useful because she’s blinder than a bat. She uses the air as a 7th sense of sorts.
Most of the other guys aren’t particularly important to this story, but those two became like an older brother and little sister to me over the years. Anyway… No more rambling back to the story!
The thing is… The old guys go UBER drunk the first night of the meeting (it was supposed to last 3 days) and stole all the alcohol from the place before running off into the night and disappearing.
That might not seem so bad, right? A bunch of teenagers stuck in the middle of nowhere in a bar with no alcohol? Ok, that sounds horrible when I put it like that, but the problem is that they left us with the bill of all the damage, stolen goods and everything else.
Good news? We managed to convince the owners to let us gamble with our lives (as in becoming their property), but they didn’t know I can see the future. By the time the old guys returned, which was over a month later mind you, we owned the place, had expanded it and where running it like fucking bosses. We renamed the place, called it Home (As in the place where you count in hide-and-seek? We were 13-15 don’t judge us! We barely had childhoods!)
So, if you are ever in Oregon looking for a place to stay, a drink or a job head Home. Also, if anyone EVER tries to flirt with Whisper I WILL murder them.