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The town of Daemon Hollow is mostly quiet during the evening hours when the inhabitants settle in their homes for the night. Viperfang Saloon is almost always the exception now though. The building barely keeps in the shouts and hollers of the rambunctious patrons inside. It's no longer a surprise to those that live there, especially on nights when the star of the saloon is on stage. Rouge's performances regularly draw crowds of drunken bachelors looking to try and bed the talented bat since her arrival nearly six months ago. Her voice pulls them in while her swaying hips keep them entranced, compelling them to continue spending money on drinks and food as they ogle her form. One regular visiting patron watches on from a table further from the stage, large nicced ears perked and focused on her song as he nurses a single bottle of cheap beer. The vagabond of the town makes it a habit to see every performance she offers, having done so ever since he first happened to catch her warming up for one shortly after being employed in the saloon. He always chooses to admire her from a distance, keeping to himself and away from the more rowdy males that leer at her.
"Bunch of fools. Can’t admire shit if yer already drunk."
Despite the harsh thought, the ragged jackal is no stranger to drinking himself; spending most of his days in a stupor brought on by far too many beverages. He isn’t particularly liked by the sheriff or some of the more decent townsfolk, but he is tolerated for the rare occasions he makes himself useful. Even with the unhealthy dependence, he still makes an effort to see Rouge perform while sober, only ordering a beer or two to keep the headaches at bay. Tonight shouldn’t be any different either. He plans to watch and listen quietly as he always does. And when the show is over, he’ll drag himself back out to the small campsite he lives at just outside of the town to drink the remainder of what he has and sleep. Come morning, he’ll visit the saloon and drink as he chats with Rouge about the performance the night before. It’s not really a healthy routine by any means, but it’s what gets him through the days. A routine that starts unravelling the moment another body attempts to get him to leave from his table. “Hey, I need that seat. I ain’t got a place to sit.” The jackal turns his head to focus his amber eye on the other male, a snort of annoyance escaping him when he recognizes the other from earlier in the day. An upstart travelling through town and making sure that everyone knew of his presence with his obnoxious and flashy attitude. Even the sheriff had taken a quick dislike to him. “Find another seat.” he answers curtly before turning back to watch the stage. The other patron lingers nearby, muttering under his breath before placing his palms onto the table and leaning closer. “I said I need that seat. Are ya deaf and blind?” With his patience quickly wearing thin, Finnian turns back to him with a growl. “Get lost before I crack this ‘ere table with yer face.”
"Pushy bastard."
“What? Afraid I’ll make a move on yer woman? She probably doesn't even notice your scruffy ass. You can try and have her after me though.” The other man's tasteless remark makes him even more unlikable and it shows as the canid's lips twitch up to bare teeth. The two men glare at each other, the seconds stretching on before the traveler suddenly reaches over and knocks the beer bottle's contents onto the jackal. Patience finally lost, Finnian jumps up from his seat and towards the source of his annoyance with a snarl, Rouge’s show completely forgotten as he focuses on teaching the stranger a lesson in manners. “Get off me, fuckin’ drunkard!” The upstart swings a fist at his attacker, smirking when it connects against his head and leaves him momentarily disoriented. “Go back outside where ya belong. Ya clearly ain’t got the mind or money to be in here.” He tries to grab Finnian but is taken off guard when he recovers and raises a knee into his stomach. It gives the canid a chance to grab the winded man and slam his face down into the table with enough force to break his nose with a sickening crack. The male shouts and hollers in pain as he holds a hand to his injured and bleeding face, cursing and threatening to end the jackal’s life while his other hand fumbles for the gun in his holster. “My humblest apologies, sir. 'Ere, have yer fuckin' seat.” Finnian grabs the chair he was seated on just moments ago before lifting it and swinging the piece of furniture downward on his offender, a grin on his muzzle when it breaks over his head and back.
“Damn it, Finnian! Get out, right now!”
The jackal stops himself from aiming a kick at the stranger groaning on the floor to see that all the eyes of the saloon are on him. Including Rouge, who’s performance had halted the moment the fight had started, and the bar owner that was now glaring daggers his way. “I ain’t done shit but defend myself.” he argues with the chameleon, though it does little to settle the tension in the air between them. “I said out! You’re barred!” Finnian’s fur bristles as his sobriety adds to his temper. “That's a bullshit call an' ya know it!” Further argument from him ceases when he sees Rouge quickly approaching him, her heels clicking loudly on the wooden floor of the silent building. She’s clearly upset, and before he can utter a word to her, one of his ears is snagged and yanked hard enough to keep him still and compliant. “Get out, now. Or would you rather have Shadow come deal with you instead?" Her warning is low in tone, yet somehow more threatening than the bar owner’s. “...‘Course, blame the town drunkard..." he responds but complies, fixing his shirt a moment before throwing the barely conscious traveler a final sneer and stepping out of the saloon to head back to his camp.
Sitting by a small fire for warmth and light, he rubs at the bruise on his head and groans over his punishment. He supposes it couldn’t be avoided though. The commotion most likely cost the saloon money, even if he didn't count the broken furniture, and his bad temperament was very well known in town; especially when he was sober. It was only a matter of time before it all got him into trouble once more. “Again, Scarborough?” The jackal barely turns an ear to the familiar and irate voice of the sheriff. He doesn’t doubt that the hedgehog has come to question and possibly haul him into a jail cell for attacking another patron; even if the other man had deserved it. “Ya must like causin’ me trouble. I got real work t’do instead of haulin’ your scrawny ass 'round.” Finnian can barely make out his features as he stands along his right side, his blue eye nearly completely blinded by an injury years ago. It’s also a habit the black hedgehog seems to enjoy as it forces the jackal to turn his head to see him clearly through his other eye. The canid is in no mood to play along though and instead stares at the small fire burning in front of him. “Mouthy bastard deserved it...Not like ya cared for him either.” The sheriff huffs and grabs his shoulder, forcing him to turn with a low growl. "That ain't a vagabond's call t'make." Finnian growls in return, having little respect for the man or his tendency to pick at him. "I suppose vagabonds ain't got the right to defend themselves either then?" When the sheriff doesn't respond, he takes the opportunity to continue. "Ya would've rather he shot me? Is that it? How noble of ya, sheriff. All of Daemon Hollow sleeps better at night knowin' yer lookin' out for -" his words are cut off when he's shoved, nearly losing his balance as Shadow now stands in front of him. "He would've done me a favor. Would've done the whole town one. I protect the townsfolk from trouble like yer kind." The jackal's ears begin to droop slightly, both angered and distressed by the words aimed at him. "I tolerate ya, but ya ain't a member of this town." Finnian's eyes narrow at the man but he keeps silent, even as he turns to leave the camp. "Get yer shit together, Scarborough. Or I'll have a permanent cell set up just for ya."
The fire is nothing more than glowing embers by the time he decides to call it a night and lay down for a nap. The sheriff's words replay in his mind countless times, frustrating the jackal more and more, yet he can't find a defense against them. The man's words are hurtful, but true. The former bounty hunter found it difficult to integrate into the town properly. His excessive drinking made him useless at even the easiest of tasks, and being sober left him temperamental as his mind was free to wander back to thoughts that the alcohol helped drown out. Inebriation left him numb but isolated, while sobriety left him pained and bitter. There was no middle ground for him. Not anymore.
"I'm almost glad y'all can't see me like this…"
Morning comes too soon for the canid and his head pounds fiercely as he sits up. "Damn...didn't get my extra bottle last night." He groans before forcing himself to stand, remembering that his outburst left him without access to the saloon. With his routine disturbed and his headache growing with each passing minute, he questions if he should even bother entering the town so soon after the fight. The sheriff would most likely be keeping an eye out for him and the townsfolk would probably be on edge around him. The more he thought, the less it seemed worth the risk or trouble. Still, he couldn't stop the nagging at the back of his mind.
"It's just the right thing to do..."
Decision made, he heads into town but keeps his hat and gaze low to avoid looking at any of the other patrons that were witness to his behavior the night before. Only when he approaches the saloon does he dare to look around before knocking on its doors. The sound of movement makes his ears perk up but they immediately droop back down when it's the owner that comes to look. "I said you were barred. You ain't getting drinks from here." Viper stares hard at the jackal, committed to following through with his punishment for the disruption he caused. "I know... I came by to apologize for the ruckus. I didn't mean to cause -" "Apologies don't pay anything, Finnian. I lost business last night because of your antics; angry customers and a broken chair. Go find somewhere else to get drunk." The jackal stares at the chameleon, though he doesn't back down. "Viper, I know it looks bad, but I swear I didn't start it." He awaits some sort of response from the other male before Rouge peers outside and addresses him simply. "Finnian." The canid nods in her direction, ears low in case she makes a grab for one again. "Ma'am." The chameleon steps back inside when the performer gestures to him, leaving Finnian outside on the steps. Some muttering comes from inside but it's too low and muffled for even his large ears to pick up clearly.
"Scarborough. What the hell did I tell ya last night?"
The jackal's ears flatten to his head and he fights to keep his lips from pulling into a snarl as he turns to see Shadow approaching. "I ain't done shit." There's a clear scowl on the hedgehog's face as he approaches closer. "Looks like yer tryin' to get drunk again. Viper told me he barred ya last night, but here ya are trespassin' now." The jackal's fur bristles with agitation from both the sheriff's continued badgering and his pounding headache. "I ain't stupid enough to try an' get in without their permission. Why don't ya focus on catchin' a real criminal for once?" The hedgehog grabs his shirt and yanks him closer, unamused and in no mood to entertain the jackal's attitude. "Ya think I ain't lookin' at one right now?" A growl rumbles in Finnian's throat as he fights down the urge to take a swing at the sheriff at least once. "Then why haven't ya done anythin' about me? Oh, that's right. Yer waitin' for someone else to do it for ya. Don't wanna dirty yer own hands and reputation, eh?" Shadow looks about ready to take a swing himself when Viper and Rouge come back outside. He releases his hold on Finnian's shirt and turns his attention to them out of respect, leaving the jackal to quietly fume. "Ma'am. Sir. Do ya need me to remove him from yer steps?" The chameleon rubs at his forehead but says nothing as Rouge offers a smile and approaches Finnian. "No sir, he ain't causin' us any trouble at the moment. He came by to apologize and make things right, didn't you, Fin?" The jackal nods, though he isn't sure if the hedgehog cares for the truth or not at this point. Shadow seems to study the three of them quietly, red irises narrowed and focused on the jackal a moment longer before turning to leave with a wave and warning. "Keep out of trouble."
"Try not to mind him. He's just looking out for us."
Rouge's voice pulls his attention back to her, though he's still clearly agitated from the encounter. "Yeah...His townsfolk." The bat offers him a softer smile before addressing Viper. "Well? Wanna tell him or should I?" Before Finnian can question either of them, the chameleon huffs and crosses his arms over his chest with a stern look directed his way. "I spoke with Rouge about the other patron you attacked and your barring. I am willing to remove it, but only under two conditions. One, you lose all your credits. No more from now on. Anything you drink will have to be paid upfront. And two, you replace the chair you broke over that bastard's head. Am I clear, Fin?"
"A chance to make things right... "
The jackal's tail sways slowly, almost hesitant to show his gratitude. He hadn't expected much when he came to apologize, only that it was the proper thing to do after interrupting their business. "Losin' the credits hurts, but I accept the consequences. The chair might take time to replace though...I hope ya don't mind waitin' a bit on it." He gets an amused snort from the saloon owner. "Yeah, yeah. Just make sure it's an actual chair and not some rock you find outside."
It takes nearly a month for Finnian to save up enough money to buy supplies and make a new chair to replace the one he broke. Having spent years taking odd jobs, including some woodworking, he uses the knowledge he gained to slowly shape and build the replacement. It's a struggle to focus at times when his head pounds from the lack of his usual alcohol intake, relying on other drunken townsfolk to spare some of theirs or forget their bottles outside completely. The full function of only one of his eyes also slows progress as he's forced to recheck measurements multiple times. By the time he finishes, the new chair is unrefined but still functional as a seat. He spends the last night smoothing out sharp edges so they don't dig into patrons that happen to sit on it. In the morning, he carries the new furniture over to the saloon so that the owner can take a look at it.
Leaned against the building's wall is the sheriff, who watches the canid warily as he slowly approaches. He's barely been seen in town the last few weeks, and while a part of him had hoped it meant he left for good, another part was genuinely curious to what he was doing all this time. "Ya made some replacement furniture just to get back in and drink yerself on t'the floor? That's some dedication…" Finnian fluffs his fur in indignation but minds his manners for the sake of civility. "I ain't got money to drink. Spent it all to get this done and fix a wrong." he replies as he sets the new chair down by the saloon doors. Shadow snorts and leaves the wall to inspect the new piece of furniture, even applying a firm hand to it to see if the legs remain even and still. "It's safe to sit on. If it can hold my drunkard ass up, it'll hold steady in the saloon." Looking over at the irritated canid, he finally takes note of the condition he's in. His pelt looks rougher than usual and nearly all his fingers are wrapped in makeshift bandages, most likely from stray splinters. He's definitely sober, with his temperament being a dead give away, though he does seem a bit subdued; the dark rings under his eyes are a telltale sign of his lack of sleep. He doesn't reply to the jackal, instead taking a step back from the chair when the Viperfang Saloon's owner steps out. "Good morning, Sheriff. Fin." The new chair is given a quick look over, even tested when he sits into it himself. "Well, it isn't the best looking, but it'll serve its purpose. Mind bringing it in and setting it down where it belongs?" The door is held open so Finnian can bring the promised furniture in, holding his end of their agreement to lift the ban from him. "I'm surprised that scruffy bastard followed through." Shadow states as he peers inside to see that Finnian is already seated at the bar and chatting with Rouge. "He's a driven man, much like yourself." The hedgehog tsks and returns to leaning against the wall once more. "I ain't driven to drink myself into an early grave." He receives a narrowed gaze from the business owner. "No, but you do seem driven to help him into one." Red irises lock to golden, daring him to continue. "He's mostly harmless. Even you have to realize that by now." Viper doesn't wait for a response before returning inside to finish counting his inventory, leaving the sheriff to his thoughts about the vagabond and the impact he still manages to have on some of the townsfolk.
Inside the saloon, the mood is much lighter. The jackal's tail wags slowly as he talks with Rouge, again apologizing for the trouble caused. "Just don't do it again, you hear me? I can take care of myself." Finnian offers a small huff in return. "I can't promise that. What if-" The sound of a glass being forcefully placed on the bar top silences him. "You damn well better, Finnian. I didn't lift the ban so you could get into more fights. Don't make me regret my decision." The chameleon sighs but softens his tone a bit. "I know you meant well, and you have every right to defend yourself, but please be mindful of my business. Alright?" He snorts but nods his head. "Understood…" Rouge taps a nail against the bar top to get his attention back, a small, but sweet smile aimed at him. "So, the usual morning drink?" The former bounty hunter shakes his head as he stands from the bar stool. "No money, or credits. Besides, I got a small job up at D'Coollete's that I best be gettin' to before she thinks I forgot." The bat's smile morphs into a little smirk before giving him a playful wink. "I'm lookin' forward to seeing you back here for the shows." A grin is offered in return to her. "Don't ya worry. I'll be back 'ere before ya can miss me too much."
With a small wave and quiet thanks, Finnian exits the saloon but stops in his tracks when the sheriff calls for his attention. Assuming it's to badger him once more, the jackal's fur bristles as he turns to face the hedgehog. "If it ain't important, I gotta go. Ms. D'Coollete is waitin' on me." Shadow tips his hat up a bit to get a better look at him. "Do what ya gotta do. Just don't give her or the new kitten any trouble." His fur flattens back down, but his frustration is still clear in his voice. "I know ya don't see me as one of the townsfolk, ' an maybe ya never will, but I don't mean anyone 'ere any harm. Daemon Hollow is my home, whether ya believe so or not." The sheriff only stares before dismissing him with a tsk. He wastes little time in putting distance between him and the hedgehog when he turns and leaves for the widow's mansion. The ragged jackal is keen on following through with the promises he's made and to try earning his keep within the town that puts so little faith in him.