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As the door to The Counting Clock swung open, bright lights immediately blurred the eyes. Loud piano music could immediately be heard from one of the far corners of the saloon. A man sat playing the keys of the piano in a pair of worn out dark brown rustic boots, dark blue short sleeve shirt, and dark blue colored jeans with dirt splat on them that had clearly been dusted off to try and get them clean. “Can you just stop, Martyn!? There's no way in hell you're gonna be working with me!” A voice carried from the far left of the saloon. Once Scars head turned to look over he could see the voice belonged to a ginger person with her arms crossed and an irritated expression across their face. The man they were yelling at wasn't in view but with how intense the conversation was going he was probably in some deep shit.
The conversation fades out as Scar gets closer to the bar, a short brown haired man with a black eye and missing tooth is standing behind the bar making drinks. A taller man with nub-like horns coming out of his head behind him, cleaning glasses. Scar sits next to a woman in a red dress with feathers tracing around the seam of the bottom of the dress and a black coat draped over her shoulders. As Scar sits on the high top chair he raises his hand lightly but swiftly to get one of the bartenders' attention. “Bourbon” the word came out coarse almost non existent coming out of his throat after the long hot ride here on his horse, Puddin’.
Scar is sitting at the bar silently sipping his drink, ears tuning back into the once loud and strident tune that has mellowed down into something that would possibly be considered a ballad, he wasn’t too sure though. His eyes glance back towards the tallish fair skinned woman beside him. He gazes at her, noticing her short dirty blonde hair a mess atop her head, her round face a bit flushed from the scotch she had in her cup, and how her eyes have a little glimmer in them but over all convey not to get on her bad side. Scar catches himself gazing a bit too long and turns away to look in his cup as he debates striking a conversation with the woman.
The woman is sitting there on a bar stool a bit leaned over the bar with a cup of scotch, hand holding her head up as she debates on what to do with her night next. She perks her head up a bit as she notices Scar sat beside her and how he had been glancing at her. Having never seen the man before she speaks up a bit curious to know the new figure in town but doesn’t convey it much in her monotonous voice “Tough time on the roads?”. Scar pauses and looks fully towards the gallant woman before nodding softly and taking his hat off to sit beside him on the bar, “A bit, nothing I couldn't handle, miss”
Scar looks a bit taken aback as the woman's eyes trail him up and down almost sizing him up, he sits up a bit straighter hoping to impress the woman but he isn't really here to mess around. She speaks simply as her eyes go back up towards his face “Grian”
Scar cocks his head and speaks a bit confused, “Excuse me?”
“Grian, that's my name, cowboy,” She says amused as a small chuckle comes from her lips and a smidge of a smile lightly graces her face.
“Ah, sorry, I’m Scar,” he says bashfully, feeling a bit like an idiot for not knowing what she meant by saying her name. Though just having made a fool of himself he clears his throat a bit and puts on his signature charm. A smile that could win the heart of any woman spreads across his face, “Grian hm? a pretty name for a pretty woman, fits pretty well doesn’t it?” He glances at her in her dress which fits her perfectly before looking back up towards her soft rounded face.
Grian’s eyebrows raise and a small scoff leaves her lips’ “you thought that was smooth didn't you?” She leans her body up against the bar again looking at Scar almost tauntingly, daring him to keep up the casanova act. Scar's throat goes a bit dry but before hearing the door swing open and a tall lanky dirty blonde man came running in searching for someone.
“Grian! how's my favorite cou-?” He starts to speak as he comes over with his arms out in a hugging motion but is quickly cut off.
“What do you want Jimmy, cut to the chase” Grian snaps as she turns on the barstool to face her apparent relation, by the look on her face she couldn't be any less happy to see him. Scar goes back to his drink but listens in on the conversation not wanting to engage in conflict as he is trying to stay low profile as an outlaw not from these parts. “So uhm the Mayor stopped by and was looking for you, he said he wants-” Jimmy gets cut off, seems he can’t ever get out a full sentence. A tall man came through the door with an air of authority and with a clear cocky smirk on his face that you could hear in his graveling voice.
“Grian Solidarity! Just the woman I was searching for!”
Grian tenses and sighs as she puts on a bright, clearly faked, smile. Standing up from her barstool she turns and changes her demeanor to be kinder.
“Mayor Smajor! So wonderful seeing you here!” She speaks with a mock kindness that clearly has an underlying feeling of hatred in her words.
“What can I do for you Scott?” She says in a sycophantic way as she straightens up her posture and fixes her dress a bit as it had slid up a bit after sitting on the barstool for so long.
“I was wondering if we could have a little talk about that excess land your Pa gave you” Scott says with a smile trying to play down his real intentions of the conversation.
Jimmy sits where Grian was and like Scar, starts to listen in on the conversation without butting in. He was most likely going to get ignored like all the other times when this conversation was had. Mayor Scott tries convincing Grian every few weeks to let him have the land that was given to Grian by his father to which Grian keeps turning down the offer.
Jimmy turns and sees Scar, noticing that his cousin and the man were speaking to each other just before he got there. “You new here? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before” He speaks with a curious voice with an underlying tone of trying to figure out Scars intentions with his cousin.
“Yes sir, just got here maybe an hour ago” Scar replies with a bit of charm to his voice and continues as he perks up, looking towards the dirty blonde “Anything wrong with that?”
“Not at all, just wonderin’ is all” Jimmy says, a bit intimidated as the man in front of him was a bit bigger than him and didn't want to try to start an altercation of sorts.
All of a sudden a break in their conversation happens as Grian’s voice raises and the two men turn on the bar stools. They could see the woman angered and looked about ready to beat the tar out of the Mayor from pure annoyance.
“How many times do I have to tell you, Smajor! I am not selling or getting rid of my Pa’s land! you already took the damn ranch from my family!” Grian is glaring darts in Scott's head and he isn’t fazed by the anger Grian is showing.
“Oh come on, you aren't doing anything with the land anyway, sweetheart-” Scott says with that same condescending smile on his face as he looks at Grian, sickly sweet and goes to hold her arm. “It’ll go to a better cause than just sitting there-”
Scar stands up and rushes over to the two and pulls Scott's hand away from touching Grian “She already said she wasn't interested in selling the land, sir”. Scars eyes are unwavering and looked up at the older blue haired man like he was signalling him to back off if he didn’t want trouble.
Scott pulled his hand away and glared towards Scar before his eyes landed on Grian, eyes going colder than before “This isn't the last of this conversation, Solidarity”. Scott turns on his heels and walks out of the saloon, doors swinging shut behind him.
“I didn't need your help but thank you” Grian states with some gratitude in her voice as she turns her head up to look Scar in the face.
“No problem, miss Grian” Scar says softly and nods his head lightly, his signature smile on his face. He turns on his heels and grabs his hat from the bar counter as he leaves his tab money on the counter. “I reckon it's time for some hard earned rest now” Scar speaks softly, changing the tone in atmosphere compared to how it was just a few moments ago.
A few hours later once things calmed down, Grian and a few others left to head to their homes and Scar looked over towards the shorter bartender who was the one serving him drinks that night. “Is there an Inn anywhere around here, sir?” Scar speaks softly out of tiredness.
“You’re in it right now!” The shirt man smiles widely showcasing his missing front tooth. “Welcome to the counting clock! Wanna get a room set up?”
“Yes please, sir” Scar spoke tiredly and waited patiently at the bar, arms crossed on the counter with his head laid on top of them softly.
The Bartender scrambled to go find a room that was suitable to let someone stay in. He eventually came back and took Scar to his room where he immediately kicked off his boots, sat his hat to the side, and laid in the bed, sinking into the mattress comfortably and falling asleep.