#ironic that it's one of my favourite outfits for him but the bar code is just so funny to me

[that-one-scoundrel]

I find it so funny that Caleb's lounge wear has these bar codes on them as its designs like bro, you tryna get sold or what? TT TT return those shirts back where you got them, my boy TT TT

[ahrtwueinians]

A Gentleman’s Task by Iiefregro WIP

“Hello? Charles, can you hear me?” Ask a cold toned Thyriir through a tiny earpiece on Charles’ ear

“Perfectly. Would you mind running me through this little tasks one more for clarity”

“Sure thing. Our... ‘assosiates’ at the Cartel have asked for our assistance in elimination a mole who threatens to reveal their hiding and have offered very reasonable compensation in return”

“That is not all though is it my dear Thyriir?” Charles inquisitively asks.

“Well, the special ammunition you’re testing, one of the types is a tracer round, locating the whereabouts of the Cartel could be very advantageous to our group.”

“I shall see what I can do” Charles replies.

The beating, hot desert sun begins to fall as Charles makes his way through the suburbs district of Tmyrthiil City to the works district, strolling while spinning his favoured right revolver. The pistol was regularly sized for such a weapon, however, Charles is a man of class, the gun was far more flashy. The body of the weapon appears to be gold plated, with silver coating the grip and encrusted with only the finest of jewels (rubies and sapphires to be specific) in places of screws. Of course, the weapon was in a pristine state, even the chambers. One of Charles’ favourite pastime was to maintain his weapons pristine state. He was dressed head to toe in a very formal attire, his usual outfit. Shinning black shoes with a long straight, black pair of trousers with a golden chain attached to a pocket watch protruding out of his right pocket while brown leather gloves in the left. He boasts a brown leather belt with a golden buckle boasting a very expensive and shiny looking rare white artist crystal as the centrepiece. A plain white shirt with black tie lay under a brown vest, buttoned with a long trailing coat, splitting into two long triangular points at the end, finishing just above the joints of his knees, many buttons ran down the coat. Despite the many fights his clothes have endured they never become rugged or the slightest bit rough, not a single tear or stain in sight, Charles is a man of class after all and a cultured man should look the part. A neutral blonde (slightly brown in nature) moustache grazed his upper lip, spanning across his nose until sloping to a point with a flat bottom. A slick back haircut leaving an open forehead pushed back behind his ears, with length only coming to about the bottom of his ears and beginning of his neck. Atop his head rests a medium length top hat; a bright red, white and yellow feather tucked neatly within the lace. But Charles’ most defining feature was his trademark monocle on his left eye of his rich blue pair. A bronze frame holding a slightly cracked glass, much tougher than it appears, hell could rise and when the forces consume the earth the miracle would appear untouched.

A few hours had past and Charles had wondered about the borderline between the suburbs and the works, needless to say, he was out of place in such a rough area. A lot of eager eyes were trained on a man of Charles’ apparel. All predatory eyes quickly averted their gaze however when the woman Charles was supposed to meet showed up, they might not be the force they once were since Alister and Co. showed up but they’re still respected and fear in the criminal underground.

“Eyy err... You with the spiffy spectacle, you the one here to help with my little, er... mole infestation?” She asks

“Yes, I am ms. Charles, gentleman gunslinger at your service” Charles says, taking a small bow.

The woman had a very raspy and nasal, speaking almost through their teeth and very acute on pronouncing the letter ‘s’. They were quite tall standing at 5′11″ to Charles’ 6′3″, he was the second tallest in the group before Alister joined after all. The woman was also quite tanned of skin with large brown eyes and ponytailed black hair down to their shoulder. They had a rough appearance, baby eyes and a few small facial scars, not at all intimidated by Charles’ presence. They sported a simple long pair of blue jeans with large black boots and a brown scabbard holstering a large blade. They had a plain white vest covered by an open red and dirty yellow floral style aloha shirt. A large golden watch also grazed their wrist, something the Renegade quickly picked up on.

“Ah, I see you too are a woman of culture!” He comments with a large smile and chipper tone.

The Cartel information simple stares in confusion.

“Your timepiece my dear, a grand display of a fine taste!”

It’s unknown what puzzled the informant more, the comment on her watch or him being oblivious to the large automatic rifle slung over her shoulder with a thin piece of string. In his defence, it would be expected in such an area.

“A-yeeerr, yea. Anyway, follow me” She motions him over to one of the many dark and narrow alleys that litter Tmyrthiil City.

They get about eight or so metres in, with light becoming very dim before Charles questions...

“This is rather over-dramatic don’t you think?” He asks, looking at his surroundings.

“How can I trust you, how do I know you’re who you say you are!?” The informant demands, pushing Charles towards a wall and aiming her weapon at him after slinging it around her waist.

“My dear, I hardly resemble any gangster and besides... If my intention was to kill you then you simply wouldn’t be breathing right now”

“How so?” She asks, aggressively shoving her weapon in his face.

“Well to start, the safety is still on your rifle” Her eyes widen and she reaches to pull out her knife to put to Charles’ throat only to come up empty.

“And I have already disarmed you” Charles smirks, wielding her large knife.

“H-how!?” She demands, now with safety off.

“Thievery is not a part of the gentleman’s code, however, sleight of hand is integral” He informs, strolling further into the darkness.

“That doesn’t help your case much gunslinger” She aims her weapon at the dark.

“You’re correct, however, this might” Charles adds, lighting a match to provide light and presenting his earpiece.

“Miss García?” Thyriir asks from the earpiece. She seems to recognise his voice.

“Mr. Thyriir!?” She asks in a rather surprised tone.

“If there are any queries concerning Charles’ loyalties I can vouch and confirm he is indeed a part of my organisation, his gentleman's’ code ensures it... or so I’m frequently told” He adds in a somewhat annoyed tone.

“Alright gunslinger, I trust you, doesn’t mean I like you though,” She says as she walks past into the pitch black, snatching her knife back.

“That’s rather rude” Charles comments, inserting his earpiece once more and following the Cartel member further through the long, damp and dark alley to deal with their ‘mole infestation’.

The night was in full swing at this point and most of the residents of the suburbs-works border had either gone home, retreated to a tavern or died at this point, one of the three Charles was bound for. With the informant coming to a halt at a back alley pub at the end of a labyrinth of passageways.

The tavern itself is a large wooden building, a dark rich coloured wood to be specific, it’s small and foggy windows allowing no sight into the building, protected by a bright yellow glow, similar to molten iron emanating from them. A crumbling slate roof topped the wooden structure and an unstable-looking chimney, crooked and falling apart pumping smoke continuously. A large sturdy door, reinforced with iron and bolted with rust creeping up the metal augments while vegetation the wooden aspect.

“After you ms.” Charles, always the gentleman insists, outstretching his arm to the door.

Any attempt at chivalry was thwarted however as the Cartel member simply pushed him through the door...

“Stop playing around gunslinger”

Needless to say, Charles looked out of place. Every large, muscular rough figure immediately silencing the chatter and snapping their gazed over to him. soon slight murmurs began to rise and angry looking eyes you could have sworn turned red, well at least the hungry looking ones did. All savage intent was quashed however upon the Cartel information entering, much to Charles’ surprise. The crime lords may be down but surely not out.

“You’ll be meeting our little pest over there, I’ll be sitting on the table over in case things get out of hand” She says, pointing to a table against the left wall of the tavern in the middle of the row.

The inside of the tavern itself was nothing special, a few oil lamps hanging from the rafters, a testament to the building's age. The interior matched the outside with the inside wood being of slightly better condition to that of the outside. A long wooden bar stretched over the majority of the right-hand side of the pub with a single bartender looking over it, dressed in a white shirt with a black bow-tie and vest to match, along with the wide variety of ales, spirits and such that lined the back and kegs linked to taps below the actual bar front that holds the drinks of many mean looking characters. A small smoking area with a poker table lay almost hidden in the far back right corner next to an odd looking metal door with a rather large keyhole.The majority of the tables where simple tables, a round top with a slightly smaller round base and a rusted iron bar connecting the two with the taverns logo and name branded on top, a raven with its wings outstretched and the words “Fallen Hero’s Refuge” written across it inside a thin circle.

“Do whatever you do gunslinger, just be careful, they look like shit but is far from it” The informant warns as they push Charles towards his table. “Oh, and try not to make a scene” She adds.

“Excuse me sir, is this seat taken?” Charles asks who he now knows as his target.

“No.” He replies in a cold tone, his gazed fixed firmly on the floor. The man appears to have the same skin tone and complexion as the informant with lighter, more blonde like hair, cut much shorter, spiked at the fringes tips. Their attire seemed more formal than the Cartel’s usual dress code, a black shirt, unbuttoned at the top with a similar, suit like black jacket, however, his eyes where the most peculiar part about him, pure white pupils and iris with small amounts of deep red streaks of blood around the edge of his eyeballs, their sight could be up to debate.

“Care for a drink, my good chum?” Charles inquires.

“No.”

“Erm, bartender, two whiskeys my good sir!” He asks, raising his arm and a single finger to grab their attention.

The bartender simply stops cleaning his glass and stares at him, stone-faced until walking off.

“Well that was rather rude, wouldn’t you agree?” Charles notes in a stern tone with a stern expression... to no reply, the target didn’t even react.

The bartender then arrives with the two drinks, staring at Charles for a few moments before walking off.

“Much appreciated”  Charles thanks, sliding a glass the target’s way “Well then, I see small talk is clearly not your forte...” Charles goes, only to be interrupted by a larger brute, similar size to Alister, possibly larger at what Charles could estimate 6′6″.

“Wot’ are you doin’ ear? Poshy!” He asks, trying to look as intimidating as possible, stretching to look tall, widening their stance and leaning into Charles while he sits. “I suggest you get out while you can!”

“Excuse me, but that is no way to address a gentleman!” Charles replies still seated.

“Keep it together gunslinger” The informant comments in a whisper.

“Who’d you think you are!” The brute continues, almost laughing.

“Charles..” He starts, slipping a bullet into his gun’s chamber.

“Charles, don’t blow this!” Thyriir pleading his ear as he stands up.

“Goddamn it gunslinger!” The informant silently cries.

“Gentleman gunslinger, at your service” He finishes, aiming his revolver at the thug’s head and pulling the trigger.

The brute’s head now with a bottle cap sized hole in it and body falls limp down to its knees and drops into a small pool of blood. The rest of the tavern falls silent, all staring at Charles as the bartender ducks under the bar.

“I do apologise for that chum but I simply could not stand for that, my gentleman’s code prevents it” Only for him to turn after finishing his sentence to the same situation as the target’s lifeless eyes are locked to Charles’ own and pistol pressed at his forehead.

*Sigh* “Just make it quick” Thyriir buzzes in.

Charles swats the weapon away with the back of his hand, setting it off and sweeping the legs of the informant sending them crashing into the table. He raises his gun to take a shot but the revolver simply clicks, void of any ammunition as the informant rolls to the side.

admits the slight conflict the entire tavern had readied their weapons in response, ensuring the chaos to ensue.

“Get down gunslinger!” The informant orders, vaulting over her own seat and pushing him to the ground, flipping the table to provide cover for the two while the tavern opens fire. An establishment in such a rough area of Ahrthwuien must be sure to protect itself, turning its most abundant furniture into useful resources, even the tables, capable of stopping some of the most common ammunition types.

“Terribly sorry abo...” Charles attempts to apologise.

“Shut up and shoot”

“Ok” Charles responds, loading his chamber with a variety of coloured bullets as courtesy of Thyriir.

Rolling out of cover Charles brandishes his second revolver, firing all six rounds into the crowd of angry patrons, five landing in the heads of five while the sixth ricocheting off the bar front and into the left leg of the target, sending them down to the floor. Holstering the weapon, Charles turns to see a large knife go gliding through the air where his head once was, in response Charles sends a strike down to the elbow joint of the assailant’s arm and chop to their neck, causing them to fall onto a chair and for Charles to fire a red looking bullet into their head, setting it alight.

“So Thyriir, I see you’ve been rather busy” Charles comments, touching his ear, only for the scientist to chuckle back as a body goes flying past, shot down by the informant, nodding to Charles only to turn and continue firing into the crowd.

“Much appreciated ms.” Charles adds, taking a bow, only to be charged and kicked on the side of the head, sending him crashing down to the floor. The same attacker diving to pummel Charles and while he does land a few hits, Charles, grabbing a chair breaks it over their head and rolling them off. Taking the broken leg of the chair; impaling it into the foot of another attacker, causing them to fall to one knee, Charles sweeping their other leg and resting them on his knee, striking their neck, causing it to break.

Taking this momentary break in the action to reload his second revolver with regular bullets and swinging his right revolver anticlockwise from his thigh, aiming up and shooting a blue coloured bullet, piercing the torso of the previous attacker, freezing them almost instantly.

NOTE:Hit w/ butt of gun and behead