[b]Wire[/b]

In his quest for sustenance, he was stopped in his tracks by a man he did not know what to make of.

"Now you is an odd-lookin' feller," the man said "How do you breathe in that bubble? Fletcher Ross, by the by. Pleased to make your ah-quaint-ence." 

[i]Well if that isn't the most antiquated of accents I have ever heard.
Just roll with it.[/i]

"..Wire" He said after a calculated pause. He wanted him to know that he thought that [i]he[/i] was 'odd-lookin'. Especially with those old fashioned revolvers strapped to his hips. And then he disarmed any tension that could arisen by changing the subject back to the business at hand.

"Any idea where to get some damned food in this place? I'm bloody starving."

His British accent coming through his voice filter. He wondered what his response to that would be. He kept a hidden eye on 'Fletcher Ross's' facial expression. He didn't yet know how much he wanted to get along with this guy, but friends were certainly better than acquaintances.