[@RumikoOhara]

[i]Lassar shrugged and walzed through the gate. On his back was slung a compact rifle and shoved haphazardly into his boot was a bowie knife. He had on his head a backwards camouflage baseball cap. He'd stop next to Tina, belly thrust out and eyes lazy. He smelt of beans, pot, and gunpowder. The hobo smacked his lips, plucked the joint from his mouth, and offered it to Tina with a near-toothless smirk.[/i]

[color=0072bc]"Try summa this boy, it'll put hair on yer' ass."[/color]

[i]Where had he come from, who was he? He looked like a complete bum, but somehow had been able to afford a set of undoubtedly expensive guns. He didn't seem to be in good shape, but his lax figure and ease of motion harkened forth not the frailty of an old man, but the lounging latent energy of a big cat in Africa.[/i]