Travis raked his slicked back hair with his fingers, sweat plastering it to his head. Deep bags had set into his under eye after the night of restless sleep. He looked into the mirror above his sink, smelling of after shave, as he ran his hand across his face, feeling his five o clock shadow, the stubble lightly prickling his fingers. Despite the active sunlight outside, the room was dark as the blinds were drawn. After taking a deep gulp of air, he splashed frigid cold water on his face, expelling his tiredness. After drying his hands on a ragged hand towel, Travis unholstered his revolver. With a flick of his wrist, he popped the chamber open, making sure all the bullets were loaded. One, two, three, four five, six. Six bullets. Yep, that was right. With elegant speed, he flicked his wrist again, closing the chamber. He flipped off the safety, spun the gun around his forefinger, and holstering it -- a move he did often in his hometown deserts. He shook his head, clearing it, and headed out into the ship's hallway.

As Travis arrived into the mess hall, he glanced at his watch. "Damn," he muttered to himself, realizing he was late for breakfast. Renault was finishing up an introductory speech, one he'd heard from many [url=http://www.legendsofamerica.com/we-slang.html]augers[/url] do in his time. He was sure it involved something about his word being law, and the like. It was a common cliche' that he was all too used to. Travis entered the mess hall's line, nodding to the staff. "What you got left for me?" he asked the server who he for some reason had taken a liking to, named Jim. 

"Late again Travis? How hard is it to wake up on time?" he said with a chuckle. After a hard stare from Travis, he continued, "Right, what we have left. Well there's some coffee left, if you want," pulling out a pot of coffee from under the counter. "I'll take what I can get," responded Travis, as Jim poured him a cup of Arbuckle's. After grabbing the cup, taking a sip, and giving Jim his nod of approval, Travis pulled into one of the only seats available. It was next to a blonde girl, probably in her mid 20's who was wearing black clothing; something of a hybrid between a dress and a jacket. As he studied her more he realized that she had a cybernetic hand. Travis found this interesting, but turned to his coffee. He nearly finished it by gulping it in one go, and once he was done he pulled out a pack of Marlboros. He held the cigarrette in his mouth as he drew a lighter out from his breast pocket. He cupped the flame from the lighter in his hands as he drew it to the ciggarette, effectively lighting it.

"Smoking first thing in the morning, now you've really sunk low Trav," he muttered to himself, thinking out loud.