Another day, so it seemed. Just like the last. There were no answers to be found at the bottom of his bottle. Or his barrel. Answers, but only short term. They would not help him in the long run. He needed to... do something with himself. Get his mind of things. Yeah... That's it. Have a little, fun. But he still needed a job, and all he had done his whole life was be a soldier in the military. The best. But now he was a soldier no more, and he was on his own. Alone, in this world. What an empty feeling. You know what else had an empty feeling? His glass.

Ash blinked a little, picking his head up off the end of the bar as he came back to the world of reality. He did that, sometimes, get lost in his own thoughts. Get very lost in them. Even worse than if you got stuck out there in the desert without a compass or a map. Well, there was the sun trajectory... No, no, he had to focus. Breathe. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5... Just count and breathe. Alright, he felt better. 

Wearing a leather jacket, a grey shirt that fit his muscular figure well with the sleeves ripped off, ripped jeans and combat boots, he was one of the more intimidating figures in the tavern. Dark aviators on his face, a sawed off shotgun on his belt, and a bolt action rifle slung across his back. With a combat knife strapped to his thigh to top it all off and his military backpack with all his belongings, there was an air of dominance about him. And this was all passive, really. To be quite honest, all he was doing was spacing out and drinking his troubles away. But after so much drinking, his body had built up an immunity where non-liquor only gave him a buzz. But it was enough to get by.

The bartender was quick to note this, and had already came over with a full glass. When Ash had strolled into town not too long ago, the bartender had noted his quite intimidating appearance and offered him a job. He kept trouble out of his tavern and protected it, and he would be payed. But the ex-military man wanted no money, and only asked for food, a place to stay, and alcohol. And that was what he was granted. Yes sometimes he picked his own bar fights, with tough guys who thought that they were better than him, but he did his job and the place was quite safe. And mostly he drank alcohol to calm himself, trying to keep himself from getting into trouble. 

Suddenly, a figure entered the tavern, and he turned to see a man with shades walk into the building. He seemed like of those big captain looking guys who had money and talked about their ship blah blah blah. Bunch of hogwash anyways, usually. But there was something about this man, he looked more esteemed compared to some of the other bums who walked in the place. A new face indeed. For why a man like this would be in the likes of this place was beyond his guess. Not like he cared either way. He turned to look at the now full glass in his hand, sipping from it a bit. Maybe that's what Ash wanted to do... Adventure out on one of those ships. See the world. Maybe even cause some havoc. It was a paying job, so he had heard. Yeah, maybe that's what he wanted to do... But then again, drinking was nice too.