[center] [img]    https://c2.staticflickr.com/8/7197/6877341513_c7ce75b852_b.jpg          [/img] [/center] 

[@Dragonbud] 

“You look cute in that  getup, hun, but I prefer redheads.” Idabelle smirked. 

She shot forward at an alarming pace, her feet bouncing nimbly off of the padded ring. Within seconds she’d moved into punching distance of Dusty. 

“Sorry in advanced.” 

Idabelle pulled back her left arm, sending a closed-fist barreling towards the young raider’s face. 

[hr] 

[@Andreyich] 

“The Shark Club!” The junkie yelped, the gun falling from her fingers as she broke out into a fit of shaking “She’s at the Shark Club, I promise!” 

A few murky tears began rolling down her gnarled cheeks. 

“P-please, don’t shoot!” 

[hr] 

[@Sol Grim] 

“I’m sure that Mister Rickman would appreciate the compliment. I’ll make a point of passing it on.” The bartender said with a smile, before slipping away to tend to other customers. 

For some time nothing of much note happened, until a figure in a white suit and dark suit made his way into the Imperial and sat down opposite an older man in a leather jacket and stained trousers. 

“Start talking, Mister Reed,” said the first man “tell me everything you know about The Salt Lake Chasm.”