Though initially his tipsiness and well-founded self-confidence prevented Reuben from feeling any fear at the gun held by the small young woman, the feel of the cold steel barrel against his nether regions quickly snapped him back to reality. Petite or not, young or not, this young woman had a gun at his tool, and the odds weren't bad that she was willing to use it, at that. He realized in that moment that he had been taking this with far less seriousness than he should have been. Apparently she was right: alcohol had numbed his sense of self-preservation.

	Holding his hands out before himself protectively, he stepped back half a pace, then did as he was told. It didn't sit right with him, being ordered around, but a gun is a gun. Best to play along... for the moment, at least.

	With a hand on the chair's back to steady himself, he eased down into the seat carefully, trying not to make any sudden moves. "You're a right firebrand, so you are. Take care you don't burn yourself." As he sat, he added "No need for any of this unpleasantness. I'm certain that a couple of rational, reasonable people like you and I could come to some sorta non-violent-type agreement, now wouldn't you agree?"

	"You... wanted my name, correct?" He was hesitant to give it out so easily. He was a bit protective of his identity, though, of course, he was a good bit more protective of the region threatened by the Colt. "My name is Reuben Caerwynn, called Luckshot by some, though not so much anymore." He chuckled to himself, with a dark, self-loathing humor. "Back in the day I was quite the character. They wrote dime novels about me, did you know that? It wasn't even more than a couple years ago that my name made blackhats shake in their damn boots." He spoke without a hint of pride, as though he were resigned to the fact that he would be easily recognized, but had tried to put such things behind him.

	"And you? I heard a bit o' what you were splutterin' downstairs, but I can't say I caught your name. Only seems fair, since I told you mine and shared my drink. Hell, all you've done for me is kept me from a damn unpleasant whore and pointed a gun at my nethers. Now, either let me get back to my business, or see about explainin' yourself."