[color=fff79a]"Place looks swell, definitely a destination adventure, if you like being hunted by cannibals."[/color]

Tony knew how to make friends. But he also had to buy beer to keep the cooler up. It was 'his' turn.

Wearing a long-sleeved base layer, a pair of faded out jeans and a pair of workboots, he didn't really, couldn't really, blend in around here, not with that sign that said 'OUT OF TOWNER' floating over his head for every provincial jackass to see. The accent was different out here -- this was an arid desert type spot and Tony was from the real rednecky fuckoff alpine parts of Rassvet, but that didn't mean the hinterlanders all got along. 

In any case, Tony wasn't one to wait around for Gerard or Justice to tell him how do things, so he decided to mosey on his own toward a general store of some sort, one with 'BIER!' in neon lights in the window. More like, "B ER" but that was fine, he broke the code. The place had the same look as the sticky-floors motel they'd parked in -- window mounted AC that indicated a lack of central air, and a slightly yellowish film on the walls that came from generational, family-wide cigarette smoking habits. He could absolutely smell the fuckin' patina.

The crazy part was that the girl behind the counter seemed like she'd be nice to talk to except for the frown and the obvious wrinkling of the nose -- it wasn't like he actually stank either. Seeing as there were other dudes and they were watching Tony like roosters defending their hens, he kind of figured that these folks were all in a social circle together. Like school, but with less live ammo and being assigned a squad. But he knew a social unit when he saw one.

The problem was, there was no way to intimate to them that they should find someone else to fuck with. He didn't, as a policy, wear branded 'WARDEN' shit that screamed 'CITADEL!" out because it was the best way to avoid the inevitable press of schlubby adults ready to thank him for compulsory service. He just didn't like the attention.

In any case, keeping his head on a swivel while trying to stay casual, Tony eased past racks of rural corner store wares with copious spacing between the items, indicating a low inventory and tough times to go with the extremely high prices, toward the comforting neon light and electric hum of a refrigeration unit. Behind that finger-printed glass on rust-flecked metal shelves lay what he was looking for -- four packs, six packs, big bottles of farmer-style beer with corks, thirty packs of canned stuff. He grabbed a couple bags of pretzels and even something spicy and cheesy in a jar to dip them in, as an afterthought. He didn't look too closely at the expiration dates, but he already knew that those were cordially ignored in wartime anyway.

He made a selection, some cheap canned piss in a twenty four pack because he wasn't made of money, and headed toward the counter, only to get the girl's roll of the eyes as a customer had the temerity to interrupt the giggling and flirting. Tony was doing his best here, not to overly notice the one other girl that seemed to be taken with one of the guys, and like four other dudes that looked like varying degrees of potential trouble, going by the set of their mouths and the way they watched as if annoyed to be interrupted.

He kept it to business, [color=fff79a]"G'tag,"[/color] and a performative, perfunctory smile that indicated no interest in long speeches. He even had his wallet out, indicating 'tick-tock'.

[color=f26522]"Gonna need ID for that,"[/color] came a sullen response that seemed to work its way past compressed lips.

[color=fff79a]"Yeah, sure."[/color] Tony told her as he placed the items on the counter and fished into the wallet for his ID, which regrettably did have not only his name and information, but also his service designation and rank. He handed it over after a moment of hesitation.

He didn't like the vibe with the dudes, but until one said something, he was just gonna get this cashout done.

It took a moment for her to run all the numbers, but she came out with the cost and it was amazing to Tony that she managed to keep a straight face when she said, [color=f26522]"60 gils."[/color]

Tony burst out laughing, and that's when he knew he'd fucked up. One crack in the facade, just his luck.

[color=6ecff6]"Something fuckin' funny there, stranger?"[/color] inquired a voice a little too close behind him for comfort. Local, and he knew which one was doing the talking -- the big number that had been the primary means of entertainment for the lady of the register, clearly a man about town given his height, shoulders and the look of someone used to fucking with people and getting away with it.

Tony, calmly, reached for one of the cans while handing the money over to the young woman, his face again straight. It didn't matter, he could just tell this was gonna go a certain way. He could respect bored, pissed and looking for adventure, but not when he was the adventure.