The Red Floor - [Closed RP] - [Scratch/Freddie]
The Red Floor was lively.
Rowdy patrons gathered around. They fighting, they were drinking and they were gambling. Everyone was having a good time. Everyone respected the rules, because they knew the punishments. Besides - , the beer was colder here. Salon music filled the air, along with the harsh laughter. The floor was red, so blood could blend in. The people here weren’t very good. Chances are a murder happens here every other night. Some of these faces could be seen on wanted posters. Every kind of Vegas scumbag drank and fought here.
Scratch sat with himself. Spending his caps wisely. His ill-gotten caps were running low. Scratch really didn’t mind that. The liquor was worth it, because it numbed everything. Occasionally, someone would walk through the door. Scratch’s eyes would quickly dart. Judging them well, he was good at that. Anyone could walk through that door. Scratch would want to be ready - , just in case. But one person was watching him. A cowboy looking man, with a distinct mustache. He would look over every now and then. The Fiend was becoming rather restless over this. He already pinned the man as a bounty-hunter. The “bounty-hunter” has been siting there for three hours. Occasionally ordering water, it was always water. Scratch wondered when the man was going to move. Underneath the table, Scratch had his gun ready. Just in case something goes down.
Suddenly someone walked through the door. Someone he instantly recognized.