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[noble_samurai]

Jack never really has a good day. When you've been flung ages into the future, into a world of corruption and greed, a 'good' day usually means you were only attacked by thieves or bounty hunters two or three times

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[not_one_drop]

Mal has a good eye. And a good nose, for a vampire. So she stills, watching the sword thoughtfully for a moment, hand over the hilt of her own, before getting up and moving to bar, getting a cleaning cloth and offering it to him. "Here."

[noble_samurai]

He glances up, then takes the cloth with a slight bow of the head. "Thank you." He proceeds to wipe down the sword, the cloth soon soaked in blood and oil. A man of few words, Jack waits until he is finished to speak again. "What is your name, stranger?"

[not_one_drop]

"Mal." She watches him thoughtfully. "And you?"

[noble_samurai]

"You may call me Jack."

He's careful not to lie about his name. Jack, after all, is not his real name. It's not a very common one where he's from either, actually.

"Where are you from, Mal?"

[v_knidh8er]

Oh they do. They honestly and truly do.

The small door that has just appeared to the side of the front door opens. Five bright orange children with even brighter green hair emerge. As always they are clad in their ever present white overalls and large black leather motorcycle jackets.

They look at the mess, then at each other.
Moving as one they offer the retreating samauri a two-fingered salute.