"The Barking Spider" Trenton Outpost, New York.

[X-Blade]

With each footstep came a light jingle that could be faintly heard even before the mechanical doors at the bar's corridor slid open.

An older gentlemen fully clad in a tuxedo steps inside and stops, slowly removing his jacket. A bar attendant was quick to grab his coat and hang it for him, which was returned with a polite nod and a smile that partially concealed itself behind a bushy grey handlebar mustache. The nod wasn't returned, however, but a nervous gaze in it's stead. Dexter's smile faded when he followed the man's eyes to his belt, which holstered an antique Colt .44 Special, 1st Generation Buntlines with checkered Fiddleback Maple grips.

Dexter's smile half-returned and he raised his eyes to the attendant, making contact with a thousand yard stare.
"Don't worry,", said Dexter, "I don't plan on using it any time soon."

The attendant gave a nervous nod and moved off to the bar, where a glance from Dexter had the tender pouring a glass of Brandy on the rocks and having it ready at his table near the corner of the bar where a window looked out to Planet Manhattan.

It was then that he noticed the other occupants of the bar, particularly Danielle and Araevin, both of which he tipped his black cowboy hat to with a light smile as he made his way over to his chair with a calm, confident and deliberate stride. The jingle with each step revealing itself as the sound of spurs rattling on his black, distressed style western boots.

He took his seat and produced a wooden pipe, already tamped down with a dark tobacco, striking a match on his whiskers and lighting the bowl to produce a red glow that briefly illuminated his dim corner of the bar.

Before even exhaling the smoke, came a sip of brandy, and then the smooth aromatic fog was released into the air.