As the girl sat down, Julian was nearly tempted to place his hand over her beer. She looked too young to be drinking, that stary-eyed gaze about her, green as grass. It's not like Chalmun's would be checking ages anyway, which got him thinking, does Tatooine even have an age restriction for alcoholic drinks. He chose not to interfere. If she hadn't yet had her face curb-stomped in the back alley, then she was tough enough that he didn't want to have to break her nose if she got feisty because he refused to let her drink.
"Yeah, I'm new," he said back with thinly veiled sarcasm, "Julian Valentine, Bounty Hunter." His jet black hair was blemished with grey, his once clean shaven face was growing back. His blue eyes were dulled, but they were no less piercing. His skin was leathered from sun and age, wrinkles lined around his lips, the signs of a man who once smiled a lot. Two tattoos, thick black lines, curved from his hairline and streaked down his forehead at its center. "What can I do for you?" he then frowned, "I don't come cheap, if that is what you came to ask of me."
| [member="Eliza Raxis"] |