There was a crash, followed by the sound of a glass bottle shattering in the background. Everyone to turned their heads in curiosity, trying to figure out what had happened. Though the room was dimly lit they could still make out the silhouettes of three men formed in a triangular pattern near the entrance. Behind those three figures was another man, his body limp, motionless and laying against the wall. One could see that he had been carrying a gun, and had no doubt threatened the three men, causing them to act in self defense. Though their intentions had been for the sole purpose of protecting their own hides, the crowd of folks could only gaze at them with an unnerving apprehension. A glimmer of red light passed by from a car outside, glancing off the broken shards that lay on the ground. A few speckles of light dashed and darted off of the limp man's head, putting to rest the question of his mortality. The remainder of the bottle resided in the thick, rough palm of the head man. He dropped it to the ground and nonchalantly made his way over to a table, taking a seat without paying attention to the commotion that he had caused. Most people turned back around, realizing that the situation had been dealt with and that there was nothing to worry about. However, some stares still came his way, most of them nasty, others confused. He still paid them no attention, only bothering to look at his two other companions as they joined him at the table.
Their boots clicked and clacked against the metal floor; the sounds reverberating throughout the entire room. As they came closer, the patrons could see that they were all dressed in a similar fashion. Black, zipped up vests covered their upper bodies, while loose fitting jeans covered their lower halves. Each vest bore different accessories and details upon them. One man had several tears in his, while the other kept his plain. The head man had decorated his with various insignias, though no one could determine what they represented. Their boots were of varying colors as well. The head man wore solid black ones, while the other two wore two separate shades of brown, respectively.
The head man leaned back in his chair, angling it in a dangerous, teetering position. He kicked his legs upon the table, resting them there in a crossed position. His face entered the light, allowing everyone to finally see his features. His hair was short and dark brown, spiked upwards with some gel. His eyes appeared to be dark, most likely brown as well. The overall structure of his face was definitely very masculine, almost ideal for a tough guy. There was certain softness to it though, something that made him much more mysterious. He was not just a brute.
The second man, the one to the head's left, was quite different from his leader. His head was angled in an inquisitive position; the look you would give someone if they asked you a perplexing question. It appeared almost natural to him, and quite frankly, it was disturbing. His long, dirty blonde hair was tied back in a pony tail, keeping his bangs from his face. His eyebrows were thick and clumpy, giving him a Neanderthal like appearance. His grayish-blue irises shined with a morbid glow in the pale moonlight. His skin, the same color as this light, released a haunting aura. It was as though he was a cross between a vampire and a demon.
The third man was easily the most humble of the three. He had long, shoulder length hair, brown in color with some gray strands flowing through in random spots. A thick beard covered his face, making him appear much older than he most likely was. His forehead was creased with age and stress and his eyebrows, like the blond man, were quick thick. He had certain neatness to him though, as his hair was combed and his beard, despite covering much of his face, was neatly kept. He folded his hands over the metallic table, allowing them to rest. Why he was trying to behave so decently after coming in here with a man who smashed a bottle was perplexing to the patrons. A mysterious group they certainly were...
The bar tender, who had been watching the entire time, walked over to them. In his left hand was a glass, and in his right hand was a cloth. He rubbed the two objects together in the most stereotypical of fashions. His left eyebrow was cocked curiously and he looked as though he had something to say. The head man looked up to him, noticing his elderly, misshapen features. The old man was fairly rotund; his skin wrinkled and his hair nearly gone. What was actually left of his skullet was completely gray.
"I don't appreciate you three comin' in here at this hour, makin' a mess of things and such. It's not like we've got any rules on this planet, though. I'm jus' sayin', I don't like it," he spoke up, his voice raspy and worn. The head man yawned at this, not particularly caring for the bar tender's opinion.
"Well, like you said, there are no rules. I don't believe your opinion holds any weight, so the best thing to do right now would be to just get us our drinks. We'll be in and outta here pretty quickly, so don't worry about it," he replied. The bar tender nodded and turned away, still rubbing his glass in that same rhythmic pattern. He returned about a minute later with three drinks.
As he set them down on the table he could see that the three men were leaning in, trying to catch a glimpse of the liquid. They had most likely never been to this planet before, so they had no clue what the customary alcohol was like. A bright red liquid resided in the three medium sized glasses, giving off a slight glow as it sloshed around with the motion of the old man's fragile hands. The very moment that he leaned away from the table, the three men went to grab the drinks. Their hasty movements nearly caused them to knock the glasses over, but luckily they took control of their clumsiness just in the nick of time. They guzzled down the red fluid, feeling the powerful burning sensation lap at the back of their throats. It was a strong alcohol; there was no question about that.
The drinks were quickly downed, and they finished the ritual by slamming their empty glasses against the table. The unified clank caused everyone to turn their heads again, though this time they were met with a much less gruesome sight.
"Thanks for that," the head man said as he stood up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few bills. Luckily for the bar tender, it was the currency of his home planet, and he would not have to go through the tedious process of changing the money. The man tossed the cash down to the table, then turned to leave, the other two following just behind him.