A smokey, rough pub deep in the heart of the Westcoast, visited by no more than one hundred people in one hundred years, is where Ace Wilder feels most at home. This pub only invites the most rugged badass kind of humans. Sitting alone at the bar, Ace slowly spins his razor-sharp knife with his right hand on the counter. Creating another hole to go along with many others.
The barman slides a shot of whiskey towards Ace, which he stops with a swift stab into the wooden counter with the blade of his knife. With a respectful nod towards the barman, a conversation is sure to take place.
“Cheers Bill,” says Ace with a tough, deep, husky voice.
“No worries mate” replies Bill.
The pair have had many conversations that started exactly like this. It’s almost become a silent tradition.
“How’s the farm today Ace? Have they come back yet or did they get the message?”
“I’d say they will be infecting my space any day now mate,” says Ace.
“What are ya gonna do to them this time?”
“Whatever I can to get them to never step foot on my land again,” Ace says, getting angrier with every breath.
Ace then swigs his shot and slams it onto the counter, sending soundwaves across the pub. Everybody in the room looks to see what is going on. But soon just go back to what they were doing once realising the loud shadowy figure at the bar was just Ace being Ace. Bill asks Ace if he wants another. Ace replies as though he’s not listening to Bill.
“So you reckon if they come back and something happens to them we could keep it to ourselves?”
Bill looks confident but his resistance becomes clear when answering
“ Yeah sure, mate. What are you gonna do?” Ace just gives a slight tug to the brim of his wide, dark brown leather hat, letting Bill know exactly what he needs to know by just one movement.
With just a touch of Aces finger on top of the empty shot glass before him, Bill quickly refills it as if waiting to prove his loyalty.
The knife now spinning again slowly has created a much larger hole than the others. Which lets Bill know that something is definitely on Aces mind. He hasn’t seen him act this way for a long time. The question on Bill’s mind is if Ace has a plan or is just going to wing it.
Last time Ace didn’t make a plan for a situation like this, people got hurt. Really hurt.
An obvious sign that Ace isn’t himself is the fact that the worn brown hat of his was still firmly on the top of his head and angled down just enough to cover his eyes from a straight-on view.
Before Bill can ask Ace the question he’s longing to know the answer too. Ace looks up at Bill, so his eyes were just visible and still slowly spinning his knife says
“Pour me one more shot Bill and this time pour yourself one too” Bill hesitantly but with a brave face pours the two drinks. They tap glasses and just before they down the shot Ace says with his knife now motionless
“You better hug your brother’s goodbye, boy.”
Ace downs his shot, while Bill takes a few seconds to let the revelation sink in, then he too takes his shot and slowly puts his glass on the counter.