"Considering the distance and my usual charge," Alex muttered, sitting at the table. Crunching the numbers in his head, he nodded. "That would be-" And just at that moment, a blur came through the saloon doors and crashed onto the table. Mouth still partly open, he closed it and looked down calmly, a deadpan expression on his face. Staring at Larissa's face, he exhaled an exasperated sigh. "I did not ask for a table dance," he commented, looking her in the eye, completely serious and deadpan. "Get off the table."<br/>At this point, everyone in the bar was looking at the courier as if he was insane. Not only did he throw a box at Girien's head, but now he's being snarky with the woman who practically items the town. "Dude's got balls," someone muttered.<br/>Turning his head to raise an eyebrow at that, he gave the patrons a look of 'do I look like I give a care?' Sighing again, he got out of his seat and walked out. Seeing Girien hamming it up, with a bunch of bandits, he groaned loudly. "Girien, what the hell are you doing?" Frowning, he looked at the bandits. These guys did not look like any of the one he saw when walking into town. If anything, they look more like... Raiders. "Goddammit Girien," he growled. A weapon appeared in his hand, a revolver to be precise, polished metal and wood-like appearance to the handle, with a loop of tanned hide attached to the handle, and a small blade attached to the barrel like a mini-bayonet. Eye narrowed, he checked the arrangement of the raiders, at which point he saw the kids. Swearing under his breath, he charged in, firing at raiders. "Hey, get behind me," he told the kids, his tone leaving no room for argument, as he kept his nuke aimed at the scum. As he said that, two raiders were laid out on the ground, letting out pained noises as they tried to pull out small blades that embedded into their shoulders at the speed of a bullet.