(http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSHpzlTj0RCU_lHFINhjhDOyIeWIvjo__Hcf32_vUIdd-muv7Rhxw)<br/><br/>Babs reader and procurer of fine things...with a little killin' on top<br/>2519, present day<br/>Location - The Last Stand Saloon, Eavesdown, Persephone<br/>Tagging – 'Nomad, Thalia, Sidney and Arron she is aware of the others<br/><br/>Babs clinked her drink at ‘Nomad’ he got that grin again, “<strong>Darlin’ya’ll should ‘ave knowed I git owt, tell yah though was touch an’ go at the end, we lost a rut load but then that were normal.”</strong>Taking a swig of her drink and looking for a cigar to chew on in her pockets  she smile continued<strong>, “I see that ya don’t show de scar on yah backside. Darlin’s ‘e ..." </strong>she turned to Thalia<strong> 'e squealed like a ruttein’ babby pig….ya’ll should ‘of seen it. Thought 'e was goin’ ta bring down them purple bellies down with the noise....”</strong>There was some more laughter as she went on to tell some tale about a green lad catching him the arse with a missfire. Whether is was real or not was a matter for debate, just as the stories of Babs were.<br/><br/>The truth was she did do a hell of a lot, and she really did take risks, at least for her own life, better to die than to go back…Yes Babs did a good deal of the feats in the tales,  but it was all in the eye of the beholder. In her mind she used what skills she had to do a job... One thing was sure though this Browncoat never left a man behind….never.  Even now Babs she was still holdin’ to that. All she knew was she had to be careful now about certain things, and was mindful about them.<br/><br/><strong>“Anyway I ain’t ‘ere ta be borin’ folks with old war stories.”</strong>And she wasn’t, though it was sometimes good to see someone again that understood the insanity that had been.<strong> “Lookin’ for work, mostly, but there aint a lot for old soldiers like me.” </strong>She laughed again. The word old was amusing for Babs looked relatively fresh faced, though there were a couple of visible knotted scars across her left collar bone. Those procedures had likely been performed in the field, and in a hurry.<br/><br/>“<strong>As for what I ‘ave been a doin’ well this n’that, yah know what was is Charlie used t’a  say, redistabutin’ the wealth o’ the verse and the like.”</strong>She didn’t mention the killin’ but Nomad likely knew that it had been done, though Bab’s still kept to certain codes for them that would meet the business side of her sharp pointy things.<strong> “So what you been up ta sweetcheeks other that pickin’ up gals and misbe'avin’?”<br/></strong><br/>Babs might have appeared relaxed yet all the time she was alert, ready for fight or flight, as it was too many folks and bright lights did not wholly sit well with her psyche, however it was mostly under control, even more so because she needed a job. Or rather really wanted to get off this planet.<br/><br/><strong>“Where are ma manners folks me mama would ‘ave ‘ad ma guts fer more than garters, the names Babette.. Good ta meet ‘cha even if this big fella aint good at formal introduction.” </strong>With that a rough long fingered hand was put out to shake.<br/><br/><br/>