<em>Nephi, riding up and entering the hangout</em><br/><br/>Nephilah Graves gunned the engine as her bike ate up the road to the local club. It was time to ride into town. She felt that she needed a lever-action across her back to complete the proper image, but she didn't need cops asking questions. The blonde skidded to a halt outside the club's hangout and dropped the kickstand on her bike. It was enough trouble to get the open-carry permit for this state, she didn't want cops bothering her about legally carried rifles, so she made do without.<br/><br/>She pushed open the door and stepped inside. Today she had on a cropped white tank top under her denim jacket. The jacket itself was a little short on her, but sported a dozen assorted colors along the chest and back. Boots thudded as she walked over to the bar and took a seat. She tugged the cliched hat off her head and set it on the bar.<br/><br/>Nephi grinned at the women. "Hey ya'll," she said without preamble. She fidgeted a little to get comfortable, with the SiG at her hip and a Anaconda in the middle of her back, she had enough lead with her, but they made it tricky to sit comfortably sometimes. Finally she sighed and pulled the knife from the sheath and her hip and set it on the bar. That was just enough to make it possible to sit. "Any chance of a beer for a thirsty trav'ler?"