Barty had always found a good drink after a long day of fighting his way past the justice system and hearding cattle a good way to take the edge off of everything. Even if that meant the sun hadn't even fully settled and he'd knocked back his fifth whisky.

But, hey, who cared when you were a notorious outlaw who rode into the sunset with Regulus and Evan, the dishonoured heir of the Black fourtune and one of the greatest gunslingers in the west? Barty surely didn't.

Unfortunately this saloon wasn't as friendly to his type as previous ones he'd settled at. Barty was sat at the bar, nursing the cool glass against a forming bruse he'd gotten after rough-housing the man that had been previously sat in his seat. No one had tried to stop in fear of being the next.

Regulus had gone...somewhere, probably being the smart one of the group and finding them lodgings. Evan had gone to tie up the horses and was probably keeping his carefree twin, Pandora, out of trouble.

Barty's thought were suddenly interrupted- quite rudely he might add- by someone yelling across the bar and a table being flipped over. He knocked back the burning golden liquid before looking around to try and find the cause of the ruckus.

It didn’t take long before he saw a greasy haired git with his knuckles busted and a sneer on his face, along with probably one of the hottest men that Barty had ever seen. Black hair, tanned skin, muscular like a god, and a grin despite the blood trickling down his nose.

Barty had barely taken in the situation before the teo cowboys were throwing punches that cracked like lightning. Suddenly the extremely hot one was thrown right against the bar next to where Barty was sat.

Then, he immediately got an extremely stupid and enticing thought. Barty was an idiot anyway. He took off his hat and placed it right onto the messy black hair as the man groaned. A symbol that everyone held their breath at. "Need some help pretty boy? No one gonna mess with you now." Barty grinned, looking almost manically around the room.