Blade bartended at a bar, yet he tried to stay civil despite of the profanities that rained like nails; the only thing that withheld his decorum was the jazz that drowned out the man's slurred speech.

Odiously sparing a glance, holding himself back as he dried the used shot glass with a towel; a loud bang with crimson befouling his own pale complexion— Blade stayed indifferent, blood splattered on the counter.

“Impressive.” Blade commented, having witnessed you shoot the man point-blank.