( phrasing ) ⸺ open

[ARCHER]

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he'd found that, with each passing day, memories of odin. and the found family he'd once had were replaced with newer memories of the genuine family he'd ended up with. lana and cj were his family now (though lana always had bee, for better or for worse), and as his mother and pam and the rest of the crew were gone, he ought to stop missing them and start moving on with the people he did have. except cyril, he hadn't missed cyril for a second. (although he had missed making jokes at the accountants expense.)

he was a spy, not a babysitter, and though cj was his own child, it wasn't like he'd tote the tot around all day. every now and then, he'd be on daddy duty, if only to get further into his former girlfriend and possible soulmate's good graces, but those days were few and far in between. no, he let lana bother with their son, and instead focused on staying busy. patrols, the occasional hunt, and as of late, collecting resources for stir-friday's. but today, there was less to worry about, and so archer rested on a bench not far from the front steps of the casino, gun in hand as he carefully cleaned the nooks and crannies of it. as always, the man was impeccably dressed in a suit, hair perfectly in place, and of course, a flask resting beside him.

[color=#641F11]"this shit is what woodhouse used to be good for," is all he mutters, lips pressed into a fine line, obviously bothered by doing such a tedious task that his butler ought to be doing.

[capt. salem]

| | | YOU'RE A VILLAINOUS THING
AND WE CAN'T HAVE YOU LIVING A LIE

Impeccable suit, not a hair out of place, cleaning a gun. It was- not an unusual sight, really, since Salem had seen the man before at some point - likely in the casino - but never bothered introducing himself, or asking the other man's name. Well, now seemed a good a time as any given Salem had nothing better to do than bother some random man.

"You look troubled, don't like the whole cleaning aspect? I find it calming myself," Salem commented, and instead of sitting on the bench he simply put one arm on the back of the bench and leaned; perhaps a bit uncomfortably, as he was hovering over the other man to an extent and unlike Archer, Salem didn't put nearly as much effort into his personal groooming.

[justify]Waste no worry for the world, [abbr=Goes by Salem or Monty | He/Him or They/Them Pronouns | 28yrs Old | 6'3"| Leader of the Badlands | Former pirate captain | Sexuality is a unlabeled free for all; Panromantic and attracted solely to people who radiate power]&[/abbr]
Let it be a tragedy of love and glory, [abbr=Medium-Hard Physically | Hard Mentally | Attacks with whip, scimitar or revolver | Open to maim if requested / discussed prior | Not open for death or capture | Difficult but not impossible to defeat or subdue]&[/abbr]
While they wait by gates of pearl, [abbr=Guy Fieri aesthetic | Choppy short dull brownish-grey hair | Bright green eyes | Three piercings on both ears (two on top cartilage, one large on lobe), and a lip piercing | Scruffy beard starting to grow in | Both pinky fingers cut off | Walks with noticeable limp, favors his right leg]&[/abbr]
We'll be building palaces in purgatory, [abbr=There are no extra tags this is just for aesthetic]&[/abbr]
(IC Opinions)[/justify]

[MICHAEL.]

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tw: alcohol, death, lots of blood, profanity, heavy violence, religion

Mike shouldn't be out that much, but regardless of his need for bed rest, he couldn't stand the bed he was sleeping in, too hard, pokey, and uncomfortable to get a good rest in, and so the man was up and at 'em. His arm was, honestly, feeling much better than it had been the week prior, though it still had a number of weeks left for recovery.

And as long as he didn't use it a lot, he'd be fine. Which was why he had ventured outside his sea side shanty. It wasn't long before he came across Salem and Archer, or maybe it was long, he'd lost track of time in his jaunt through the badlands. Well, here he was.

He cleared the distance between him and the two, curious what was going on, he barely remembered Archer, or did he remember him at all? The guy seemed vaguely familiar. "What're you two fellows up to?" Was his intrusive question to the two.

Did he care about privacy? Of course he did, but he was also curious, and so, asked the prying question.