>>6297038
The man in the dark coat is turned away from you, and doesn't really have a clue about who is stepping up behind him. But he does know someone is stepping up behind him, because you could not help but chuckle as you rattled around how you would even begin to address him.

And how he spun around to greet you is so very fucking American of him.

In one fluid motion, he pushed his chair away from the table and the girls he was with and placed something under your chin. The iron was not cold and chilly; it's warm and musty from being underneath his thick coat. Blood pumps much quicker through your veins all the same as the chain of his gatling revolver clinks beneath your head.

Under the shadow of his hat's brim, Durant gives you a steely glare. "Don't you got any manners? Silly bitch-wait." He stops himself as he actually registers your face. "Who the- Aren't you...?"

Textbook Chicago Handshake.
>You cannot turn around and walk away from this [2]
>Your silence could buy his pistol right out of his hand but you don't even know how to operate it really [0]
>There's no way you can pretend to be in on his scheme [0]
>It would look too schizophrenic if you started telling him that giant walking talking trees are part of the shadow government, even if that knowledge will get him killed one day [1]
>Remind him how dead he is if he pulls that trigger (Savvy, 6d8) [4]
> +Intimidate him, HARD [3]
>Demand to know how much he's already contributed to the weapons downstairs [5]
Your roll was already made.

"Well I'm not the only bitch that's slipped its leash, schwinehund." You grab his gun and dig it deeper under your chin. He lurches in to stop his hand from slipping, eyes wide in shock. "And might I remind you I'm a certain Swan's favorite? One trip to your little group's suite in the early morning, your master is gone, the big red dog you take care of is hers, and you can have the pleasure of being on the other end of your dirtywork."

Composing himself from your overwhelming audacity, he finds his throat to speak from. "T-the hell are you doing down here? You got a wild side?"

You don't actually know what expression you're making but you know your eyebrows are perched as high as they possibly can be. "That's none of your business. Speaking of business, you used to make guns for the Chicago underground, didn't you? I saw something real interesting next door." With a breath, you make sure you're giving a toothy grin. "Does it pay well?"

Durant gives you a mean scowl, conflicted between burying it deeper under your neck or pulling away. "Fuck. What's it matter to you, anyway? Keep your mouth shut. I don't need a loose end."