Some random two-paragraph story I wrote as a forum post on DeviantArt. Poor Ramy. Canon? I dunno.
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Ice cubes shifted in the glass of ale after it was set back down on the bar countertop, clattering a bit. Ramy casually wiped a small trail of ale from her mouth with a napkin before putting an elbow on the countertop and resting her cheek on her right hand. She wasn't exactly sure why she was still at the bar; her associate Runge had managed to run off their mafioso client with his drunken antics and now occupied the strobe-lit dance floor nearby, flailing his arms in a sad attempt to dance to the 200-beats-per-minute tune that was being blared at an almost ear-splitting volume by the DJ. There goes another notch on our bounty hunter reputation. THANKS, BUDDY.
She really should have just gone back to the base and taken a nap, leaving Runge behind in his drooling madness. Perhaps a shower would have been better; at least it would have helped to wash off the grimy coating of almost tangible shame she felt for his actions. However, she had taken pity on him and decided to wait a little while longer until he exhausted himself to the point of her being able to drag him back to the base and dump him into the laundry room again.
Roystonn Pruitt, 6/4/14