"You ever seen a fine piece of cheesecake? No, not like the dessert. I mean like," he used his hands to gesture a woman's curves in the air. "You know, a real gorgeous woman, like one of those old pinups. The kind of woman who's so gorgeous a man would do something real stupid like walk across the desert to find her. The kind of beauty that would make you let her fuck you over just to fuck her. The kind of doll that would make you forgive het with just a look from those doe eyes of hers. You ever seen that kind of woman?"

The man behind the grungy and rundown shop still had his hands raised as he shook his head no violently back and forth. "Look man, I haven't seen no kinda girl like that, like, ever man. I don't want no trouble alright?" he eyed the sawed-off shotgun the stranger had leveled right at his gut. The man looked to be in his mid-twenties, tall, thin, but the shopkeep suspected there was muscle hidden in that thin frame. Like a spring, once uncoiled, this man would put you to the dirt before your eyes could tell what happened. His clothes were made well, but worn and covered in sand and grit from the long road. He looked dangerous on all accounts.

The stranger sighed. "Look, Eli, was it? I'm a reasonable man and half of Last Home says they saw a knock-out of a woman come in here and try to sell you something. I know you're trying to protect her, but trust me, she doesn't need your protection. If anything I'm trying to protect you from her! Now, she stole something real important from me, and I intend to get it back. Now, either you tell me what you know as a friend, or I start making your life a lot shorter and a lot more painful."

The stranger didn't look angry or annoyed or any other sort of emotion Eli would expect in a stick up. No, when he looked into those piercing blue eyes he saw only a calmness and, boredom? This man held strangers at gunpoint like other men swept the floor or did the dishes. Eli decided this was not the time or the place to make a stand. Hell, he had only said a handful of words to the woman and she'd been asking for a crazy price for some old tech that looked like junk to him. "She's staying at an old farmhouse just outside town. If you walk to the end of the road by the saloon, it'll be the wood building on the other side of the field."

Max lowered his shotgun and genuinely smiled at the terrified shopkeep. "I'm always glad to meet a sensible man, Eli. Here," he placed wad of crumpled cash onto the countertop, "for your troubles, friend." With that, he turned and left the shop, holstering the shotgun on his lower back beneath the dark duster he wore. He had tracked the femme fatale that had stolen his hand terminal over the Rockies and across the wasteland but he was about to take back what was his.

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Thanks for reading! This is a post-apocalyptic roleplay where the world has gone to shit and technology is a thing of the past. Think, wild west meets Mad Max. We can do some more world building/character descriptions over PM but basically my character is a bounty hunter who's computer that links him to the organization that hires him was stolen by a woman. Why? Well, that's up to us to figure out.