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Post by Jack on Nov 20, 2012 16:35:40 GMT -8
Solace could always be found for those who look for it. For many such as Jack it was in the filthy underworld bars which had survived the great purge of Barker and his administration.
Sure many had died in the invasion but many more survived, they had been occupied and were always being watched but why should that stop them drinking? A man needed a drink to get through the day, that much has and will never change. There was a resistance as anyone would expect but ultimately every average joe just wanted to get by, work hard and look after his family. Sometimes he wished he was just an ordinary person but he was born different, he had experienced extra ordinary things and has tales worthy of epics.
So here he was drinking crappy liquor and paying an arm and a leg for it but it was worth it in the end anything go dull the world around him was worth it.
"Another one" he croaked as soon as he swallowed the potent liquor "again".
"There was an attack last night." A new comer said as he joined his group of friends "Serious?" Another one called. "Where?" Someone on another table called out "Who was it? Anyone we know?"
The man finally beaten into submission from all the questions gave up and told his story."Okay I didn't see it but I only saw the aftermath. I was told by uhh what's his name Frank something he lives not too long from here we sometimes see him, small guy used to work on that construction site" someone called the name out "Yeah, that's him anyway. As hs says it there were barkers men going around searching houses and all detaining people for questioning on account of all the recent attacks by uhh what's those guys names the Dragons" the tables erupted it seemed the Dragons bore not love from the common people.
Many then went on to list how the Dragon resistence had brought hrdship on their lives. "Nah I don't know about you, but I've seen no Dragons! If you ask me it's all a bloody myth. Just something Barker and their lot cooked up to justify kidnapping people! I've said it they're bloody kidnapping us in the middle of the night like common thugs!"
By now Jack was listening in as were everyone else. "Yeah well they started dragging people out in the streets for what ever reason, because of the Dragons, or the Crows or who ever else fancies themselves heroes. Bottom line is they're retaliating. So yeah as Frank says it, he was dragged out and saw Barker's soldiers loadin people up into their trucks." He paused for a second
"Then they came, he doesn't know who, they didn't say anything, they just attacked and vanished back toward the city. They left none of their dead behind only stayed long enough to ensure that Barker's dogs were all dead." some laughed while others looked worried "If you don't believe me go look or go ask around for yourself, twenty or thirty all dead!"
Someone else called out to him "I just came by that way not thirty minutes ago you old senile man nothing was there!" laughter erupted at the older male went red in the face, but sat down and drank his beer.
Silence fell after that for a short while before people made their way back go their tables. "Another drink, beer, large one." A pint of larger was placed down in front of him and he sipped it quietly.
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Post by Jack on Nov 30, 2012 7:10:06 GMT -8
He lifted the glass to his mouth and sighed as he enjoyed the beer. It was cold, expensive but cold and fresh. That was worth something, he wished that this peace wouldn't end but that wasn't going to be the case.
A man swung at a another man who he was arguing with while the poor bloke was sitting down and drinking his drink. However it was going to be an eye for an eye as soon as the man made contact another person joined the fray.
"Hey! Stop it you two, you're going to wreck the place! Stop! STOP YOU HEAR ME? STOP I SAY!"
But it was no use, they were already fighting, two became four and four eight. Before long the place would be torn apart. The older gentleman was furious but helpless as he saw his life's work being torn apart in front of him.
"Oi old man, how much will pay for me to clear this mob out for you?"
"Anything, name your price!"
"Free alcohol here for life and a job"
"Free alcohol! You'd run me dry! half off... o..only on the weekends!"
"Half off every day and a job"
"Fine half off every day but what sort of job do you want?"
"Partnership... I'll invest a little into this place help you run it for a cut of the profits. We'll discuss the profit margin later. But if you wait too long they're going to tear this place apart."
"Fine you're a crook you hear me! You've totally bent me over and fucked me in the arse but you save my shop and you'll have yourself a deal"
They shook hands and Jack gave the man a sinister grin as he pulled a cigarette out and lit up. Jack moved toward the crowed which had swelled in size. When he was close enough he placed his foot on the table and pushed it with his inhuman strength straight into the crowed. A man rushed him but was met with a elbow uppercut. They stopped fighting and looked at him broken bottles in hand. He pulled out a piece of paper it was a contract "So, here in my hand is a contract which guarantees the payment of 100,000 dollars to who ever claims it." now he had their attention "So if anyone wants it all you have to do is kill me. Outside now" That cleared them out fast enough he turned to the man and called out "nice to meet you, partner" before stepping outside into the street. He was surrounded on all sides by aggressive men the door of the bar had been bared after him to stop him from running.
"So, to save time just all of you come at me at once."
and so it began.
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Nov 30, 2012 22:55:02 GMT -8
Delilah was listening.
Reconnassiance in the neutral territory. Easy enough for a non-descript young woman with black hair and blue eyes to pass unnoticed as she sat in a corner, an untouched glass of watered down whiskey in front of her. She wanted to hear the word, the talk in the what was arguably the last 'free' place in California (subtracting Dragon and Crow territories of course): dive bars, the dwindling last of their kind, surviving on trade and the virtually useless American dollar.
A cloak draped over her head would be too cliche. Instead, her hair hung in a loose curtain of ebony, partially concealing her face as she sat in the shadowed corner of the bar, listening. She wore a loose dark green hoodie over a grey tank top, jeans underneath, sneakers on her feet. Her three knives and a couple other implements were hidden on her person, out of sight. It wouldn't do to be dressed in her regular gear, not in places like this, not where desperation was high and people were afraid. The last time she had come to Neutral territory, two of Barker's experiments had come looking for her...and Orion. That had also been the last (and first time in five years) she had been in a bar.
After that incident, though, she recognized the area as a hub for story swapping, much like she was hearing tonight with the dissension against the Dragons and the fear of being approached by Barker forces. The slightest of frowns marred her pale face before it smoothed back into an expressionless mask. She wasn't here to get involved, just to observe.
Fortunetly, tonight there was a lot to observe. A fight quickly broke out and Delilah was close enough to hear the exchange between the Irish man at the bar and the bar keeper, ending in him taking the fight outside with a hundred thousand dollar slip of paper. Delilah got up to follow the crowd out, slipping in and hanging by the fringes, hanging back as the group attacked him.
She wasn't interested in money. Hell, these people were likely attacking him to get the paper and give it to someone who could offer them food or shelter or protection from Barker. Maybe give it to Barker himself as a barter tool for currying favour.
But she would just observe from the sidelines, watching carefully, watching this strange man who just inherited half a bar and took on all the angry patrons within. Wondering why. Wondering why she got a strangely empty feeling from him as he fought. Wondering why he seemed 'full' at the same time.
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Post by Jack on Nov 30, 2012 23:21:20 GMT -8
They rushed him, the first man came at him and crashed his shoulder into Jack trying to tackle him to the ground. Not today son he thought as he pivoted around on the spot and flung the man off of him, he almost danced around as a boxer bobs. Laughing enjoying the thrill of it. "How about this, I'll give you all free hits? But you have to promise me something. Make me bleed!"
While they were all men, big and strong they were just ordinary men, he didn't quite feel like killing his new patrons so maybe it was best that he take the fall.
Three of them rushed at him now and this time after some struggles they were able to get him to the floor, the first man to try and straddle him to pin him down was met with a knee to the groin. The next he palmed off as he tried to get to his feet. Lunging at the third man and pushing off of him in a heart beat.
"Honestly, It's almost as if you lot want to fuck me. I'm not a pretty lady fellas so if you're interested in some tail I suggest you run off and bark up some other tree" he glanced at Delilah not because he knew who she was but because she was the first woman that caught his eye. Yes that would just be like him, throw the lamb to the pack of wolves in this case a lamb being a pretty girl. "But that would just make you all look like some bitches." he continued to taunt them.
More and more men came at him, it would have been easy had he not had one of the people he dealt with earlier jump on him from behind holding his arms down. Before he could deal them them they were all onto him, bodies crashed into him, fists and even a few bottles or bricks were used as weapons. His blood ran as he was dropped to the floor only to be met with kicks. He did his best to protect himself, his head and neck mainly. The rest of his body was a strong as iron. It didn't take long for the drunk ones to give up or fall over. They laughed at him, taunted him as he lay on the floor defeated.
"Is that all?" Jack spat out some blood as he got onto all fours trying to stand up. "Stay down you little shit!" a person called as he went to soccer kick Jack in the face, but for the first time the lad showed his speed, his true speed. Thrusting up Jack corkscrewed around the man and in one swift motion took out his cleaver and slammed the back end into the man's skull. He was taken off of his feet by the force of the blow. "I told you... I'd give you all free hits all you had to do was make me bleed. Well you've passed now do you guys know what your prize is?" his bloody grin was sinister in all aspect "that's right blood deserve blood".
Fear spread like wild fire, they had never seen a man take a beating such as that and be able to stand. But truth be told in comparison to even the weakest fighters Jack had grown up with, this crowed posed no threat. "So... if you still would like to stay who wants to die first?"
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Nov 30, 2012 23:40:41 GMT -8
Delilah just watched intently, silently, how the man moved, how he took hits. He caught her eye for a brief moment as he spoke of the thugs he was fighting to look somewhere else for their 'tail'. Her eyebrow arched slightly, but that was all. She wasn't going to get involved unless called out directly. Her orders were clear on that.
She watched him get taken down, kicked and beaten soundly for some minutes. The mechanic almost lost interest then, beginning to think this man was all talk and no walk. Disappointing, actually. He had started out quite well.
Then, a surprise as the men who were beating him began to fall away, clearly exhausted from their exertions.
"Is that all?"
Her eyebrows went up. He was still kicking after all that? Perhaps she had misjudged him...
"Stay down you little shit!"
With speed that seemed impossible for this man who had just received a thorough beating, he was on his feet, drawing a blade and whacking it against the thugs head in a brutal motion, sending the man flying. Her blue eyes rested on the man for a moment before turning back towards the Irishman with the cleaver, growing curiouser and curiouser.
"I told you... I'd give you all free hits all you had to do was make me bleed. Well you've passed now do you guys know what your prize is? that's right blood deserve blood".
Delilah felt the fear ripple through the crowd, felt a chill of it herself. His intent, his desire to murder was palpable. She suppressed a shiver, still very much aware of her surroundings, but otherwise, staying out of it. Unless she was dragged into it, of course.
"So... if you still would like to stay who wants to die first?"
The raven haired mechanic's eyes flicked over the remaining patrons of the bar, half expecting them to run. If they were smart, they would. But she was curious. And she was unable to stop the slaughter otherwise what with her orders and all.
Though she was beginning to have second thoughts about those...
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Post by Jack on Dec 4, 2012 13:28:01 GMT -8
OOC: I have not forgotten about this thread, I'll get a reply up asap.
Just listing what I'm going to do so you can think of a reply.
IC:
One man among the crowed had finally gained some courage and rushed at him, Jack's grip on his blade tightened but he would not use it yet. If it came down to it and he had to cleave a few limbs off he would do it later as a last resort once he started hacking away there was no going back. So instead of his blade lodged into the man's skull the first victim was dealt with by a stronger shoulder. Slamming his full weight into the man he took him off his feet before stomping firmly down onto his skull. He wasn't dead but he was out and wouldn't wake for some time.
"There, the first brave one has fallen now stop wasting my time" The look in his eyes craved blood, several droplets of his own had crept down his brow and down his nose.
Another one came from his side, turning swift his grabbed him with his large hands that would put a black smith to shame and pulled him closer before burying his elbow into his face. Using the hilt of his blade a weapon his brought it down onto the man's skull for good measure.
He stalked toward the crowd moving more like a gladiator in the Colosseum than an ordinary brawler on the streets. Despite being outnumbered he had his years of experience under his belt and was well armed. At the end of the day all he was fighting were drunkards hardly a test for a Dragon but a test none the less. I will not kill any of them... heh if I were Leon I'd do that and only use a finger he had fond memories of his peer Leon fighting battles with impossible odds just to test himself, but he was not Leon.
Before long he was set upon again and again, wave after wave coming at him, always threatening to overpower him. Every time he swung his cleaver you could help but ask is this the time when Jack cleaves off someones head but it never came. Jack used everything at his disposal, grabbing men by the shirts and throwing them into someone else. What ever he could use to beat down his opponents he did. Every time he struck someone and it didn't rip their limb from their socket he felt a pain inside, the demon had been subdued and was fighting in it's cage.
Only a handful still stood the rest were either knocked out or knocked down and would soon be on their feet, Jack's patients had run out "Enough of this, the next man to face me will die. You've all had your warning my mind is at ease". He turned his blade so the razor sharp end was no longer facing him. That was the last straw, some fled the rest stayed only long enough to pick up those who couldn't walk and help them off.
Clipping his blade back onto his belt he turned to the crowed and growled "either get back inside or leave along with them, we don't want anymore attention than we have to, never know who's watching" of course he was referring to barker and his men. Jack had been in a similar establishment a few months ago with Vetis only to have Barker and his men raid it.
Making his way back to the bar he ordered another drink before calling the owner over. "So, we'll discuss our arrangement later tonight but for now on keep the suppliers you have. My associates have some contacts, when I deliver good on my end and bring in more alcohol and business I expect you to be good on your end and share the profits. Until then we're square and neither owes the other anything. Deal?" the owner looked at him, he didn't like what he saw but the prospect of having more goods to sell on top of the fact that he just witnessed one man defeat a whole mob who threatened to ruin his bushiness it was always good to have those men around. "Deal", they shook hands and that was that.
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Dec 5, 2012 22:19:43 GMT -8
Watching with furious intent, it was starting to become clear that this man --whoever he was-- was not in the market to kill these bar goers. He didn't appear to have any particular, refined style. He seemed to rely solely on instinct and speed: that became more and more clear as he thrashed his opponents, even when they threatened to overwhelm him. Gradually, Delilah relaxed.
"Enough of this, the next man to face me will die. You've all had your warning my mind is at ease"
She watched with interest as the trouble makers fled, some taking the injured with them. A smirk of approval flitted across her lips. Good crowd control. She slipped back into the crowd and followed the remainder of the patrons inside, it being clear that that was where this man was headed next. She let the hood of her sweatshirt fall back as she went back to her table and picked up her untouched drink, walking toward the bar settling in the stool beside the Irishman just as he and the bartender wrapped up their "negotiations".
"That was rather impressive." she said as she took a sip of the alcohol. Delilah was on duty technically, but it took a LOT to get her drunk. The raven haired woman turned her head slightly to fix her blue eyes on him, a curious glint in their depths.
"I haven't seen you around here before."
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Post by Jack on Dec 6, 2012 14:33:51 GMT -8
"That was rather impressive." his plain brown eyes drifted over to the girl who sat down next to him, he never knew beating people up would help you score so he was convinced it wasn't going to happen now. "Thanks" short and sharp that all he wanted to say taking another sip of his beer. "I haven't seen you around here before." letting the liquid drain down his throat before he replied "I've been indisposed for a while" he was still covered in bandages from head to toe.
Everyday his skin improved, everyday the virus infected more and more of his body. He was growing stronger.
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Dec 8, 2012 23:03:31 GMT -8
"I've been indisposed for a while."
The bandages wrapping his body made that quite obvious, though what their purpose was, Delilah couldn't ascertain.
But from the look of things, he wasn't too eager to talk. Or maybe he was just wary of her. That seemed unlikely, but Delilah was not one for ruling out possibilities. In any case, she would simply lift her shoulder in a half shrug as if to say "Have it your way". "Well. Either way, nice job."
Turning back to the front, Delilah would pull a scrap piece of paper and a pen out of her back pocket. One side had a whole bunch of one word notes scrawled all over it, peppered with a random equation or two. She flipped it over to the blank side and began absently sketching "hai" the Japanese kanji for 'ash'. She started with the character for fire --"ka"-- and sketched the 'blanket' on top of it.
That was how her sensei had explained calligraphy to her all those years ago, explaining the radicals and what they meant, showing how they formed a greater picture.
If Jack didn't say anything or just leave, she would simply continue sketching, her next character being "Yuki" or snow. Starting with a cross in the centre to serve as the clouds, would draw the flakes of snow falling on top of the 'rice paddies' beneath.
Just what was on her mind at the moment. The differences between ash, a by product of destruction, and snow, a herald of death and change.
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Post by Jack on Dec 9, 2012 16:34:47 GMT -8
His eyes drifted down to her pad, grimacing as he thought of all the years he had tried to learn how to properly write Kanji and even then all his attempts at studying calligraphy were just wasted.
"I never could write Kanji very well, all the strokes just didn't work well with me. I was even worse at calligraphy I would either have too much ink or too littler ink." he could speak it well enough with a deep western accent that gave it away but when you spoke as many languages as him you tend to have a very weird accent. "i believe my efforts were a 'waste of both time, money, paper and ink' or so I was told. " Jack chuckled at the memories of him laboring away with his mother in local calligraphy classes.
He was so bad he had to attend two one open to everyone beginners and another one only for children. The teacher there was a very cruel and strict man, he assured Jack's mother that if he practiced more and attended more classes as well as private classes he would become very good. A lie of course so he could make a small fortune off of what he was charging. One day Jack just snapped. He grabbed the largest brush in the room a ceremonial one and beat the man over the head with it in front of all the other children. The man cowered in the corner and begged him for mercy.
"Well, that was before I beat him bloody with a brush." laughing again he was sure the idea of a beating by brush was strange "it was a large brush... a very large one" he made a gesture with his hands. "Anyway I never had to touch a brush again and I was this 'star pupil' parents won't all the wiser and I had made the first practical steps onto the path of becoming an evil monster" he sounded almost proud.
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Dec 9, 2012 21:03:00 GMT -8
As he started speaking, Delilah turned her head to listen to the bandaged man with the weird accent(s), her hand still idly sketching the same line over and over. So he knew kanji, then? that was a bit of a surprise; it wasn't uncommon for people to speak Japanese...especially around here, for some reason--but writing the language, especially KANJI which was the most diverse and complicated alphabet of them all, said something about the kind of man he was at least. Cultured, but brash.
What he said after solidified that.
"Well, that was before I beat him bloody with a brush. it was a large brush... a very large one. Anyway I never had to touch a brush again and I was this 'star pupil' parents won't all the wiser and I had made the first practical steps onto the path of becoming an evil monster"
The tone of jovial pride in his voice gave her a moment's pause, but her interest in this man had been piqued and she found herself smiling, laughing with him in spite of the modicum of trepidation that chilled her core. She studied him for a moment, blue eyes alight with curiosity.
"'Evil monster', huh?"
She turned back to the pad and quickly began sketching another character, one he might recognize--the character "kokoro", pronounced "shin", meaning 'heart' in the metaphysical sense. The 'soul', if you will.
As she sketched she would explain; "Sounds like you went to a hell school. I did too; two-five-nine, but I don't recall seeing you there..."
Indeed she hadn't; Delilah had never graduated high school. She had been thrown in jail when she turned eighteen for illicit gang activities and, when "Unfettered" broke her out of the mental asylum, she had been transferred to a safe house where she lived until her son was born.
Finished her sketch, she pushed the paper between them, showing him the character. "You might have seen this one before. It's a common radical in a lot of kanji and by itself, it means 'heart' or 'spirit'...its an attitude, essentially. How you go about things."
Delilah lifted the pen again and drew a new radical on top of 'kokoro'; starting first with the character "ichi" or 'one' at the top, then drawing five boxes known as "kuchi" or 'mouth' to look like a cross. Then she drew another line across the bottom of it, forming a completely new character.
"Now the character becomes 'aku', or 'evil'." She pushed the paper towards him, eyes still bright with interest. Delilah wanted to gauge his reaction, see what his opinion was.
"What does the character look like to you?"
Meaning, basically, 'how does it represent evil'?
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Post by Jack on Dec 10, 2012 19:54:34 GMT -8
"Ah ... well I spent the majority of my school live from Freshmen to senior at Five- Five- Two. Five-hundred and Fifty Two or Five Fifty Two however you want to say it. That's in New York. Hell school wouldn't even begin to describe what that place was, but it was beautiful. Everything happened there, my first kill, my first serious fight, first love, first lord and first gang." He almost went on about how he lost his virginity there but hey, he just met her and this was crazy. "From there I transferred to a school in San Diego and then here. So I either spent my senior year at Seven-Seven- Four and then moved to Two-Five-Nine for college or I was already in college it's been so long since that place had been taken over."
Jack shrugged scratching his arms. He pursed her lips at her question as he stared blankly at her drawing. "To be honest, it means nothing to me. Kanji originated as a picture language ..." He was sure that wasn't it, but he lacked the vocab to explain it any better "So I'm sure when you break it down, and trace it back it will be a picture of something evil or bad. Much like the Kanji for horse." He stretched out his hand for her pen, if she gave it to him, he would write horse in Kanji, very badly and an incorrect stroke order so it looked horrible. He then began to break it down going to older version of the Kanji before drawing a very old horse looking picture. It was as if it were a cave drawing how basic it was. "That's all I can remember, sadly so I guess it must look like some demon or something." He shrugged, Kanji was long gone and unimportant to him. He knew how to speak Japanese and that was all he needed to know. The formalities were unimportant, he rarely met people who demanded more authority than him so it really didn't matter and if he did he just called them Sama or Dono and apologized for his horrible Japanese and used a translator.
He really didn't like Japanese it was too strict and too affectionate, in that sense it's why he loved Greek. Everything could be turned into a sign of affection.
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Dec 10, 2012 20:29:51 GMT -8
She let him take the pen, watched him sketch 'uma' and destroy the character with the incorrect placement of strokes. Delilah laughed softly at the valiant attempt, but it didn't bother her that he got that bit of it wrong, not after the story he told about how he had come to loathe calligraphy. Besides, the character was recognizable; it did indeed look like a horse with a rider.
"If you trace it back far enough, yeah, but kanji have changed over the last thousand years or so. The Japanese adopted it from the Chinese, so there are many ways and interpretations of a character." she tapped the paper before them. "I'll tell you what I see, since that top radical part technically means nothing. It looks like five mouths that are trapped inside a container, maybe depicting sickness. The bottom part means 'heart', right? So, I see this as 'one who is ill at heart'."
Unlike him, Delilah adored Japanese; it was a beautiful language of subtlety and stoic resolve. It reflected her own way of going about things as well.
Her eyes flicked up to him, still curious about him and his reactions, wanting to see if he thought the way she saw the character described him. No matter what his reaction, Delilah would offer him a slight smile and extend her oil blackened palm out to him for a hand shake. "I'm Delilah, by the way."
Whether or not he gave her his name, the mechanic would continue to keep her eyes on him for a moment before asking, "So, you were at Five-five-two? By any chance, you wouldn't have met a man named 'Marcus Prasad' there would you?""
She could have mentioned others she knew who went to 552; Kiyoshi, Mathew and Leon just for starters...but Marcus seemed to know everybody, so it seemed a bit more likely.
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Post by Jack on Dec 10, 2012 21:16:17 GMT -8
Studying what she said "I guess that's a very naive view point. Culturally they are very weary of admitting anything is 'wrong' that people are simply ill. You see it all over Asia in the way they treat mental illness. For example my home country Australia is very close to Indonesia, very differently culturally but it'll suffice for my example."
"Depression is considered on par with being possessed by devils. They can not comprehend that some people are different. Similarly the Japanese view evil in people as an illness I see it as just the way people are. You are neither good nor bad in the start you're simply you. What ever your genetic code is at the time that's what you are. Then you change over time, if evil is and illness of the heart then on the other side being good must also be one."
He looked up into her eyes at the mention of Marcus for a second he felt like hitting her and ripping her throat out at the mention of Marcus. There was fond memories of him but he never forgave him for abandoning him. Jack had lost everyone, his brother, his master, his best friend.
Marcus had gone through an equally rough time but Jack bleed for that man, he fought beside him and he followed him. Given there was bad blood between them at the time they were rivals but allies none the less. "Aye I know him" bitter tension hung on every single word, he knew she wouldn't be satisfied with that so he went on. "A brother born in blood." he mused "from the day we entered to the day we left our lives were bound in some odd way" he chuckled at the idea of the old grizzly bear. Still he knew there would be more questions there was always questions with women, it's all they do. Yap Yap Yap. "If Stein was the man, Marcus was the right arm and I was the blade that was wielded in our rebellion of sorts."
His mind drifted off to the battle as it turned against them, Marcus was a general like no other, he was not exceptional at anything and that balance is what made him the most formidable of opponents. "If I could describe him I would say he was mediocre ... no ... exceptionally mediocre." Jack chuckled "Jack of all trades, the master of none" he said in a chirpy voice. The alcohol began to pulsate through him effecting his attitude for the better.
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Dec 14, 2012 21:35:14 GMT -8
He didn't take her hand or respond to her giving her name, so she shrugged and simply put her hand back down on the counter palm down. She hadn't taken him for the sort to give names anyway.
The aura of murderous intent that rolled off him as she mentioned Marcus' name made her hand drop reflexively to the calf of her leg where the hilt of her knife was. Her fingers hovered there for a moment as his eyes bored into hers. Finally, the tension dissipated.
"Aye I know him. A brother born in blood. from the day we entered to the day we left our lives were bound in some odd way"
Slowly, the mechanic relaxed, carefully bringing her hand back up to her thigh. Her fingers drummed restlessly against the fabric of her jeans as she listened to him. The way he spoke about Marcus was...bitter-sweet. At least, that was how it sounded to her ears. Like brothers who didn't always get along. He sounded a little more at ease at any rate.
But as she watched him, she became less and less easy in his presence. There was a lot of him that reminded her of Stu; nevermind the drinking in a bar scenario, it was his attitude, the...duality about him that she could only JUST put her finger on before the real cause slipped out of her grasp.
Out of habit, she took a quick swig of the whiskey and grimaced. Better quality than what she'd had before, but still watered down. "A fly couldn't get drunk off of this," she muttered, pushing the glass away from herself with the back of her hand. She shouldn't be drinking while on the job anyway. "That's interesting," she said in a measured voice as he finished speaking about Marcus. "He's actually a good...friend of mine." she winced as she forced herself to say 'FRIEND' when her connection to Marcus ran far deeper than that. So deep that a shiver raced up her spine.
She wouldn't admit it, though, not so long as Stu was still a recent memory. Though whether or not the man sitting beside her picked up on that or the slight change in her demeanour (as well as a slightly creeping pink hue upon her cheeks) would be up to his powers of observation.
Right. Subject change.
"...if you don't mind my asking...what's up with the bandages?" she inquired, gesturing to him with a wave of her hand.
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