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Post by Game Master on Jan 9, 2014 23:05:35 GMT -6
The pulsating lights of Chora's Den are in rhythm with the dance beat, adding to the erotic dancing of the Asari. Scantly dressed dancers writhe for the enjoyment of the customers, their bodies on display for all to see. It was just your average night at one of the more popular gentleman's club at the Wards. Chora's Den finally reopened about a week ago, now under new management and just as lively as ever.
A well dressed older man sat in a comfortable lounge chair near the entrance, setting his drink down on the short circular table before him. He was a handsome man, his graying hair was the only thing indicating his age. He sat casually, one leg crossed over the other... leaning back and relaxed. His dark brown eyes glanced between the lithe Asari dancer and the entrance, waiting for the first arrival.
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Post by Maelstrom on Jan 10, 2014 1:06:07 GMT -6
A human male in his mid-twenties walks in. His blue eyes quickly scan the room, quickly taking in the scene, identifying each threat in the room, from the Krogan man in the back corner to each patron's sidearms. Between his manner and the custom-made medium armor, a matte black without any discernible markings, he is clearly accustomed to dangerous situations. An assault rifle and sniper rifle are close at hand, on mounts located at the shoulder blades of his armor. A unique submachine gun rests on his hip. He runs his hand through his thick inch-long brown hair as he crosses his way to the bar, taking a seat with a clear view of both the well-dressed man and the entrance.
Rather than express any interest in the well-dressed man, he sits and calmly orders a rye whiskey and coke from the bartender. Her lithe body doesn't seem to attract his interest either. He merely takes the drink when delivered, gives her the credits plus a generous tip, and sips slowly at the drink. Between each sip, he sets the glass down and draws the drink to his other hand using biotics. Prior to lifting glass to his lips again, he finishes the ritual by briefly taking in the scene again, as if to reassure himself that he wasn't missing the smallest deadly detail.
Though people talk of Chora's Den as a place to unwind after a day's work, none of the other patrons seem calm in quite the same way as the man in the black armor.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 10, 2014 3:20:07 GMT -6
The armed Turian mercenary approached the entrance to Chora's Den, with an unimpressed expression on his face. He really didn't care for this place; behind all of the dancers, things seemed rather shady here, but then again, not as bad as other places around the Citadel. He hasn't been here on the Citadel in years, not since his father became a Spectre when Arcturus was a small child. For a moment while he stepped into the lounge, he thought about his father, and wondered if he was on another assignment or was here on the Citadel somewhere.
'Maybe I should see what he's up to if I get the chance...'
He thought silently to himself as his sharp green eyes peered around his surroundings cautiously, as if he were expecting trouble, but he looked rather stoic before walking over to the bar to order a glass of alcohol he was able to drink without getting sick or end up dying. He sighed, glancing briefly at each patron in here as he waited for the bar tender to fix his drink. He gave a nod at the bar tender when she returned to him with the glass full of a bluish liquor.
"Thank you," He said quietly, paying her some credits before taking a sip of the liquid. As the liquid gave that very warm, burning sensation all the way down, he looked for his contact; which would've been a lot harder if the human man didn't give him details on where he was going to sit or look like.
'Humans...they all look the same to me...' He thought, bringing the glass with him as he headed over to stand in front of the man for a moment to introduce himself, but mostly to make sure this was the right person.
"Esteban Bridges?" He asked, and then introduced himself, "Arcturus Tilo."
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Post by Esteban Bridges on Jan 10, 2014 14:26:25 GMT -6
Esteban sat regally in his chair, observing the Asari dancer as if she was a curiosity than an object of desire. Today was business, not pleasure. He straightened the knot of his black tie and adjusted his dark blazer, making sure his appearance was scrupulous. He was attractive for human standards, freshly shaven and well groomed.
He turned his head away from the lithe Asari toward the well armored and equipped Turian. He gave him the once over, accessing the offensive potential of this one. Esteban looked impressed. He rose up to his feet as the mercenary approached. The Asari did not stop her erotic dance, trying to win back some attention.
"Esteban Bridges?" He asked, and then introduced himself, "Arcturus Tilo."
Esteban extended his right hand. "Pleasure," he responded in a casual tone, greeting the first arrival. "I see you have a drink already."
[insert reply, if needed. Also assuming Arcturus shook Esteban's hand]
Esteban nodded, gesturing to an open seat next to him. "Please," he offered the seat. Esteban was a man of few words, that much was quite clear about him. It was not awkward though, he seemed to say only as much as to get the message across.
"You come highly recommended. What have you heard about this mission?"
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Post by Kershaw on Jan 10, 2014 15:20:09 GMT -6
At this moment the colourful Krogan swaggered in, his bright gold and red armour standing out in the gloomily lit "gentleman's club", Kershaw had to admit to himself he preferred the more vibrant atmosphere of Afterlife or Dark Star, but he decided any place was good for a drink, he goes and sits at the bar knocking aside two other patrons as he does so.
"Just a Ryncol for me darling"
he says with a grin, the knocked patrons shuffle away in annoyance, when the drink is given Kershaw sits in contentment, he wasn't concerned with such small details as "what the contact looked like" and was sure that if they wanted him, they could spot him themselves, subtly was not a strong point of his.
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Post by Maelstrom on Jan 10, 2014 16:56:04 GMT -6
The man in the black armor smiles to himself. A krogan and a turian, both loaded for heavy combat. For both to show up so close to the same time, both loaded for bear, isn't likely to be coincidence. A smile flashes across his lips for a moment. Diverse crews are always more interesting. He quietly chuckles to himself before taking another sip of his drink and resuming his repetitive routine of passing the glass back and forth as he scans the room.
An old fictional work he enjoys comes to mind. Another grin passing his lips for an instant, he whispers, "Infinite diversity in infinite combinations."
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Post by Deleted on Jan 10, 2014 17:27:08 GMT -6
Esteban extended his right hand. "Pleasure," he responded in a casual tone, greeting the first arrival. "I see you have a drink already."
Arcturus nodded, shaking the man's hand with a firm grip. "Indeed." He then gave the other man a nod, followed by a simple, "Hello."
He glanced over at the Krogan who arrived and sat at the bar, and wondered if the newest arrival was another patron or another one that was going to join them on this mission. He didn't mind their race, nor humans like most of his kind do.
"Hmm..."
'A Krogan would come in handy...' He thought, but equally hoped he wouldn't cause too much trouble. He had a feeling that the Krogan wouldn't trust him, but then again, neither will he at first.
The Turian sat down in the empty seat Esteban gestured to, he placed the drink gently onto the table-top after taking another swig of the liquor. Leaning over a bit, and resting his arm on the table and a hand on his knee, he returned his attention to the man.
"You come highly recommended. What have you heard about this mission?"
"Only enough to peak my interest," he went on, "I've read that you had a dig site that was attacked and taken over by the Collectors. Hmm...the Collectors are an enigmatic bunch. Never encountered them, but I've encountered some pirates out in Terminus Space who have." He shrugged a little. "It's quite the question as to why they took over your dig site."
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Post by DevilmanXS on Jan 10, 2014 22:45:55 GMT -6
A man bearing well used but well maintained Alliance armor approaches the bar, stopping just before the door and looking at the sign, sighing to himself and half whispers to himself "always end up at the nicest places.." shaking his head with a slight grin upon his face he ends his revelry and enters the bar, glancing about for the one he sought. Standing just before the doorway, his pistol and submachine gun were clipped to the sides of his hips, ready for use, his eyes lingering a second or two upon seeing the Krogan in the room, but his attention diverts when he sees a well dressed gentleman talking to a Turian. 'Hm..' he thinks to himself, 'too well dressed for a dive like this..'.
He then ends his survey of the room and makes his way to the bar on the other side of the well dressed man, speaking first to the bartender "I'll have a whiskey darlin, on the rocks" and puts down some credits before looking at the well dressed gentleman, "Esteban Bridges I presume?" He says in a smooth and friendly tone before nodding to the Turian, "apologies for interrupting."
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Post by Esteban Bridges on Jan 11, 2014 0:07:12 GMT -6
Esteban casually reached over, clamping his ringed fingers around the rim of his glass. He subtly rolled his wrist, swirling the ice within the glass around the amber hued liquid within. The ice clinked against the thick glass, creating a pleasant sound for Esteban.
He followed the Turian's gaze over to the Krogan donned in red and gold armor. He recognized the colors almost immediately from Kershaw's profile. Krogans, he mused, admiring the brazen challenge the armor presented. Esteban stared, hoping Kershaw would make eye contact. He wanted to get the meeting started. He knew mercenaries liked to hang back for a bit to size up their employer and he tried to respect that, but it gets annoying very quickly when he a mission needed to begin. He turned back to Arcturus when he began to speak, noticing the human in black armor at the bar out of the corner of his eye. Esteban gave a brief nod to the man to acknowledge his presence.
"Only enough to peak my interest," Arcturus went on, "I've read that you had a dig site that was attacked and taken over by the Collectors. Hmm...the Collectors are an enigmatic bunch. Never encountered them, but I've encountered some pirates out in Terminus Space who have." He shrugged a little. "It's quite the question as to why they took over your dig site."
"I want to know," Esteban confessed, taking a sip of his alcohol. "They struck before major excavation began."
Before the conversation could continue, Esteban noticed one of the mercenaries approaching him wearing Alliance armor.
"Esteban Bridges I presume?" He says in a smooth and friendly tone before nodding to the Turian, "apologies for interrupting."
Esteban rose up from his chair to meet this new man, extending his hand. "Pleasure," he replied, shaking the man's armored hand. He gestured to an empty seat. "Please, join us."
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Post by Maelstrom on Jan 11, 2014 2:07:28 GMT -6
The man in the black armor sighs, tapping his right ear. There is a fine line between observing a contact before meeting and scarring them off... or angering them. He preferred to be the first one to arrive at a job's initial meeting and the last to join in. Today, it seems, fortune is only mildly on his side. Slapping down a some more credits on the bar, he speaks with the bartender again, before downing his drink.
A moment later, the woman comes back with two drinks. The one was a another rye whiskey and coke. The other was a muted green.
As he passes the Krogan merc, he sets the green glass down on the bar next to him. "Ryncol. The good stuff. Not the stuff they serve us aliens." Nodding at the well dressed man, he said quietly, "I'm pretty sure this is our man. I know you'll come in your own time, but the more suits like yours I see around, the more comfortable I am around suits like his."
He crosses the room, quickly checking in all directions one more time before reaching the group. Even though he has been watching the group carefully, it's as though he was still expecting trouble of some sort.
Stopping just far enough away from the other men to discourage any attempts at a handshake or being offered a seat but close enough to be easily heard, he says with a curt but respectful nod, "Mr. Esteban. I'm Maelstrom."
Nodding to the turian, he says, "Mr. Tilo. I've heard of some of your work. Always nice to have someone else on a job who actually knows what they're doing." Before anyone can bring up the question of how he knows the Acturus' name, he points to a small black device inserted in his right ear. "Picked it up on a mission some time back. Not good at long range, but it's enough to pick up conversation across a room."
Turning back to Esteban, he says, "I understand if you want to wait for the rest of your 'hired hands,' but I wanted to say, I'm interested to hear the details of this job you have. As you may have heard, I'm very particular about the contracts I take. The Broker knows this but was rather insistent that I hear you out anyway. This tells me this is not just your standard job."
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Post by Kershaw on Jan 11, 2014 3:23:51 GMT -6
The Krogan does not notice when his contact is name dropped, nor does he notice the mysterious man in black that passes him, what he does notice however is the drink put at his side, Kershaw then looks to its deliverer "Ryncol. The good stuff. Not the stuff they serve us aliens." the man nods off to someone else, Kershaw follows his gaze, it settles on the well dressed man, "I'm pretty sure this is our man. I know you'll come in your own time, but the more suits like yours I see around, the more comfortable I am around suits like his." Kershaw gives a nod of recognition, but lets the man leave and engage the others in conversation, he downs his two drinks before walking over to the meeting, the first thing he hears is "This tells me this is not just your standard job."
The Krogan grins "Just how I like it"
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Post by Deleted on Jan 11, 2014 7:05:05 GMT -6
Iskra watched from the deep of shadow as people entered and exited the loud club. Man after man, alien after alien, all armed to the teeth as they swaggered in as if they owned the place. She could only imagine which ones were the few she would have to share a ship with, the pit of her stomach told her that the impossible to miss Krogan was one of them.
She could not believe she had let Corwin talk her into this, she was the furthest thing from mercenary and she had enough memories of death to haunt her for a lifetime. Her mind flashed with the human’s exhausted face and she sighed. Benewan had only died last night and even as she talked to Corwin this morning she could tell he was barely holding it together.
A heart monitor beeping in the corner. The smell of yanesa flowers native to Kahje emanating from the vase in the corner. A dying Benewan in the bed, struggling to breath. “Please Iskra…help him with my passing.”
The drell blinked the memory away, wiping off the few tears on her face. She had to look out for River for him, she could not help him with Benewan, she would help him now.
Moving quietly out of the shadows, she strode over towards the door, only to jump to the side as it opened, pressing herself against the wall. Her heart beating in her head, there were too many places to get cornered, not enough exits to escape through, so many people…
She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself down. The pistol at her side was a comforting weight and she could see the bright lights of her full shield along her belt. She took comfort in knowing she could observe the group before approaching and that it was rare for gun fights to happen on the Citadel.
With renewed strength, Iskra walked through the door of the club and straight to the bar, taking the seat the shortest distance from the door. She restrained herself from making a face as a woman dressed less than covering clothes walked over to her.
“What can I get you, sugar?”
“Elasa” With a nod, the woman poured her a glass of the liquor and left. Iskra didn’t touch the drink in front of her as she scanned the room for Corwin’s contact.
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Post by DevilmanXS on Jan 11, 2014 9:01:29 GMT -6
Shaking Esteban's hand Kyle nods, accepting his offer and speaks as he takes the seat offered, "some..certain parties that I have worked for told me you would be in the market for some protection..." sparing a glance at the menagerie of dangerous looking individuals "..and I take it this is no small task, seeing as you're keen on hiring yourself a squad."
He nods his open-faced helmet at the Turian and black armored individuals accordingly and gives a long look at the Krogan before giving a similar nod.
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Post by Shala'Bekk vas Neema on Jan 11, 2014 9:56:18 GMT -6
The door slid open and a quarian female, dressed in a blue environmental suit common to her people, slipped in, immediately sliding to one side and keeping close to the wall, reaching out and touching it as if to assure that it was there.
She started moving forward, still keeping close to the wall, before being stopped by a batarian but thankfully his back was to her and was deep in conversation with a krogan. She stopped, assessing the space between him and the wall. Having grown up in the tight confines of the Migrant Fleet, navigating tight spaces was second nature to her, so she darted forward.
But that was the same time the batarian shifted backward, making the space too small even for her, and she bumped into him. He whirled around with surprising speed, his eyes searching for the threat as his hand produced a massive pistol.
His four eyes settled on her. “What’s your problem, scavenger?” he said, emphasizing the last word as if to make it something profane.
“Sorry,” she said, trying to slide by, but his free hand lashed out and grabbed her left arm.
“I’ve killed for a lot less than being bumped into,” he snarled, pushing the gun barrel up to her faceplate. “You know, I’ve always wondered what you quarians look like under those helmets.”
Looking at the batarian, even with the gun barrel barely an inch from her face, all she could think about was how they processed the input from four eyes. And then she realized the his mistake.
The blast of fire shot from her omni-tool on her right forearm, zipping past the batarian’s face and slamming into the ceiling. The batarian cried out in pain, backing away and clutching his eyes.
Her hands now free, she pulled the geth plasma shotgun from the small of her back, popped it open into its operational configuration and charged it, but did not fire; she knew that would end in losing the job she had been contacted for.
“You bitch, you blinded me!” the batarian screamed.
“It was on its lowest setting, your sight should return in time…I think,” she said.
One of the krogan bouncers finally made his way over to the batarian, grabbing him and pushing him towards the door.
“What are you hassling me for, she shot first!” the batarian yelled.
“A quarian picking a fight with a batarian, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all day,” the bouncer rumbled, pushing him again.
The krogan that was talking with the batarian watched his unceremonious exit, then turned to her. “You’ve got a quad on you,” he said. “You looking for work?”
“Not right now,” she said.
“When you’re done with your latest job, come by Tuchanka and find Clan Urdnot, there’s plenty of work for someone who knows more than just killing,” he said and left.
She watched him leave, then powered down her shotgun, collapsed it and returned it to the small of her back. She made her way to the human that was her contact, still staying close to the wall.
The other patrons gave her a wide berth.
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Post by Kershaw on Jan 11, 2014 10:35:10 GMT -6
Kershaw looks at the new arrival to the group, after having witnessed the affair his grin just gets bigger. "Nice!" he says to the quarian in approval.
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Post by Maelstrom on Jan 11, 2014 12:56:18 GMT -6
Maelstrom chuckles. "Bosh'tet had it coming. He's been talking himself up to that Urdnot rep since he got here, telling him about how impressive his accomplishments as a slaver have been. The fool didn't realize that true krogan warriors have no respect for slavers. It's about what you can do with your own brawn and the passion in your heart, or about the loyalty you can inspire in your clan. Eh, it was good to see he got what he deserved."
Still keeping his distance from the others, he allows a smile as he says, "Always a pleasure to meet a member of the Migrant Fleet. I'm Maelstrom."
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Post by Kershaw on Jan 11, 2014 14:04:22 GMT -6
"... uh...Yeah, what he said"
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Post by dargene on Jan 11, 2014 14:27:41 GMT -6
The Door to the club slides open and a salarian walks in, as the door closes behind him he stands fully upright and takes in his surroundings, blinking a few times before taking a deep breath in then exhaling "Ahh No real change.. good good" He mutters to himself before walking up to the bar, he notices a (Generic)human talking to another human at the bar, turning his cloak on he slips over and takes the drink from him at the bar while his back is turned, gaining distance before his cloak power drains.
Walking over to the weaving in and out of people gracefully and sits down as silently as he came in, he sits down (assuming there is seating) and places his drink on the edge of the table "Greetings" he says "Meldom Wake, Pleasure" he nods to the three at the table and starts to sip his drink while checking things on his omni tool.
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Post by Eric Lysander on Jan 11, 2014 15:30:03 GMT -6
He strolled in just past the entrance to Chora’s Den and paused, dressed in silver combat armor; sidearm, assault and sniper rifles retracted and clipped to his side and back. He started to bob and pop in time with the music twirling his fists in front of him, his eyes following some of the dancers and waitresses on their rounds. An asari passed in front of him with a tray of drinks when he stuck his hand out to stop her. Her head whipped about to catch the human putting on his widest smile and flashing his eyes brightly. Apparently he knew this asari from a previous encounter. The music drowned out the conversation but it was evident that he was hoping to pick up where he left off with her. The waitress responded with a sound smack across his jaw.
The human's face fell somewhat and mouthed an apology. He held up his left forearm, activating his omni-tool. Turning his palm upwards a holopic appeared of Esteban Bridges' picture. He nudged it at the asari who pointed out the businessman's seat right behind him before quickly stalking off to deliver her order. He was still for a moment as Esteban and his entourage took note of his presence. He felt a bit self-conscious and stroked his cheek, wondering if they had also seen the waitress rebuffing his attentions. He turned about to face them.
“I can assure you she meant that affectionately.” He gestured towards himself. “Eric Lysander. I’m here about the job.”
He pointed towards Esteban and then directed his finger over the others.
"I know your face... not sure about the rest of the class on this field trip..."
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Post by Esteban Bridges on Jan 11, 2014 16:16:06 GMT -6
Esteban liked Kyle. He was not sure why, but something about him felt genuine. In the mercenary business, so many hid their true selves. Anytime he met someone who felt like they were being themselves, he took note. "some..certain parties that I have worked for told me you would be in the market for some protection..." sparing a glance at the menagerie of dangerous looking individuals "..and I take it this is no small task, seeing as you're keen on hiring yourself a squad."
"It is necessary," Esteban replied, gesturing to one of the few open seats around the lovely Asari dancer. "One that I hope to explain shortly."
Esteban greeted the one who called himself Maelstrom with a brief polite smile and a handshake. He could tell a lot about someone from the way they shook hands, sometimes far more than any dossier could show. He had a firm, powerful handshake. Esteban liked that.
"I understand if you want to wait for the rest of your 'hired hands,'" Maelstrom said to Esteban, but loud enough for the group at large. "But I wanted to say, I'm interested to hear the details of this job you have. As you may have heard, I'm very particular about the contracts I take. The Broker knows this but was rather insistent that I hear you out anyway. This tells me this is not just your standard job."
Esteban subtly nodded. "With Collectors, nothing is standard," he replied briefly, agreeing with the man.
"Just how I like it," grinned the brightly colored Krogan. Esteban turned toward Kershaw, about to extend his hand for a greeting but thought better of it. The headbutt was the favored way of greeting, one that he did not relish in doing. So rather, Esteban bowed slightly, showing a form of respect. At least he hoped it was, if he remembered Krogan culture right.
"Please," the businessman made a sweeping gesture to the open seats, one of them Krogan-sized. The dancer continued her erotic display, still on display for everyone to enjoy. Esteban would have pitied the Asari dancer, as very few were paying attention to her, except that he gave her a sizable tip already. She was already taken care of.
The commotion at the entrance to Chora's Den caught his attention. Unfortunately, Esteban missed most of it, but from the wide birth many patrons were given the approaching female Quarian, it was most likely violent and impressive. If he remembered correctly, her name was Shala’Bekk. All he could hope was that this Quarian would not attempt to pick his pockets like the dozens of others that he knew before. She seemed to carry herself better than others. At least she had a style shotgun that was not common; it spoke well of her.
"Nice," Kershaw approved, clearly amused by the exchange. Esteban breathed an internal sigh of relief, glad he did not have to do the traditional headbutt. And maybe, he could get away with not shaking the Quarian's hand. He didn't have anything against Quarians. He just found he had to wash his hands frequently. He was especially glad when Maelstrom stepped up and spoke. All that Esteban had to do was nod a greeting to the Quarian, gesturing to an open seat.
That was when he noticed the next contact, this one did not come from the Broker. She came highly recommended from the financier funding this mission. Esteban did not receive her dossier until recently, so he did not have time to memorize the details. She did stand out to him, fortunately. Most Drell do. She had the complexion of the desert, something both sad and enchanting. Esteban stared toward the Drell female, trying to catch her eye so she would know where he was at.
He wasn't sure if he was successful or not, as he was practically blindsided by a Salarian that boldly interjected himself into the conversation. Esteban liked the assertiveness. "Greetings" he says "Meldom Wake, Pleasure." He nods to the three at the table and starts to sip his drink while checking things on his omni tool.
"Pleasure," was all the time Esteban had time to say before it was clear Meldom was no longer paying attention. Which was just as well, as one of the final mercenaries approached. A proud, confident man that Esteban recognized immediately. With a military track record like his, Esteban hoped Eric Lysander would be able to add his experience. Though he had to wonder where that red handprint on his face came from.
“I can assure you she meant that affectionately.” He gestured towards himself. “Eric Lysander. I’m here about the job.”
Esteban nodded once again, showing the mercenary that he was correct. "I know your face... not sure about the rest of the class on this field trip..."
"Esteban Bridges," the man introduced himself, extending his hand. (assuming Eric shakes Esteban's hand). After the brief handshake, Esteban gestured to one of the remaining open seats. "Please."
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Note: I will be typing out all the information Esteban has to share, the pay, and everything else. I figured the post was getting book-length by this point. So please feel free to RP as if Esteban was waiting for everyone to settle down before beginning to talk.
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