night's drink (open)

[WADE KOVACS]

A lone man sat at a table in the middle of the dark inn, his left eye closed and the other...covered by a mysterious patch. This individual was an outlaw; a mercenary; a contract worker; he was Wade Kovacs. In the world of mercenaries, be it to clients or the killers themselves; Wade Kovacs was a known name. The brown-haired gunslinger had completed many missions with outstanding results, yet also failed several due to his morality issues. Sometimes people just can't shoot a kid for money.

The Inn wasn't full and it was late at night; few people scattered around the bar like ants around a garden, a few here and a few there. Most of them were in groups on the other side; playing cards; drinking; gambling. As Wade just sat on the other side of the room with his cold drink, this was one of the moments he could actually sit and enjoy the calm peace of the inn. No one to bother him. No one to kill. No difficult task to accomplish. For him, times like this...they were nice.

Wade's white coat covered the revolver-style gun at his side, attatched to his utility belt, ready to use if something went down; a lot of folks would freak out at the sight of such a deadly weapon, that is why the modest mercenary made it a habit to hide it at his side rather than flashing it around in faces. It always got some unwanted attention, and that is usually when the military boys found their way over.

Taking a sip of his drink, the liquid flowed down his dry throat before the glass was put down on the old table once more.

Peaceful. I like peaceful. Wade thought to himself in his laid-back voice, resting back on his chair before staring up at the ceiling; blue-gray eye staring up into it as if it was the sky.

[Nicholas J. Ezekiel]

Mortals inhabited this inn, the crimson haired azca entered the small pub without a wandering eye in his direction. His movements were swift and precise, leaving no room for sound and error. His trials as an Assassin having trained his perfect soul to become nothing more then a machine of slaughter. Standing beneath a single light wearing his black attire. Watching as an angel of death before sinking back into the shadows, walking slowly to the bar, and softly removing the tender needed to get himself a drink. A strong liquor in a modest amount, he wasn't looking to get drunk, however something warm and sweet was desired in these conditions. Taking his drink several moments later and turning around, bringing the rim of the mug to his lips and taking a sweet sip of the amber liquid. It almost burned his throat, however he showed no pain to the substance, letting a plume of steam leave the crevice between his lips. The sweet plume drifting through the gentle air, a girl swooning over the scent of the apple on his breath. However something caught his eye before leaving the building, a man cloaked in white wasn't a common sight in the out-lands, not to many fancied attention to them selves nor showing their wealth.

It only meant more trouble for them. However what interested him more was the weapon the man had a gun in clear sight, it was a challenge to many of these cut throats, but to be revealing it in public like this only meant one thing, this man wasn't a fake, he could put an end to petty theifs. However Nicholas was not a simple azca, others would have scoffed at this behaviour and left. Instead the forsaken spirit wandered right in-front of the man, taking the empty seat across from the amber liquid the other man was taking another drink from. Collecting himself silently before him, adjusting his posture as both hands rested on top the table, crossed between one another as his hands sat in each palm. The man looking at the outlaw, it was obvious that he had seen battle, this was the type of men he needed for his army. Letting the man finish his last drink he began to speak, "Not for much longer it would seem." He responded to the man, as the once peaceful air within the inn had vanished, the men slowly gathering an eying the table with the two men at it, did they intend on trying to rob them. "You dont look like a commoner, what brings you here Syren." he asked, not knowing his name his only guidance to a name was his race which was revealed by the tone of his skin.

[WADE KOVACS]

Wade's cold eyes were brought down from looking up into the dark ceiling as the sound of a new entree filled his ears. His brown-haired head tilted slightly to quench his curiosity to see what new fellow entered the bar, dreading it to be another military officer who wanted to bring him in; that got tiring after several times. Although, it was not an annoyance or someone he knew, it was what seemed to be just a man entering the inn. However, it was not just the casual Hume or such, this was not the type of being he expected to see in such a place; an Azca.

A thoughtful stare came from the mercenary as he watched the movements of the tall Azca. How did he know it was an Azca though? Wade certainly was not psychic and was unable to perform any mental movements such as telepathy or the sort. Although, perhaps something more important that supernatural ability granted him the great perception; experience. He had dealt with many people through his career as a mercenary, whether it be as a client taking the job, or the person that needed to be dealt with, to the team he would work with. A huge variety of individuals were to be met, although that was far from the purpose of mercenary work. Those veteran eyes of Wade's allowed him to notice the exotic hair color and high height meant that is most likely an Azca. Anything else was unlikely.

However, what an Azca was doing in a place like this was nothing a mercenary like Wade should concern himself with; after all mercenaries should not aim to make enemies, it can only hinder possible job opportunities and gain unwanted enemies. Therefore he simply closed his tired eye and took a small sip of the cool drink that was in front of him.

Seconds passed as Wade rubbed his closed eye with his right, gloved-hand when all of a sudden...A close voice was heard. It did not sound hostile or threatening, so Wade slowly removed his hand to view whoever was speaking. And the person who controlled the voice was rather surprising. The Azca. This red-haired man seemed rather interested in Wade for someone who did not know him for long.

"What business is it to you, Azca?" Wade questioned, not exactly willing to give himself out if this was a government spy or undercover officer. He could only dread the day they became smarter and started chasing him that way instead of upfront assault; at least the enemy was clear that way. Giving the Azca a stern stare, Wade wondered what this man was really after. He did not seem like a military officer or spy for that matter by his manner and appearance but...looks can be decieving.

[Nicholas J. Ezekiel]

The man seemed surprised to see another living being so close to him, as he parted his gloves in-front of his face to spot Nicholas, watching him carefully. Studying his attire, which probably appeared to be military however the lack of badges and crests lead others to think his occupation was something else. A golden cross sat across the lower portion of his cloak, his attire did not match the person he appeared to be. A gentle smirk rising on his face as the man took a breath, finishing his analysis of him. Deducting only one thing for certain, his race his eyes narrowing careful on him, yes he was what he suspected an Azca, and not one who gave a shit about formalities, instead his perfection stood within his art and skills. As the man finally announced his deductions, asking him for a reason to inquire information from him. They were both playing a game of speech that neither would win easily, however it only lead to more attention to the table they sat at as a few daring souls had moved closer to them. "Because you Syren can be quite the fighters." he stated as one of the drunken petty thieves finally made their move on the table.

Watching the hume stumble right before him before adjusting his position slightly, his hand sliding across his coat in a blur when a sudden clank sounded off. Before the drunken hume knew it a barrel was aimed at his head, the massive pistol aimed directly at him, the rounds chambered and ready to fire at the man. "Boom." he whispered, loud enough for his partner and the drunk to hear as the barrel of the gun suddenly stabbed against the male's forehead, aimed directly for the male's solar plexus, crushing the soft bone in the forehead with the metal of the weapon as the man quickly fell to the floor. One would presume he passed out from drinking, but the inn keeper would soon learn of the dead body now beside the dark lit table. Turning back to the Syren his face transitioned back to a soft smile, his facade back up. "I see how you study everyone, you aren't just a nobody. I am looking for people like you to join the rebel faction." he stated softly, not letting his voice get to loud as he looked to the ivory clad man. "The name is Nicholas." he introduced himself, not desired to be called Azca anymore.

[WADE KOVACS]

Wade just grunted at the compliment the mysterious Azca said, knowing it must of been brief sweet talk for a potential offer or request of some sort. Wade knew all too well that no one started a conversation to compliment someone for nothing; there was always something to offer. A lot of his clients were like that, thinking that the modest mercenary would decrease his charge. During this time, the mercenary was more than aware of the foolish beings that attempted to move towards the shady duo. Were these idiots drunk? Looking for a fight? Simply curious? Who knew, but it looked like they could find out soon due to the quickening pace of these inn-dwellers.

Within seconds, the Azca had a gun towards the curious man's head, and with impressive force; delivered a killer shot without even firing the gun. Not to mention the smug comment he gave as he did it, this Azca obviously knew his stuff when it came to offense, weaponry and where to strike at the skull.

A frown appeared on Wade's face, he wasn't so fond of killing innocents without a good reason, although he also knew they were too nosy for their own good. Watching as the man fell to the floor with no sign of life left in his possibly drunken body; Wade's cold eyes shifted from the terrible sight to the face of the new fellow that sat opposite him. The Azca continued to speak like nothing had happened and was completely calm about finishing off a man. Wade was certain this was no spy or military offer. Even with the power they had, he was sure that killing innocents was no where in their job description; especially when their job was to protect. Who was this man? What were his goals? What was he capable of? Apparently some answers were to follow.

Another compliment flowed from the mouth of the red-headed stranger with the gun. A concerned stare came from Wade's face, not exactly thrilled to be in such an event when he wanted some peaceful drinking. The brown-haired, eye-patch wearing Syren took another small sip of his cold drink before placing it back down on the wooden table. So this Nicholas wanted to rack up a selection of skilled individuals capable of being useful to a rebel force? Interesting.

"Curiosity killed the cat, as they say." Wade started with a serious tone, referring to the unlucky soul that was placed out on the floor. "I'm just your average mercenary. You probably know how that works; pay means loyalty." Wade stated calmly, trying to keep it easy and casual. Wade looked down into his amber drink for a second, before looking up with his eye. "Rebellion, huh?" Wade asked, slightly interested, still knowing what curiosity had done to the last man.

[Nicholas J. Ezekiel]

Nicholas smiled softly as the male watched the silent murder of the man beside them, innocent however was not true. A clear ensigma of the prison within Castiria rested on the arm of the man, only those morbid enough to commit a crime so cruel were burned with the mark of shame. The druken bastard must have slaughtered a family with butcher knives, regardless the only reason he knew was once in Castiria he was apart of the military. Perhaps that was for the reason of his perfect conduct and execution. However he no longer held those ties when they forsaken him with treason and sent an innocent man to die in this kingdom. A cold vengeance having blossomed in his heart, how easily they had got rid of one of their best was disgusting. However Nicholas did not need to share this information, at least now for it wasn't a history lesson. Taking his pistol he slowly sheathed it back on the strap on his abdomen. The revolver weapon was lethal without firing a shot, however the assassin was known for his dead eye then his precision strikes. Letting their conversation continue without any more interruption from those within the Inn.

"Knowledge is power in this time and age, even a small trace of secrecy lures criminals like him to the slaughter." he stated softly as the the lit lit dimly above the table was the only source of light they had. "If I expected loyalty I wouldn't be looking for people like you, your devotion is not important me, just the cause." he added gently to his statement about payment. Of course he'd be able to finance his personal war, among just a mere outlaw. However he sensed they'd become less of strangers and more of partners in the following days. With this the Syren asked about the rebellion, a simple question really. "Yes, the current council of Thamos is lead by the elders of Castira. I believe the king is innocent due to how naive and arrogant he is, however the government surrounding him is soiled with old blood, I believe its time to bring a new world order to Thamos. I am the Leader of the Resistance that will bring Thamos into a new age." he finished, an ex solider like himself possessed quite a bit of knowledge, and it probably would be allot to take in however, he knew this man couldn't deny being a right hand man in something this large.

/

[WADE KOVACS]

The Azca's words were rather a different pace from what Wade was used to with all the other clients who demanded pure loyalty to the task and themselves; this man however, cared not about such a thing as devotion, but more so the cause. Interesting. Things like this were always a welcomed change of pace for the missions Wade had to mainly do, out of all of his tasks and contracts he had never taken part in either side of a rebellion. Although he was fully aware of what such a thing was.

Listening to Nicholas, Wade slowly took a small sip of his amber refreshment, the cool liquid running down his throat as his right eye continued to give an interested stare at the red-headed Nicholas.

This was quite the rebellion. Nicholas did not have his plans against a leader of a village or a business...He was going against the whole government itself. That was an extremely challenging goal to set, and possibly even harder to pull off due to the amazing resources the government has access to. And the king...so Nicholas thought he would be rather innocent due to the way most kings are? That is a pleasant thought; Attempting to kill the king along with the government was quite a scary thought.

"Aim big, huh?" Wade sarcastically asked, taking another look at the dead body on the floor next to him who was taken out in skillful fashion. Without warning, Wade slowly offered out his right hand over the table for a handshake, "Wade Kovacs; outlaw and mercenary." He stated with a serious, business-like expression.