Bryan maintained his stare into her eyes."A while ago now..."His mind flooding back with memmories of his ex-wife. He had never stopped caring about her, but their marriage was simply a casualty of his job. Working undercover, and working at a marriage just doesen't end well, as Bryan had found out in the most painful way possible. The day she had found comfort in another man. Bryan suddenly became aware of his daydream stare and continued.
"She left me. She left me because I never found the time for her. I was always too busy... for anything" Bryan took a sip of his drink, then began to nurse the glass in his right hand."But if I spend too long dwelling on past mistakes I'll end up a lonely old fool aswell"
Raising his glass, Bryan continued,"So here's to us not ending up as lonely old fools"Bryan's smile had finally returned.
Hannah nodded, this wasn't an act. No one could be that lost in thought over something they made up. She knew something didn't add up, smugglers back on Manhattan never were like this. "She left me. She left me because I never found the time for her. I was always too busy... for anything" Hannah frowned slightly, something didn't add up, if he was a smuggler his whole life he wouldn't have had time to find a wife in the first place. Almost all of the smugglers she had met were taking on the family name, or getting out of trouble at a young age.
"So, you haven't always been a... courier.... have you?"
She stopped, overstepping the ling again. Hannah shook her head as she looked up at the clock before finishing her drink. She took a pen and a bit of paper from her bag and wrote:
Manhattan, Dallas district. You will find a playground there on Bryce Road. Meet me there 9am tomorrow if you want to see me again.
Hannah smiled at him, saying something about having to get home after realising the time. Not giving him an opportunity to answer her question, she stood up from the table. As she went to walk past him she bent down and kissed him on the cheek slipping the note into his hand. With that she left the bar and returned to her ship - and back to Manhattan.
[font=Courier New] A shadowy man in his mid-20's walks in to the bar. while not odd for the Gate, the midnight Black power armour and one of a kind rifle sets him apart. A voice rings out from the helmet speakers.
[font=Palatino Linotype] "Bartender, the strongest Vodka you carry. Straight."
[font=Courier New] He steps up to the bar and removes his helmet. it reveals a young man with short blond hair. He places the helmet on the bar while the bartender brings his drink.
[font=Palatino Linotype] "Thanks. Haven't had one of these in a while."
[font=Courier New] The young man retrieves some credits from a compartment on the armour and puts them on the bar
[font=Palatino Linotype] "A round of drinks for everyone. I believe this should cover it."
[font=Courier New] He downs the vodka in one go and orders another.
"ENOUGH"
The muffled yell could be heard behind the door as several loud thuds landed on the wall outside.
The lanky man burst through the door with a face twisted in frustration as his fall, half a dive into the pub and half tripping over himself, placed him perfectly to land hard on his shins. He flipped over onto his back, hands raised in guard as if waiting for the next hit, a smile streaked across his face as he flipped his head back to move a lock of hair out of vision.
Zed walked through the door slowly, surveying the faces as he moved toward the fists-raised lump of a man he called his brother. "You said we weren't going to talk about yer' ****e this time, Cam. You SAID we were jus' gonna have a nice drink" he threw a sharp kick towards his brother's shins, watching him wince in pain as it landed. Cam's eyebrows raised in time with the shrug of his shoulders "aye, but I never said I'd stop talkin' about it before we actually got TO the pub, nae did I?" he laughed as he unclenched his fists and reached up towards Zed. Bracing his back leg Zed threw out his arm, clasping his brother's forearm in hand as he lifted him to his feet "You mean it then? A whole night without having to listen to yer damn banterin' about finding a cause and yer EVER SO DEEP NEED to want to help people".
Their eyes locked for a second before the answer came, "Maybe not the WHOLE night" Cam laughed as he threw his arm over Zed's shoulder and pushed them both towards the bar.
The twin's walks couldn't have been more synchronized. Both walking in time with the other, thick-soled boots drumming on the floor as they both slid into their seats and ran a hand across their foreheads, putting the hair that had fallen forward back into place.
"Scotch"
This obviously wasn't the first time they'd had a drink together.
Thomas.Holden - independent junker scrapping across sirius Zed.Taylor - former bretonian privateer hunting royalist remnants Tradeknight.7 - industrial trade crew of 4 brothers
A stranger in a dark cape enters The Lone Drunkard. His cape's hood hides his face, which appeared to be blueish. He directly walks towards the bartender, and starts talking to him:
"Hola, senor. I'm looking for some special ship construction service. I'm sure you can help me."
The bartender watched at him, meaningful, while nodding slowly. He starts talking to his headset.
"Take a seat, he'll be here in a few."
The mysterious man, gives the bartender a tip, takes a seat in one of the bars corners, and waits.
Just a minute later, the called man, a tall man with strong arms appears in the bar. They had a short talk before he shows the newcomer a faded folder. Suddendly, both got quiet. They stared at each other for like 5 minutes, without saying any word. As they would have woken up from a dream, the one answers:
"Alright, my word on it. We'll see tomorrow morning at hangar D1/17"
Without waiting for an answer, the man leaves again, as fast as he arrived. The man in the cape, stays at his place, orders a drink, opens his diary #15, and writes into it. He pauses, when the twins enter bar. He watches them for a while, being amused. But his smile didn't last long, when a voice reminds him, that he's doomed to be a an only child.
The Pub was a bit familiar, the same place she had met with that outcast, Ezio, several months back. Anna was a bit shaken, she was never the type to be halfway in with a plan. Taking calculated risks and being all in earned her both an uplifting and damning pool of fame. Her own son, Isaak, couldn't quite wrap his head around Anna's story. He still held her accountable for the destruction and pain she caused - they weren't left on the best of terms. Things weren't fairing much better with Lucien, he'd changed; sold his soul to a cause he believed in, and it began to give Anna the impression she was more of a burden to him than anything else.
Struggling to find her way now, Anna hoped being a mercenary would help her to find a halfway point between who she really was - and who she'd become. Being self-sufficient in her own way, she hoped it sit better with Lucien than simply being a loose cannon in their relationship.
Basically a lot of stupid reasons to start killing again, but being a mercenary didn't completely entail killing - did it?
Anna sat in front of the bar table, scrolling through a small PDA. It looked like she was watching videos or memories. She left all her gear on but her helmet, which was strapped to the back of her flight suit.
A few people starred, but no one said anything. Barrier Gate never saw Hessians, and the partially torn SOA logo on her flight suit gave everyone that impression.
Wishing to get away from Valravn for a day, Mieko brings herself to Barrier Gate. The woman was adorned in her usual armor and attire, well aware of the rowdy clientele that bars and pubs tended to bring, especially in more unruly places like Freeports and the sort where both sides of the 'law' clashed in a somewhat peaceful locale.
Her small stature is matched by her buxom figure, the tones of black, purple and metal covering her glistening in the lights of the pub as she walks in. As she walks in she is shocked aside by a Bounty Hunter hitting the pillar of the wall face first, as a Rogue had prior bashed his head into the counter, dazing him, only to send him tumbling. The Rogue leaves a credit card on the counter as he downs the last drink, walking out somewhat briskly past Mieko as the Hunter is left there, knocked out like a light. No one seems to come to his aid.
Mieko wants to aid him, even if he would likely just as quickly put her in handcuffs and toss her to the LSF, but she realizes it may not be wise to do so. She heads to an unoccupied booth, and sits alone. She looks over the menu, to see what could sate her shell's hunger and also help wash away her frustrations.
In the intervening months she has had her live upturned, joined with Auxesia, found out that her family may still be alive, among other matters. Between the sour taste of Revenant in her mouth, with her supposedly racist opinions of the Kusari, and the recent absence of Foulke, combined with a growing sense of camraderie with the Prometheans rather than Auxesia proper, especially after a late night meeting with one of their latest recruits, Yukiko Hideyoshi - Mieko is torn in multiple directions.
A lull in sorties in recent weeks has left Mieko wanting. The waitress towers over her table, a black-haired, bob-cut Libertonian woman. "What can I getcha?" She says, pulling out her order tablet.
"Kamikyuu Hard Banana, and a large Full Grinder Sandwich, please." Mieko answers, with the lady taking down the order. "You technocrats eat regular food?"
"Some of us, yes. I prefer it to synth paste."
"Who doesn't. I'll have that rung up, you want any appetizers or anything?"
Mieko reviews the menu as she looks at the bar's neural net site. "A Blooming Star." she says, looking into the green eyes of the woman with a small smile.
The woman looks down at her pad, unfazed and lacking much emotion, before she looks up and returns a slightly larger smile. "Alright. I'll have the Star and your drink out for you soon." They say, before heading out.
Mieko looks around in the interim, keeping to herself, before returning to her neural lace and accessing the neural net to keep herself occupied.
Victoria enters the bar a few minutes after the Auxesian woman, seeking yet another conversation with her regarding some of the things they had talked about prior.
She looks around for a moment, still carrying a sense of paranoia within her even though she now has an organisation to protect her. Noting no suspicious behaviour, for a pub such as this at least, she walks past some of the tables in search of a woman she merely calls Yoruha. Upon seeing her sitting inside one of the more secluded booths she walks up to her and gently knocks one of the steel beams that secured the structural integrity of the lounge.
"Knowing that I must have been so close to Technocrats for years already without noticing, that's kind of a weird feeling. May I take a seat, Yoruha?", she asks with a gentle voice, wearing a well used pilot suit and carrying two roughly pistol shaped devices on her side. Her red-ish brown hair reaches down to her shoulders, and if Yoruha was to look closely would probably notice that Victoria hadn't slept for a good amount of time.
As Victoria comes in, the Waitress returns with her drink, a large yellowish beverage, which consists of a primary flavor of banana, something that heavily calls to Mieko's sweet tooth, whilst not being overly inebriating. She nods to the Waitress, as she departs, seeing the woman approach. Until now, Mieko had not seen Victoria beyond her helmet. At first, she reaches for her pistol, a rheinlandic polymer pistol based on an old terran design, which she carried with her since being gifted it by Hanamura years ago. Grasping the black polymer grip, she almost is about to reach for her right hand to cock back the purple metallic slide. Just as Victoria speaks, Mieko realizes who it is, from the tone of voice. She releases the pistol in her holster, and gives a smile. "We tend to blend in more than most in the sector might think. Please do, Victoria. And please, call me Mieko." She says, with a friendly, slightly sweet demeanor. Her voice is soft, which is a polar opposite of who she is in combat, but in this world, even the kind must bear fangs lest their lives and the lives of those they love come to an abrupt end.
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