Post by ash on May 3, 2009 15:00:59 GMT
It was dark, loud and damp; Ashton hated these places, he always had, they were full of people that hardly washed and that lived as dregs of society, the lowest of the low. These places did, however; have their uses and that is exactly what Ashton was using this for. He sat in a corner devoid of light, a table placed there for the very purpose in which Ashton was using it for; to remain hidden and wait until the other party of this meeting had arrived so that he could finally get down to business and find out what they wanted of him; then charge an enormous price for it. He knew they had money, they had shown him that much just by mentioning that they were coming in from Midgar and were willing to pay for his own travel there and back; which suited him just fine.
He clutched the foul smelling, low grade alcohol in one hand, having not dared drink it yet and kept his other hand at the ready to slip his blade out and strike...just in case.
He didn't expect trouble; not yet anyway, but when his "client" came to meet him, well, then he didn't know what to expect, but he was certainly going to be ready for it.
Lifting his hand up to his hood; he adjusted it to help cover his face from the light; trying to hide as much of himself away as possible, seeing as he was wanted by the authorities and more than a few...disreputable business owners throughout the city and carried on waiting.
Unfortunately for him, the nature of this meeting meant that it couldn't be arranged openly, especially since it required something illegal; so for the past three days, he'd been sitting in a backwater inn for three consecutive days because naming both a time and place would be foolish and careless, so only a place was decided upon and Ashton had been told what to look for once he had arrived; and that thing had yet to be there.
Deciding that there was nothing for it and he had to give up on this day; Ashton took a slow sip of his drink; scowling as he removed the cup from his lips, it was thicker than he thought any drink should be and had a highly acidic taste to it. He was surprised that it hadn't burned a hole through his stomach; let alone the pewter cup in his hands. Another scowl and a look to the bartender; who was glancing his way every few minutes and Ashton stood up to leave. He'd give it a few more days, three at the most then he'd stop coming. It was highly possible that the person hiring him could be dead; the road from Midgar to Lindblum was a dangerous one and airships didn't stop in Midgar recently under Shinra's orders so the only way through the continents would be by using a land based vehicle of some kind, and that meant traversing through some of the most dangerous parts of Gaia where monsters ran rampant.
He kept the cup in his hand as he made his way to the door, being quick, his fingers and placing more than a few coins from stolen purses inside the cup. He didn't steal for the money or to be malicious...he did it for the thrill, and to keep his skills up. It was not too long ago that Ashton had been as poor as the lowest beggar in Lindblum, something he had struggled to rectify for years and he did not intend to go back to being that poor again, not if he could help it.
He pushed past a small man quite easily and made for the door; sliding through it quickly; keeping his hood up, ever vigilant, his eyes darting back and forth when on the road, keeping a look out for any guards or any sort of threat to his being. Holding the stolen cup in his hand and around 300 Gil worth of coins in it; he started walking down the road, bending down mid-stride as he passed a beggar, placing the cup at his feet, flashing the man a smile for good measure. He usually looked out for himself in any situation; his motto pretty much being "to hell with everyone else; I'm outta here" but he remembered what it was like to be that poor and having no one lend you a helping hand...plus it hadn't actually cost him a dime so who cared...apart from the ten or so men he'd taken small amounts of cash from.
Only a few steps away from the inn, he turned a corner, seeing someone and keeping his head down. He watched them walk past and an intrigued smile played on his lips...could this be them? Finally? He peeked his head around the corner and watched them slip quietly into the inn, barely making a sound.
He rolled his eyes at the person's lateness and padded back toward them; opening the door and watching as the blond who had walked in, dressed in a dark blue suit spoke to the bartender. His hand touched the side of her arm, his head moving closer to her; smelling the perfume she wore , the flowery scent of roses that masked the smell of aggression and death he'd become so used to living down in these slums.
With a slight squeeze and his other hand placed on her back, palm pressed against her spine in case she decided to try anything funny, his blade ready to spring from its leather sheathe and paralyze her instantly, he moved his lips right next to her ear so she could hear him in the massive uproar of this inn where fights broke out regularly.
"Well...you certainly aren't what I was expecting."
He clutched the foul smelling, low grade alcohol in one hand, having not dared drink it yet and kept his other hand at the ready to slip his blade out and strike...just in case.
He didn't expect trouble; not yet anyway, but when his "client" came to meet him, well, then he didn't know what to expect, but he was certainly going to be ready for it.
Lifting his hand up to his hood; he adjusted it to help cover his face from the light; trying to hide as much of himself away as possible, seeing as he was wanted by the authorities and more than a few...disreputable business owners throughout the city and carried on waiting.
Unfortunately for him, the nature of this meeting meant that it couldn't be arranged openly, especially since it required something illegal; so for the past three days, he'd been sitting in a backwater inn for three consecutive days because naming both a time and place would be foolish and careless, so only a place was decided upon and Ashton had been told what to look for once he had arrived; and that thing had yet to be there.
Deciding that there was nothing for it and he had to give up on this day; Ashton took a slow sip of his drink; scowling as he removed the cup from his lips, it was thicker than he thought any drink should be and had a highly acidic taste to it. He was surprised that it hadn't burned a hole through his stomach; let alone the pewter cup in his hands. Another scowl and a look to the bartender; who was glancing his way every few minutes and Ashton stood up to leave. He'd give it a few more days, three at the most then he'd stop coming. It was highly possible that the person hiring him could be dead; the road from Midgar to Lindblum was a dangerous one and airships didn't stop in Midgar recently under Shinra's orders so the only way through the continents would be by using a land based vehicle of some kind, and that meant traversing through some of the most dangerous parts of Gaia where monsters ran rampant.
He kept the cup in his hand as he made his way to the door, being quick, his fingers and placing more than a few coins from stolen purses inside the cup. He didn't steal for the money or to be malicious...he did it for the thrill, and to keep his skills up. It was not too long ago that Ashton had been as poor as the lowest beggar in Lindblum, something he had struggled to rectify for years and he did not intend to go back to being that poor again, not if he could help it.
He pushed past a small man quite easily and made for the door; sliding through it quickly; keeping his hood up, ever vigilant, his eyes darting back and forth when on the road, keeping a look out for any guards or any sort of threat to his being. Holding the stolen cup in his hand and around 300 Gil worth of coins in it; he started walking down the road, bending down mid-stride as he passed a beggar, placing the cup at his feet, flashing the man a smile for good measure. He usually looked out for himself in any situation; his motto pretty much being "to hell with everyone else; I'm outta here" but he remembered what it was like to be that poor and having no one lend you a helping hand...plus it hadn't actually cost him a dime so who cared...apart from the ten or so men he'd taken small amounts of cash from.
Only a few steps away from the inn, he turned a corner, seeing someone and keeping his head down. He watched them walk past and an intrigued smile played on his lips...could this be them? Finally? He peeked his head around the corner and watched them slip quietly into the inn, barely making a sound.
He rolled his eyes at the person's lateness and padded back toward them; opening the door and watching as the blond who had walked in, dressed in a dark blue suit spoke to the bartender. His hand touched the side of her arm, his head moving closer to her; smelling the perfume she wore , the flowery scent of roses that masked the smell of aggression and death he'd become so used to living down in these slums.
With a slight squeeze and his other hand placed on her back, palm pressed against her spine in case she decided to try anything funny, his blade ready to spring from its leather sheathe and paralyze her instantly, he moved his lips right next to her ear so she could hear him in the massive uproar of this inn where fights broke out regularly.
"Well...you certainly aren't what I was expecting."