He bit his lower lip and nodded, then turned to his rucksack and started rummaging through it. "Cathal Lynn... missin' persons case. Figured as much. Prepped our contact for materials as well, just t'be safe; I'll take care of that loose end shortly, don't you worry."
He dug his robe out of the bag, threw it over his head and drew it on, adjusted the cowl until the hanging shadows obscured most of his face. He glanced over his shoulder at Montblanc, then eyed Erik. "Can the little maniac fake a near-crash?"
The passengers were livid... well, one of the two was, anyroad.
"C-c-cannot believe that the Alliance would sanction such a... a..." The shorter man pivoted on one heel and thrust an accusatory finger back at the smoking airship. "...a deathtrap! And don't even get me started on the crew! Arrogant, selfish, rude...!"
They made their way over to the gated counter that awaited all arrivals who graced Limsa Lominsa's airship landing. The attendant on duty - Keeper, prim, proper - gave them a small, polite, indulgent smile as she slid a ledger towards them, along with quill and inkwell. "Sers. Your names and business here, please. Might I inquire if the captain will be along soon?"
The midlander took up the quill in his right hand, dipped it in the ink repeatedly, and looked up at her with wide, open eyes. Indignant shock, that's what that expression was. Something along the lines of, 'how dare you suggest such a thing'. He scowled as he bent down over the rather large tome and scribbled furiously. "I should hope not! Accursed man and his engineer are arms deep in... in..." He gave the Falcon a curt and dismissive wave with his other hand. "...in insuring that our return voyage is a safe one!"
He dropped the quill into the well, spun the tome around, reached into his robe and drew out... something. His highlander companion looked vaguely amused as he shoved the ledger back towards the Keeper and flashed her a... a badge? Red on argent... her eyes widened slighty, but she gave no other sign.Â
Good. A professional.
The latest entry in the ledger simply read,
CALL YOUR SUPERVISOR. DO IT QUIETLY. DO IT NOW.
"Just a moment, sers, and I'll see to it that you're on your way." She bowed and scurried off to see if she could find someone, anyone, who knew just exactly they were supposed to do when someone with something like that made landfall.Â
The two men didn't wait to find out. They turned abruptly, passed quietly through the gate, and headed straight for the lift. The shorter of the pair replaced his identification, dug through his robe again, came up with a small pearl, and popped it into his ear, held it there with two fingers.Â
"Master Raz! Our illustrious client has finally arrived. Pray tell, where can we meet you?"
He dug his robe out of the bag, threw it over his head and drew it on, adjusted the cowl until the hanging shadows obscured most of his face. He glanced over his shoulder at Montblanc, then eyed Erik. "Can the little maniac fake a near-crash?"
The passengers were livid... well, one of the two was, anyroad.
"C-c-cannot believe that the Alliance would sanction such a... a..." The shorter man pivoted on one heel and thrust an accusatory finger back at the smoking airship. "...a deathtrap! And don't even get me started on the crew! Arrogant, selfish, rude...!"
They made their way over to the gated counter that awaited all arrivals who graced Limsa Lominsa's airship landing. The attendant on duty - Keeper, prim, proper - gave them a small, polite, indulgent smile as she slid a ledger towards them, along with quill and inkwell. "Sers. Your names and business here, please. Might I inquire if the captain will be along soon?"
The midlander took up the quill in his right hand, dipped it in the ink repeatedly, and looked up at her with wide, open eyes. Indignant shock, that's what that expression was. Something along the lines of, 'how dare you suggest such a thing'. He scowled as he bent down over the rather large tome and scribbled furiously. "I should hope not! Accursed man and his engineer are arms deep in... in..." He gave the Falcon a curt and dismissive wave with his other hand. "...in insuring that our return voyage is a safe one!"
He dropped the quill into the well, spun the tome around, reached into his robe and drew out... something. His highlander companion looked vaguely amused as he shoved the ledger back towards the Keeper and flashed her a... a badge? Red on argent... her eyes widened slighty, but she gave no other sign.Â
Good. A professional.
The latest entry in the ledger simply read,
CALL YOUR SUPERVISOR. DO IT QUIETLY. DO IT NOW.
"Just a moment, sers, and I'll see to it that you're on your way." She bowed and scurried off to see if she could find someone, anyone, who knew just exactly they were supposed to do when someone with something like that made landfall.Â
The two men didn't wait to find out. They turned abruptly, passed quietly through the gate, and headed straight for the lift. The shorter of the pair replaced his identification, dug through his robe again, came up with a small pearl, and popped it into his ear, held it there with two fingers.Â
"Master Raz! Our illustrious client has finally arrived. Pray tell, where can we meet you?"
![[Image: 1qVSsTp.png]](http://i.imgur.com/1qVSsTp.png)
