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Outside the bar, Specter lifted her head and sniffed curiously at the serval as it approached and retreated. She didn't raise her hackles - hamstringing a two-legged, toddling sack of bones was one thing. Engaging mano-a-mano versus a trained hunter accustomed to solitary kills rather than pack tactics was another thing entirely. She laid her head back down. Master would call when she was needed.

Back inside, Claudius met the newcomer's eyes easily, watching them carefully for a while. He made no move to greet her, and nor did he say anything. He simply looked at those eyes, and then allowed his gaze to back out, to the bigger picture. A happy-go-lucky floozy. A nice piece of a**, too. At least she and Felix would keep one another occupied. Back to the matter at hand.

There was really nothing to be said. Claudius had gathered information before; it wasn't his specialty, but he knew how to squeeze blood from a rock. It was time to get paid and go. "So are we starting now, then?" He put his hand on the table, waiting for money to be laid in it.

As long as I know I'm getting paid
In this life that matters more than death
I follow to my dying breath
And whatever crap you may decree
As long as I know you're paying me

That's the way I want to be saved
As long as I know I'm getting paid
Whatever my word is worth in trade
As long as I know I'm getting paid
As long as I know I'm getting paid

Felix took his share of the money and thumbed it; all good. Snapping it once against his hand, Felix nodded and smiled at Nonus. "Thanks, mate," he said, opening up his messenger bag and depositing the wrapped stack of money inside. "You shouldn't walk around with that much money, though. If I had known you were that stacked, I would have killed you before you walked in, instead of waiting all this time." His smile and his cheerful tone never wavered though; he was simply stating a fact of life.

"But now we're a bit past that. I'm a professional, and I've been paid. Consider this mission on, yeah?" He asked the last of Claudius, nudging his now-comrade lightly with his elbow.

((1: sorry about the absence. 2: Bayer, lemme know if I can't have a chopper or if I need to explain its presence and I'll edit accordingly biggrin 3: should OoC be in some other thread?))

Claudius eyed the money suspiciously as he took his share, as though concerned, like a parent might be, that it would disappoint him in the end. After thumbing his way through it somewhat slower than Felix had, he put it in a jacket pocket, ignoring the blood-hungry words of his new cohort. As soon as Felix's elbow touched him, he pinned the man with a flat stare that said, quite clearly, "Touch me again, and I will remove the offending appendage."

He was a little kinder to Nika; after giving Nonus a gruff, but in the end, arguably polite, nod of his head and grunt, he responded to her: "Let's move. Meet in an hour." He didn't seem particularly concerned by the discontinuity of the sentences as he thumped his way out of the bar and to the chopper Specter had been guarding, black lacquered cane still the only bright thing about his entire being. A job was a job. While he had no plans of pursuit, the young lady would at least make this one a little more bearable with her cheery demeanor.

The chopper was one of those things of which, in his solitary mode of life, Claudius had become strangely fond. It could of course never remain polished for long, but parts of its chrome architecture gleamed in the mid-afternoon sun, lending a brighter aspect to his grave demeanor as he approached it possessively. The damn thing was expensive as hell to repair when it got damaged and gas was also not cheap, but it had a sidecar with a pillow and goggles in it for Specter, and a heavy, bolted lock around the wheels for when both he and the dog were absent. Not as if a lock would honestly deter anyone who really wanted it, but the chain against a length of metal in the side that acted effectively as a bell served as a loud warning. Claudius had had to clean would-be thiefs' blood off the handlebars before.

He straddled the thing and clicked his tongue at Specter, who hopped in the sidecar with a sort of dignity and waited to have her goggles put on, wagging slowly. He then pulled out his own from a glovebox, made sure his hat was secure, stashed his cane with Specter, revved the motor - taking time to close his eyes and enjoy the happy purr of the machine - and started making his way to the closest den of hookers he knew about.

Nika laughed mentally as Claudius responded to Felix's gesture. It wasn't because of who it was, it was because of the look. Now, at her age, she had already learned not to judge a person when you first meet them. Though, from the solitary fact that they had answered to the add, just as she had, they were confident in their skills. That alone was a good sign.

Claudius alone answered her. Alright, she could do that. Meet in an hour, but where? They hadn't exactly decided that, nor even brought it up. So, she decided she'd be outside the bar. With the cash she now had, she could buy some needed supplies. She watched as the two men left, slowly standing herself. "Hopefully the next time we meet..your daughter will be safely in your arms." She stated with a small smile.

She had seen how her father had reacted when her sister was gone. She hoped she could prevent the same fate from befalling Nonus' daughter. With that, she turned and made her way out of the bar. Once out in the bright sunlight, she squinted a moment before her eyes adjusted to the harsh light. Nika called out for her cat, and before too long, Emris was by her side.

She smiled and scratched under his chin, which extracted a purr out of him. That was one of the reasons why she loved cat's. Dog's just wagged their tails when the were 'happy'. Cat's purred, and it wasn't always easy to please a cat. Dog's were the easier pet, in her opinion. Also, having a serval for a pet wasn't out of the ordinary, but it certainly wasn't common. So, he stayed by her side as she made her way on foot to an ammo store. She needed more bullet's for her pistol. After that, she'd stock up on some water, they'd need it. Emris took care of the food with his hunting.

((I took a few liberties, based on what I saw. I tried to keep them reserved, but if they're wrong correct me, by all means.))

The appointed hour passed, and separately they reconvened in front of the trashy establishment. Each of the three arrived in their own style, and each of the three were free to learn more about each other.

Felix arrived in his truck, which rolled slowly through streets crowded with pedestrians. They watched, some with interest, some with hunger, as he passed, but all knew that a man of his dress was probably armed, and probably just as desperate as they were, just with a little bit more padding. A truck, however, meant that he hauled equipment, and the style of truck indicated to anyone mindful that he intended to haul personnel, not equipment. He was not averse to operating alone, but it wasn't his general style.

Cladius, on the other hand, rode in on his motorcycle, the sidecar clearly reserved for Specter and not meant for anyone else. Again he received the same sort of looks, but the motorcycle turned them from looks to a healthily wide berth. Indeed, he tore down the street with no need for brakes to avoid plebians; they did the avoiding, well before he actually approached.

Nika's entrance was more reserved, less forward, and certainly as much of an indication. She approached by foot, blending in with the crowd - well, at least until they noticed the wild cat following her. That tended to draw interest or alarm in equal amounts. She didn't carry the flare, though, and that was not a simple lack of suavity. She just didn't have the same ego.

They, however, did not have a difficult time spotting each other. The truck and the motorcycle and the massive cat were dead giveaways, and they rapidly convened. The gathering of the trio gathered even more attention than the individual presence of each, which lead to a rather wide space given to all of them, as the common man knew exactly what they were. The dress, the vehicles, the animals - either they were eccentric out-of-town folk, or they were Private Eyes, although the difference between the two was often blurred.

The older-seeming man arrived looking somewhat more bedraggled than before, if that was possible. There was a new scratch in the lacquer on his cane, and Specter (who was as much a part of his ensemble as his coat or hat) seemed to have a blood smear on her muzzle.

Offering no explanation, he merely answered with a grunt of affirmation and "I'll drive." Again: better to leave those two on their own. He had never been a pleasant passenger, anyway.