#dirk 001

featuring new talent the likes of which have never been seen!

@zakeras

Just another ad to answer. A casting call, not at all uncommon for the area in which they lived, but one that did not ask for the usual musical or theatrical talent. It was one that called for experience of a different kind.

One that he actually had to offer. Funny, for a city that constantly questioned his usefulness.

And the security involved had made this opportunity a rather daunting one. His initial screening had been easy enough: resume, basic questionnaire, meeting a representative meant to weed out those who absolutely did not fit the description before actually going in front of the boss of sorts. He’d made it among the few candidates who were asked for a second interview -- and had been told very clearly just how high profile this was to be. He was not nervous, not really, anyway: there was probably good reason for the very specific rules and information given, and as long as the client wasn’t a woman (and he had made sure of that), it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. He’d been everything from a temporary security guard (boring yet quite easy) to a bouncer at a nightclub (which was absolutely short-lived due to how many drunk and scantily clad women tried to come onto him for entry). Defense and the handling of a basic set of rules coupled with intimidation and strength-based skills? Not a problem.

For all of his preparedness, however, he’d have no idea what he was getting into until already agreeing to it. Though it was perhaps too early to make that assumption when hadn’t even attended the interview yet.

The boss had picked a public place, which made quite a bit of sense when having to feel out a potential employee of this nature. As he understood it, there would be a lot of crowd control and a need to be aware of surroundings in this work. He was a quiet and observant type, which made those easy concepts to take in. Their meeting would take place in a coffee shop, one of the more popular on this side of town. It being the height of the afternoon on a Wednesday, it was quite packed. Despite the apparent profile of the client, he’d actually been personally asked to dress casually for the occasion... so jeans and a plain t-shirt were all he wore. Even luckier still, it had been close enough to walk to, so right several minutes before it was to start, he came upon the door. A deep breath -- even his impressive credentials didn’t change the fact that he had to meet a new face -- 

Or two.

Oddly enough, as he stepped through, the crowd seemed to part. A healthy mix of twenty and thirty-somethings occupied the line and the tables -- some on phones, some on laptops, some huddled over drinks and chatting with friends. He wasn’t here to see anyone like that, looking for the--ah, yes. The strange hat he’d mentioned he’d be wearing. An icebreaker, he’d laughed on the phone. He sounded like a parent... and probably was, given his appearance. Near a farther window toward the outside patio sat the man a good handful of years older than he... and a younger man with hair the color of the sun. Distinct shades. A lax position with his body slightly reclined and ankle folded and resting onto his knee. Despite the glasses, he could tell he’d been noticed, the younger of the two nudging the older man and motioning with his head. ... Was that a smile on his lips?

Before he could consider it any further, the older man was now approaching him. “Are you Lon’qu?” He asked with a pleasant (but not too friendly) smile.

“... Yes.” The younger (yet taller) said simply, giving a short nod. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Egbert.”

“Oh certainly.” And he offered his hand to shake. “The pleasure is mine. We are quite excited to meet you, although I hadn’t anticipated Mr. Strider joining us today. ...Did you want to order anything?”

Not really. Why did that name sound so familiar? “I will pass. Thank you.”

“Sure, sure. Do come sit. Like I said, this may be a little different than I am used to but hope you can bear with me --er, us.” He smiled again -- more good-naturedly -- before leading Lon’qu to the table (and the unexpected blonde guest.)

A pause and Egbert looked between the two of them before clapping his hands. “We are attempting to remain low-profile today... and as such, I hope I will not have to elaborate on his identity much further. This is Mr. Dirk Strider. He is your intended client. Mr. Strider, this is Lon’qu.”

The glasses made it a little weirder. He couldn’t get a read on his eyes. His brows knit slightly but he nevertheless went to shake his hand. 

The weapons merchant was a nice place to visit, because even if he was poor (or, you know, completely broke), he could at least take solace in something he was quite the expert in. In a city and universe of things he did not understand, this was perhaps vital. 

Swords didn’t talk back. They spoke, of course, but not in the way that annoyed him, and not in a way many could hear. Their voices were methodical, completely dependent on their user’s talent and strength, a bond more organic than perhaps humanity could provide him. Or at least this is what he had come to think, having committed himself to this craft in an attempt to keep people at arm’s length. In fact, the mere notion that this was a problematic or otherwise bad decision upon himself was another thing he kept at arm’s length -- if he thought too deeply, he swung his sword and sliced it all away. Problem solved.

On this day, it was relatively empty. He was not a fan of the cold but apparently neither was the majority of the city, for he could safely come to a store like this unperturbed. What a concept: in such a large place, he could actually be somewhat alone. The store smelt faintly of wood and steel, smells he could be comfortable around, and it was becoming more and more like home the longer he stayed. 

Only one other person browsed the wares -- briefly, he was bothered and hoped he could remain unnoticed. Interaction was just not a thing he wanted to deal with, especially not following the many embarrassing and troublesome conversations he had already had upon arrival. People were just different, here. He’d prefer any of the Shepherds -- even the women, maybe -- over some of the folks he had found. Upon further inspection, however, there was (almost) nothing to to fear.

And the almost, of course, came from the unfortunate circumstance of the last stupid game he had attended. He really had no reason to keep going, especially not after what had happened last time. The two of them, thrown together in a rumor of sorts, unsure of how it all came to fruition. But people talked and he knew it to be true in whispers and laughter. So easily flustered, he turned out looking like a fool... and perhaps what was worse was what followed. Because when he really thought about it, he just--no. No. 

He could do this. It wasn’t a big deal. They were... friends, right? Sort of?