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That is to be expected, he loosened his hug and craned his neck some to look down at Mike, pausing a moment to mull over what he should say- or if he should say anything at all. 

The man is pissed at him. 

He took a step back to ease some space in between them, a silence falling over Kaine, his hand raised and his fingers card through his own hair while he sighs. This is tough. 

If it hadn’t been for the highwayman with the group, it was entirely possible that the Abomination’s sacrifice would have gone unnoticed, forgotten about as thought it had never happened, his corpse left to feed the beasts in the Warrens. Miron had taken a fatal blow, skull crushed by one of the swine after becoming quite hopeless and distracted, but it still provided the rest of the group the opportunity to finish off the awful prince, After the task was complete, the highwayman carried Miron back to the Hamlet, lifeless as he was, left him at the graveyard to be buried. As it was, he was still lying on a stone slab, covered only by a bloodstained white cloth.

@feathercorp

The efforts made by the soldier to be left alone after weeks of works were fruitful since the first moment he worked on it. It was not after the fourth day of being by himself that Verral would miss human touch, contact with his equals, which he would usually solve by attending the brothel… but sometimes an unloving touch would not satisfy the need to let worries abandon his clouded mind. 

Trying to seem as sociable as he could, Verral entered the tavern, and walked towards the bar, clumsily sitting down on one of the bar stools, and ordering a strong beverage, to the concerned, but gladly surprised barman. The prostitutes, peaking from the stairs, didn’t seem so happy about the change of activities, as the man used to pay well for simple acts. 

He expected maybe, some old team mate would come and sit by his side… but that didn’t really happen. He did have a fame… but he wasn’t too worried about it. He knew. He just had to look for a new face, someone he didn’t recognize…

And so he gestured towards a young, chained man, who seemed just stressed entering the crowded tavern. Or maybe that was how he felt. Having his attention, he grunted:

“You seem like a good drinking companion: let me invite you for a drink. I’ve been disgustingly well paid”

The plague doctor gazed up and down over the man, before sighing and gently laying a hand upon one of the other’s shoulders. 

@feathercorp

It was a quiet night, and Kikuchi stayed hidden in the shadows. The richer parts of a neighborhood were always peaceful at this time, away from the nightlife in the neighboring cities. It was going to be an in and out job, and Aoyama’s house wasn’t guarded. Whatever cargo he had stolen would have to be taken, too. His house lights were off, but the information that Kikuchi had received said that he was definitely at home.

However, there was someone else standing there, near a streetlight. It could’ve been a neighbor out on a midnight walk, but she was standing too closely to Aoyama’s house. Kikuchi narrowed her eyes and sized the other woman up.

Her hair was short, and dyed bright red, with pale pink ends. Those silky tresses framed a pretty face and sharp, distinct eyes. Her movements were graceful, and when she was still, she looked poised. Those qualities certainly turned heads, but that’s not why Kikuchi spared the occasional glance.

She’d seen her before.

The assassin wasn’t sure where but she was certain of it. She remembered the girl bathed in neon lights, and perpetually in motion. Maybe they had passed each other on the dark streets of the city...?