Quoted By:
"Maruyama, Alexis, you go bother the men in suits. Adam, keep an eye on the front door. Benedict, check the bar and kitchen. The rest of us will be waiting out in the longue." Sounds like the best allocation of resources so nobody is left sitting around with their dick in their hands- Okay not the best time or place to think of that.
Maruyama gives a thumbs up at the plan. "Can do. Shouldn't be too hard." A faint smile crosses the exhausted salaryman's face. Alexis nods approvingly, patting Maruyama on the back. "C'mon. We can strike up a GREAT deal with them." If you didn't know any better, she almost sounds encouraging.
Maruyama's smile only widens as he adjusts the sheath hanging off his belt. You're still curious what could possibly be in there but you'd imagine you'll see it eventually. The two of them head their way over to the men in suits while Adam and Benedict head to their own spots.
Adam does so quickly, standing by the side of the doorway without much issue.
Benedict, given his unnatural anatomy, takes a while to shamble over to the bar and sloppy joe restaurant. No one is really paying attention to him due to the 'meat' all around the place and the suits will be too busy talking to the others, so it's not a big issue. Well, except for the Gunman. He's watching him and the rest of your group suspiciously.
<<span class="mu-b">"Hm. That bronze haired man looks familiar. Best not to do anything."</span>> He promptly sinks back into the shitty lounge chair, hand gently resting against his holstered gun just in case. He looks odd now that you look at him closer.
His red eyes have an unnatural sheen to them and his skin, for a lack of a better word, looks <span class="mu-b">fake.</span> It's glossy and shiny in a way skin shouldn't be and you swear he's only breathing every ten or so seconds.
You decide not to look at him any longer. <span class="mu-b">Frank did warn you about not staring at anyone who looks like they're here for another reason.</span> The three of you stand around in the longue while the others fall into their positions.
"So." You lean against the wall of the lounge, propping yourself up on one leg. "Frank. I might as well do an on-the-job interview while we wait for the others. We got all of our bases covered, no?"
Frank's eyes glance around the room, straining to make out anything through the neon lights, before nodding. "I suppose so. What do you want to know, freakshit?"
The Handler simply snorts upon hearing that phrase coming out of anyone else but him.
"You're weird. That's the thing, I just don't get you." Maybe it's the fact you JUST met him but something about this man is rubbing you the wrong way. "Why are you...you?"
Frank's beady little brown eyes are staring down at you as if you said the most retarded thing he has ever heard. "Listen, sugar, I'm me because I'm the best in my field. ETF-Kappa, after all." He smacks his fist against his chest. "There's nothing else to me. <span class="mu-b">If you're not the best, who are you?</span>"
