So here was what they had: An unarmed and recently paid info broker, a big guy that unfortunately was just biologically so and not some chrome giant that could stand through any hail of bullets with a smile… and a half-baked plan that went somewhere from an at least mid class booze retailer to fuck knows where. Yep. No way this could backfire at all. Croaks raised a hand to his forehead and rubbed it for a second. "On second thought, just gimme a hot second", he requested and turned around, marching with long strides straight to the barkeep.
Old buzzeye grinned at the approach of the gangster and poured a shot of something clear into a glass that was much less so. "Go get 'em amphibian", the man said with the wry expression frozen on his face while Croaks threw the drink down the hatch.
"Fuck you", the big man returned with an annoyed expression and the drink still burning in his throat, much to the amusement of the bartender.
"Nah, ain't got no time. You should consider that though. Got a pretty input there and all", the man returned an obvious joke to the back of the gangster who did his best to ignore it as he caught up to the woman.
And then it was to catching up from where they had left off. That he wouldn't have to worry about her being unarmed since ain't there nobody on this side of the Combat Zone that could catch up to her. And that they hadn't ever really formally introduced themselves. She was Nina. Had Ribby said that at some point? It sounded familiar. Or maybe he was just confusing it with someone else. He offered his right hand towards her with his answer: "Yeah, don't think I have. Croaks. No, it's not a handle, it's a name. Yes, I do have an 'actual' one. Don't bother, nobody else does." There. An introduction. Now to wait for the questions that inevitably followed every time. Every damn time.
But be there any or not, the music shifted before they got out. Croaks' hand shifted closer to his gun's trigger guard and he clicked his tongue. "Fresh arrivals at the door. Bad timing", he grumbled, but kept on pressing on. They were heading out. He wasn't going to hang around in the barkeep's field of view any longer than he had to, if he was going to be that way. And outside… yeah. A curious collection indeed. Tough to say what for. The sort of people didn't usually come by. New faces, that was. This place was pretty far out of the way. And it was the Amphibians' territory.
Nina did seem to have a clue what they might or might not be though. That there was a strange solo with a weird helmet and 'a big red wolf' in the Combat Zone, these parts probably. Well, he had to admit the fresh arrivals fit the description. But should they go and look? Croaks gave Nina a look that more or less asked of her if she was insane. Targeting people that knew about the Lt., and she was considering fucking going back in? "You need a new set of self preservation chips, girl", Croaks said, shaking his head and motioning towards the outside.
"Ribby and the gang are in there. They talk stuff, they start hit, they do anything… it's our bar. We'll get to know without having to go and interface with the lot. I mean, good on you for knowing the rumours, but… I'd kinda run the logic in the other direction." Again, he would gesture towards the outside. And if she wanted her birthday fine, for whatever fucking reason with the gangster with her given
she was the one who'd asked for a partnership… well, that wasn't back in there, nor on the other side of flatline.
Inside though, Ribby would be doing exactly what Croaks had expected of him. The limping guy approached his boss and let him know about the strange arrivals. An exotic kind of gal, and a more ordinary pair that still looked off over in these parts. Ribby would nod at the man and send him on his way. Well. Wasn't that something. Coincidence or not, it paid to pay attention to whatever was going on in there. Ribby put a pair of shades on his eyes and shifted the pillow next to him to the side, dragging a single plug from his neck to the socket behind said decoration element, jacking in to the surveillance network of the bar.
He rolled through the cameras. Two of his guys were keeping an eye on him, as per usual. Good. Several were settled in spots that gave them a line of fire towards the newcomers if need be, though engaged with their own stuff. Was cool, best way for it to be probs. And then there was the table he was actually interested in. The mic was barely picking up any chatter over the music, and whatever it was wasn't all that important. But he caught a few curious movements there. Leaning to the side. Glancing down for longer than possibly made sense. No clue what it was, but it was something. And he wasn't sure he liked it. He'd need to poke his bro with a quick pager note. Get this thing out. Could be related, or it could just be shady dealings in their joint. Without them being asked about it.
@13org@SleepingSilence
