(Untitled)

[lizardoverdose]

Characters: Novak/Scales [lizardoverdose] & Vimes/Stoneface [stonyfaced]
Date/Time: BACKDATED to February 2nd, late evening.
Location: The Marketplace, and probably moving from there.
Rating: PG..13? Probably.
Summary: Scales & Stoneface have a talk about the current state of Edensphere security.

Comments

[stonyfaced]

Stoneface stood on the side of the pathway, looking about for Scales. Even with a horrendous lack of grammar, he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders, and that was all that he needed. Then again, the man--lizard--lizardman--whatever he was, showed no sign of showing up.

Which was vexing. All things considered, a giant lizard (which he was still having some trouble believing, but he was becoming accustomed to being surprised) shouldn't be hard to spot. Then, as a finger a bit too pointed than what fit his idea of what a finger should feel like tapped him on the shoulder, he whipped his head around.

...Ah. The bit of arm sticking out of the cloak was scaly. Apparently he wasn't used enough to being surprised, judging from what felt like the whiplash he'd received. "Scales, right?" He asked, rubbing his neck

[lizardoverdose]

"That's me," he responded, pulling the hand back into the rest of the shapeless black form. The face under the cloak was equally green, with a little wry smile on his face. His slit-eyes twinkled under the hood, even more wry and a little mean and a little cool. "Sorry about sneaking up on you, there. I'm feeling more paranoid than I used to, and I figured climbing onto a building and yelling your name would be a little embarrassing."

"Nice to meet you for real this time, Stoneface." He offered the same gloved hand. "Let's talk?"

[stonyfaced]

"Not a problem," he replied, eying Scales' appearance with some fascination, but he held himself back from outright staring; that was an invitation for trouble. "I can't blame you."

Not with what had been happening around here. Murders and disappearances, and, well, the man was covered in scales. Even if everybody seemed oddly accepting of what Stoneface considered to be outrageous things, there was probably a person or two who looked upon it with distaste.

"That sounds like a plan," he replied, shaking Scales' hand firmly, amidst his confusion as to exactly how his hands worked in the first place. He rose his hand to his face, a familiar scritch-scratch sound accompanying his nails scraping against stubble; he had yet to find a decent razor in this place.

It would be a good idea to try finding a place a bit more secluded for the nature of their conversation, he figured, or at least to be able to move so that if someone were following them, they could detect it. "Shall we walk?"

[lizardoverdose]

Scales was accustomed to the looks and the stares, and he understood that even respect granted a double-take. That being said, he liked Stoneface's attempt at control. It was a mark in his favor, and he found that those came around less and less. He also liked a firm handshake, and though that much could be deceiving, it was something that he never stopped paying attention to.

"I'd like that, yeah." He glanced behind him, as if looking for someone following him - his eyes tracking the roofs, and the trees above that, intent. He was watchful at least and downright paranoid at worst, but paranoia kept you alive. Paranoia and distrust. He had a long legs and quite a bit of muscle, and he found himself adjusting his long strides to Stoneface's for a couple of silent moments. Then, he spoke, his voice still cool.

"Are you interested in doing some, ah, guard-work? I believe, these days, it's called vigilantism."

You could see the smirk from even deep inside the hood.

[stonyfaced]

Stoneface looked at his companion out of the corner of his eye; the cloak hid most of his features, and although Stoneface could understand it, he didn't like it. He concentrated on walking for a moment, the gears of his mind whizzing while his feet swung at an easy pace. It felt good, better than just standing around as a guard.

"I don't hold up with vigilantism," he said, patting his pocket for a cigarette - they were cheaper than the cigars - before realizing that he had none on him. Damn. "But," he added on, feeling his lips curl up into a smile, "I'd like to do my job. Strictly speaking, a Guard's job is to guard. The people, not a building." He sincerely doubted that anybody would attempt to steal the Hatchery overnight