Don't call it a clunker
It had taken months of hard work, a fact which would have had some of the clan loudly wondering what Xigbar considered to be hard work, but they'd finally been able to afford an airship. Still, the budget had been a little restricted, and the nefarious purposes Xigbar had in mind meant that he'd gone for the ability to hide things over mere
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He'd known that Noir was going to go, of course; he'd given it a small shopping list for the ship, too, but knowing in advance that he'd leave Xaldin behind with the ship didn't make him wish he could have brought him any less.
Instead, he had Axel, who was at least pretty handy in combat, and as a bonus, had this continent as his homeland on his licence. It was a factor which could be useful, should they fall into certain types of trouble.
Celapaleis was a big place; Xigbar hadn't been joking about that. They got to the Amber Tavern a few minutes late, which wasn't bad when Xigbar had expected to be later. Then came the search for their customer. If he was sensible, he'd be sitting out in the open, with a drink, dressed like everyone else in there.
Somehow, when Xigbar's gaze alighted on the escaped teacher in the horrible glasses, who had tried to tuck himself away in an upstairs corner, he just knew that guy was going to be their man. If he wasn't their man, he was someone else's man, but he was definitely a man who was categorically up to something.
He nudged Axel with his elbow, and then offered him some money. "Three drinks and then bring them up. Beer for me, whatever you want for yourself," he paused and then finished, "and whatever you think that guy drinks." Xigbar wouldn't help but expect him to drink much the same as Vexen, which was better described as 'copious quantities of tea' rather than anything alcoholic, but he'd have to lump it.
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Even though Xigbar'd brought him with him, he'd have preferred to have been left behind on the ship. The last time he was on the continent, he was the prisoner of The Ba'gamnan siblings and oddly, he didn't consider that to be the most fun he'd had in a while. Xigbar might consider his Jyllandi license a good thing, but he obviously didn't know anything about his so-called 'city of birth'. Being from a long-abandoned city was probably way weirder than having nothing at all listed.
Regardless, he made his way to the bar to do the ordering.
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He seemed slightly on edge, like somebody awaiting the results of a medical test or academic examination. It wasn't quite nervousness, it didn't touch quite the same level of jumpiness, but he was obviously eager to see who he was supposed to meet and get gone. It was, quite obviously, badly concealed impatience.
When the scarred man with the eye patch ascended the staircase, he only glanced at him briefly, trying against all the odds not to make it clear how much he wanted to be out of that bar and out of not only the city, but the country too.
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Xigbar didn't waste time hesitating. Hesitation stood out when you were meeting someone for not entirely above board purposes, anyway. When two guys met in a public place, if the last one to show up had to pause and look around to make sure he'd got the right guy, you just knew he was up to something.
Instead, Xigbar ambled over to the table, pulled a chair out and around so the back was against the table, and slid onto it, folding his arms across the top of the backrest.
"You got ants in your pants?" He asked, as if he knew this guy perfectly well. "'Cause you're looking a little itchy to me."
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"Too much caffeine." He replied after a split-second of thought.
He put his hands flat on the table and did his best not to adjust how he was sitting, to avoid making himself look even more restless. After a moment, he clasped his hands together loosely, trying not to move so much that he continued to look out of his depth. It was difficult, given the circumstances, but he didn't want to make himself look too scared or wimpy to a man who had... obviously seen a bit of violence in his time. The jagged scar and the eye patch made him look extremely dangerous. Needless to say, it didn't put Simon at ease.
"Long John Silver," a moment of hesitation, "right?"
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He could feel the cogs of thought whirring away in the back of his own head, noticing things. No visible scars, soft, lily-white hands, neatly pressed suit. All these factors that Xigbar noticed without putting in any effort to notice.
It culminated in the single, conscious thought, I bet this guy has never been in a fight in his life.
"So, you got anything in mind for your vacation, or will you just head wherever the wind takes you?" It was a nicely roundabout way of discussing it. They'd sit, make apparent smalltalk while they had a drink, and leave together. Nice and smooth.
Xigbar just hoped it would actually go off like that.
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He'd never been off Jylland in his life. He was a purvama boy, born and bred. The mainland was a bit of a mystery to him, but he knew from studying and meeting those who had travelled that it wasn't quite as advanced as his home country was. They had more in the way of magic, less in the way of technology. Doctors were common enough, but using the mage arts for healing was far more prevalent.
"I'm not fussy about where we head first." He said, not finding it in himself to loosen up enough to give his shoulders a shrug.
First. He wasn't implying that he should take him round, more that he really didn't care where he ended up going, because he intended to move around until he was well off the radar anyway.
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"No itinerary then," he commented, and then looked at the doctor with pitying amusement; "tell me you've at least packed?" That was the important issue; the cargo, where it was, how much of it there was, and how they were going to get it to the ship.
And then there was the issue of money.
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"Of course I have. I'm hardly going to go travelling around the world without having packed my things." He told him, knowing full well he meant the cargo. "You needn't worry on my account."
He indicated the rather large case by his chair with a glance.
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"Beer," he slid that glass to Xigbar, "same for me," but bottled, "and you're a wine guy, right?"
Simon's expression said 'no', but he slid the stemmed glass in front of him with a half-threatening smile that very much said 'drink it, or you'll be wearing it when you blow your cover, pal' regardless of that.
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Then his demeanour switched back to the affable, cheerful dude once more as he asked, "You got your fare as well as a change of underwear, I hope?" Xigbar's fee was his main concern. Once he had confirmation on that, he really didn't care about anything else until they were in the air and out of range.
Once they were in the air and out of range there would be the pressing issue of where to leave this guy, and his cargo.
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...that was a lie. He rather liked being able to play the sidekick to the Order's main man of the moment, but figured that rather than appearing as the silent co-escort that Xaldin would have been, he seemed far more like the guy he'd brought along to break knees should the proceedings go sour.
His eyes were narrowed, fox-like and showed a predatory gleam, his grin was sharp and his hands, which were in full view, were visibly rough on the palms and undersides of the fingers from the use of handled weapons. He didn't look like the co-worker so much as a hitman and he was fine with that. He might not want the vicious, back-stabbing reputation that The Organization had bestowed him with, but he really liked picking on too-stiff nerds and this guy was a prize.
He leaned back in his chair, one hand wrapped around the neck of his bottle.
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"Of course," he said to the question, looking a little unimpressed at the implication that he might forget such an important thing. "I'm not so eager to see the world that I'd forget that."
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He picked up his beer and took a long drink. He noticed that Axel seemed to be enjoying himself, too. Axel always had suited the role of a bastard, and he played it well. Probably too well for the doctor's taste, but if he wanted fluffy bunnies and kid gloves, he was in the wrong line of work right now.
Assuming this was a line of work, anyway. He seemed far more like he just wanted to get the hell out of here, and quickly; a fact which intrigued Xigbar, but he didn't address, yet. There'd be time for that when they wouldn't be overheard.
"So do you know anything about the world you're off to see, or are you going in blind as well?"
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Being able to appear nice and giving people no reason to question it was just as useful to him as looking like he was somebody not to be messed with and he could tell from Simon's occasional unsure glances that he wasn't about to mess with him.
Useful, considering he didn't want to die by papercuts or ink poisoning.
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And he would like to avoid them all, thank you. He wasn't going to point that out in the tavern, but he definitely wanted to not go to any of them. If it was a pleasure trip, he wouldn't be so fussy, but he wanted to stay off the radar and unrecognised for as long as possible.
He wondered how well the search was going for himself and his cargo. He hoped it wasn't going well, because that would give him a little bit more time to get out, hopefully before they stationed guards at all of Jylland's aerodromes.
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