(Untitled)

[dead_comrade]

((OOM: Jack considers his situation and decides, unsurprisingly, it sucks. But he has a mission to finish.))Jack in the bar, doing nothing more sinister than sharpening his knife and quietly observing the people around him

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[will_scarlett]

Will is currently returning to his seat by the fire with a new mug of ale and looking rather bruised but well when he sees Krauser.

He gives a cautious smile, "Thank ye 'gain, sir, can I get ye a drink or dinner?"

[dead_comrade]

"Got worse after I left?" Krauser doubts it; that doesn't look like a fight to the death to him. Too many bruises for weapons, no marks on the neck. "Drink will work."

[will_scarlett]

"Oh nay, this was afterwards, fought with Atton 'bout who's fault it was Tristran got 'urt."

He calls over a wait rat to order Krauser whatever he wants to drink.

[dead_comrade]

Hunh?

". . . which of you shot him?"

[lissla_lissar]

Lissar is watching him. She's not entirely certain she's welcome, and at a wrong look she'll be gone as fast as the ghost she resembles, but she's watching.

[dead_comrade]

Not a wrong look, not even a look; a sort of turn of the head as he becomes aware of her, but she's not giving him trouble.

Interesting to be observed instead. It doesn't usually happen.

"Evening."

The knife's in perfect condition, but to him there's something lacking.

[lissla_lissar]

"Good evening." Lissar says in turn, watching him work with the knife, "You love the knife, as I do Ash."

That's just a fact.

[dead_comrade]

He considers it. "Where'd you get the dog?"