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So, these are Reavers? Nice preview, but they're ugly as fuck. Nothing like walking embodiments of 'things could always be worse'. Ha. No sign of, say, sirens or Circe? Beauty can be deadly and all that. Easier on the eyes, too
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Nevertheless, he skirts the Reaver-looking things with care whenever he spots one, and manages to arrive unscathed on Ingles Trail, clothing stores--those bring back a few memories of his own arrival here.
No losing focus, now.
And that had to be his man--dark as scorched, looking completely off-kilter in modern clothing with shitloads of gold hanging off him--it actually makes a rather hilarious picture. He's careful to blank his expression and pull out his communicator before hailing the guy.]
"You're Bakura?"
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A figure--androgynous and pale-skinned with hair the color of straw--emerges into his line of vision is heading towards his current location. This must be Mello; he has seen the man before, on this "Halloween" festival, but only from afar.
He begins to reply verbally upon reading the message, but quickly stops himself (fucking language barrier) and with a 'hmph' slowly draws out a reply.]
"i am . then i take it you are mello ."
{ooc: This is assuming that the comms have touch screens and he draws the glyphs with his finger.]
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None other.
[Bakura has a wicked scar clawing its way down one side of his face, the opposite from his own--it makes them into a strange sort of mirror. He doesn't know why he's finding everything funny today--maybe irony just likes him right now.
Anyway, this particular thread of his plans has been delayed long enough; after the last trip down to the sewers he's more than ready to implement a little more efficiency into their arrangements.]
You want to stand out here or try your luck inside? There might be monsters hiding in there, but they usually keep to the shadows until after dark.
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[He stares down the other as he slowly reads the translated glyphs, barely moving his jaw to silently mouth the words as he read. Although he would consider this man an ally, paranoia and experience have the better of him. He can be trusted (comparatively speaking, he didn't really trust anyone other than himself), but he'd be a fool to let his guard down. Hence the knife in his pants pocket--a technological advance Bakura was particularly fond of.
--He nods.]
'indoors . we are just as vulnerable if notmore to being attacked by beasts here .'
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[He leads the way in to disguise the amusement flashing across his features; Bakura's stiffer (and probably twitchier) than that ass-for-brains Neylon after the shinigami eyes, and that's saying something.
He looks like he's weathered some shit, at least, which is both good and bad for Mello's purposes. Mostly good, since the ones who slip through the cracks in society are easy to take in; and he's more than used to dealing with gun-toting (not that Bakura knows what a gun is, now that he thinks of it), backstabbing, generally dangerous individuals in all walks of life.
Once inside, Mello perches himself on one of the counters, one leg pulled up and manner easy.]
Let me tell you why you're here, then.
I've told you I might need your services as a professional. Largely your sense of direction, depending on how wide your area of operation usually is.
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He lets out a low chuckle of amusement.]
seeking the services of a thief is unheard of in my homeland , though im definitely not opposed to the idea .
obviously my previous experiences were in entirely different settings but beyond face value its all the same . i know this city and parts of the surrounding forest like the back of my hand . i assume that you wish to go beyond the city limits which would be of little trouble if not for several inconveniences .
[There's also the matter of payment, but firstly, Bakura doesn't have the patience to write anymore--it takes him long enough as is--and secondly, he wishes to hear the other man out.]
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