The glide of white orbs drifted to the side. The milky pale eye unfocused disturbingly, the other glossed as Ryker’s attention shifted between the senses. The bartender’s chest hovered in front of him. Ryker’s sickly eyes rolled up. “What?”
The guy nodded toward the glass dripping condensation. “More water, sir?”
Ryker’s stare was flat. “I’ll let you know what I want when I want it.” The bartender shrugged, skin thickened by years catering to egotistical clientele. The bow of the man’s head settled approvingly with Ryker. The sign of appropriate manners doled out to those to whom it was due. A nice change of pace for once.
It was sounds of more salivating conversation nearby that distracted from Ivan’s arrival. He didn’t outright ignore the man, but it was obvious the eavesdropping was a distraction. He leaned close to the cop, voice conspiratorially low, “always gather information. Everything can be used.”
The haunted smile of a professional manipulator bloomed reassuringly. Monsters were of sudden interest to Ryker. Ivan was absent for the main event of the ball. Their innate, philosophical right to life was a conversation he gave two shits about, though. How to kill the things that wanted to kill him, slightly more important. How to use this knowledge to leverage his own ends? Imperative.
He snuffed dismissively and returned a greater proportion of his attention to Ivan.
“Well, you look like shit. What happened to you after—?” The question trailed to rhetorical silence and perhaps a slim jab of defeat highlighted. The aroma of beer pulled at dead memories of an old life, meanwhile.
He made himself ignore it.
The guy nodded toward the glass dripping condensation. “More water, sir?”
Ryker’s stare was flat. “I’ll let you know what I want when I want it.” The bartender shrugged, skin thickened by years catering to egotistical clientele. The bow of the man’s head settled approvingly with Ryker. The sign of appropriate manners doled out to those to whom it was due. A nice change of pace for once.
It was sounds of more salivating conversation nearby that distracted from Ivan’s arrival. He didn’t outright ignore the man, but it was obvious the eavesdropping was a distraction. He leaned close to the cop, voice conspiratorially low, “always gather information. Everything can be used.”
The haunted smile of a professional manipulator bloomed reassuringly. Monsters were of sudden interest to Ryker. Ivan was absent for the main event of the ball. Their innate, philosophical right to life was a conversation he gave two shits about, though. How to kill the things that wanted to kill him, slightly more important. How to use this knowledge to leverage his own ends? Imperative.
He snuffed dismissively and returned a greater proportion of his attention to Ivan.
“Well, you look like shit. What happened to you after—?” The question trailed to rhetorical silence and perhaps a slim jab of defeat highlighted. The aroma of beer pulled at dead memories of an old life, meanwhile.
He made himself ignore it.