[ P ] never fully dressed without a smile

Somewhere in a town not far from the border, roughly in between two military outposts, disgruntled patrons spilled out of a tavern. Some left willing, and some, mostly the more inebriated ones, were dragged out by soldiers. Nicharion watched the proceedings with a stone expression, thoroughly annoyed by the sheer inconvenience of it all. The only silver lining was that he had the foresight not to count on the proprietor's reason to close early and brought enough troops to secure the perimeter regardless. When the last wolf was at last escorted out, the red brute flicked an ear to command the attention of the soldier who's been in charge of micromanaging this operation. Thank the gods he could delegate at least that much effort, with everything else that he had to manage these days... "Watch the door while the others patrol the area. No one but Officer Alastor is to enter, is that clear?" The soldier should thank his lucky stars that his answer was a simple 'Yes, sir!'. On better days, Nicharion had a fair amount of patience to spare. Today, however, he would immediately choose a different soldier to burden with responsibility, should he have any reason to be dissatisfied. With all the preparations done, he walked into the tavern with relaxed, yet firm steps.

After a quick look over to ensure no stragglers remained and the place it was in acceptable condition, he approached the bar, and behind it, the only wolf who remained inside. "Apologies. Army business, you understand." It was an apology only in words and not in the tone of his voice, but even that much was a kindness on his part. The barkeep opened his mouth, but a frown from the major quickly clarified that he wasn't interested in hearing any of it. "Bring some wine out, then go for a walk." While the man was busy complying with his demands, Nicharion seated himself by the bar, then poured himself a cup as the bartender scurried out.

After taking a sip and deeming the wine far from a delight, but acceptable, he sighed to himself and attempted to loosen up a little. He didn't really want to do be doing this, much less being the one setting the meeting up... but orders are orders. And as the one with more time holding a border post under his belt, he'd been told to extend this courtesy. Having to coordinate with another officer could prove to be quite the thorn in his side, too... but there's also a chance it could be a boon. It all depends on what kind of wolf this Alastor turns out to be, behind the visage that rumors portray.

manip + code: clae

Saora… What a fucking joke. A Royalist dressed in gray and black guarded the invisible border that kept the filthy Highlanders away. They were nothing but traitors in a stolen land. But his outpost was rather desolate. His life had become monotonous, each day rather the same. There were no invaders to repel. And so when an invitation was extended to meet one of his own, Alastor accepted it, but of course! The pretense of meeting was unimportant to him. Official duties or some other business. He had his doubts that such a meeting, with the certain wolf who had asked him there, was the work of their commanding officers. Regardless. It was certain to be entertaining.

Alastor had arrived just in time to see soldiers hauling drunken fools from the chosen rendezvous – a tavern, of all places! Waiting until the last of the bar’s patrons were removed, the warrior made his way into the building with swift, deliberate steps. He cast the other soldier keeping watch a smile and a nod, saying nothing, for his reputation often preceded him. Upon his muzzle he sported a jagged grin that seemed to reach from one ear to the other.

It was easy enough to find his fellow soldier, since no one remained, not even the barkeep. The empty establishment caused Alastor to click his tongue as his eyes swayed from one side of the place to the other. Fluid movements carried him to where the other soldier sat with wine before him ”All of this, just for me? Why, you shouldn’t have.” Each word enunciated with great intentionality in a too-cheerful voice. He carried with him an air of gravitas, of confidence he had earned on the battlefield.

He appraised his peer, silently for a fleeting moment, finding few visible blemishes on his form and features, despite the onslaught of war that had left so many disfigured and hideous. This absence of scars indicated one of two things: that he was a coward and had avoided the battles, or that he had been so skilled that he had scarcely sustained wounds at all – much like Alastor himself. ”Ah, Nicharion. You’re looking quite well on this fine day.” Laced in his uplifting tones were the underpinnings of unspoken judgment, tinged with a healthy dose of suspicion. ”I’ve heard about you.” That was all he would offer – nothing positive nor negative, only vague hints.

"What's the occasion that brings us together? Good news, I hope? New orders? Or..." His voice drifted off into nothingness as he watched the ruby-eyed man closely. He had his misgivings when it came to trusting others, especially when they were practically strangers. But he had heard about Nicharion. And it was important to maintain the right connections, after all. There was no guessing when they could become useful to him. Crimson sights examined the brute with barely veiled suspicion.

Did he detect the hint of Highlander scent carried on the other man's coat? Very interesting…



@Nicharion

coding: gutz

Nicharion was in the middle of a sip when a crimson-eyed monochrome wolf crossed the tavern's threshold, and it nearly made him choke. A more careful second glance quickly revealed that the fur patterns were different than what he knew, that it wasn't Crow, and immense relief washed over him. The situation would prove quite difficult to handle, had his haughty lover somehow found his way here. Still, the resemblance... fate was hellbent on teasing him, it would seem.

Despite being caught so off guard, the red brute let none of it show, regarding the other male with an impassively reserved gaze. He rose from his seat briefly to offer a nod in greeting, carefully testing the waters until he gets a clear idea of just how serious about following protocol this Alastor is... and his first words would point towards a 'not very much'. Initial impressions can be deceiving, but the same can be said for rumors. "It is merely due diligence. No matter what we discuss, it wouldn't do to risk any Jacobite sympathizers listening in." he replied in matter-of-fact manner, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Of course, it wasn't the only reason. A show of strength, nothing so drastic as to instill much resentment, but nonetheless making it clear that the Imperial Army is in charge here, no matter how close Saora might be. And while his troops would never say they'd take this task over time off, getting to order people around was likely good for their morale.

Ah, but it would be needlessly patronizing to explain as much to a fellow officer. An officer who appeared to be far more focused on him than the setting of their meeting, mere inches beneath that chipper exterior... "Not one for stiff formalities, I see. Fine by me." Nicharion leaned back in his sit, relaxing a bit more as he waved a paw to gesture to the other end of the table and a second glass of wine that waited there. The way Alastor said just enough to be unnerving, no more, no less, was masterfully measured... but the major knew he had nothing but impressive results on his record, even if a little bloody. As for his criminal past, well.. he couldn't know if the upper brass was aware of it or not, but while he didn't flaunt it, he never acted like it was a secret to be kept hidden, either. And he wasn't about to start now. "I should hope so. Just as I've heard about you." Two can play at that game, and his pleasant smile and glimmer of amusement in his eyes indicated his inclination towards playing.

"Indeed." he confirmed the other's guesses as he turned to his glass, before taking another sip and letting the wine linger on his tongue for a while before he swallowed and continued. "We are to coordinate our efforts here. Unified front, joint practices, making sure nothing slips through in between.. so on and so forth." All very reasonable, even if seemingly beneath the pay grade of someone of Alastor's repute. And yet... here they are. "That, and of course me offering you a warm welcome to this... prestigious position, as someone who's been here for a while now." He allowed himself a hint of sarcasm, revealing the card of his disappointment in having this post... a card that, he hoped, might be in Alastor's hand as well. "Company that's not burdened by having to answer to you directly, if you're so inclined." Volcanic eyes shifted back to the black and white officer, intently watching out for his reactions. They could keep this strictly professional, of course... but there wasn't much to kill time with out here. And most of all, Nicharion needed actual allies in the army. The lack of connections still made him feel like an outsider playing pretend... and maybe that's all he'll ever be, but that's only for him to know.

Of course, he wasn't about to trust anyone easily... but it was better to show that he was open to the possibility, rather than to wall himself off with suspicions. "Or, perhaps they're hoping you have some senior officer advice to offer? Not that they'd tell me as much." Nicharion shrugged and reached for his wine again, but he was only half-joking. It was in the army's best interest that someone capable doesn't make unnecessary and costly mistakes... and who can be more familiar with such mistakes than Alastor, if the rumors are to be believed?

manip + code: clae