Just another night at Red Lion Tavern

[Guest]

It was always a habit for Blanca Perez to show up promptly to her bar-tending job at approximately 9 o'clock in the evening, two hours after her shift in a supermarket 50 blocks away. The first thing she usually did was to meet with her boss, because the damn clocking machine was broken since day one. On good days, she would bug him about a concoction she conjured up on her own. Other times, such as today, she was not in the mood to put up with the inevitable rejection.

Blanca was bored.

The constant routine of working, sleeping, and repeating had worn her mind out to a messy and mashed up state; and the second thing Blanca would do would be to reflect on this boring, cyclical lifestyle. Her dull eyes seemed to be out of focus as she prepared her working space in swift, almost robot-like movements. "And I was thinking that working in a bar at central was going to be different." She thought to herself with a sigh as she wiped down an empty glass and lined it up next to six others by the counter. They still managed to gleam under the dim lighting.

The third thing Blanca would do would be to go through her mental checklist.

"Sink clean.. Check."

"Drinks lined up.. Check."

"Bar area presentable.. Check."

"Tip box ready.. Check."

And with that the final thing she would do, and also did before customers rolled in on this particular evening, would be to wish that something different would happen.

[Guest]

Verily customers began to flood into the tavern, inn, or whatever the modern lingo tends to call it nowadays. Particularly one stood out as pale and blonde, not in that order necessarily, with a black sequence followed by a pattern of grey and red. His uniform showed he was in fact on duty, and the closest equivalent Amestris has to a police officer. A security officer more specifically, and instead of arresting people, they are more likely to gun them down considering they are more in roots with the military than the judicial branches that comes from policing, and so on and so forth. Political notions not to be dabbled in. Oddly he carried a sword alongside a sidearm, a cavalry saber if anything that would've been more akin to being an archaic weapon that doesn't exactly belong to this age.

He saddled up at the nearest stool, this was his first time coming into this tavern. The regulars were clearly weary of the Security Officer, considering those on duty usually tend to be arresting somebody, or are in some sort of investigation. In the end, nothing ever good comes out of a Security Officer's presence, typically considering they rarely hang out in orderly establishments, as their reputation goes on and on.

The General crosses his arms to his stomach, taking a few glances around, nodding and shaking his head as if he was approving and disapproving of some things. Then looks for anything that superficially resembles a waiter or some sort of order herald, and smacks his palm into the counter, causing an audible thwack sound that resembles the cries of a pregnant whale.

"Oy, anyone here tending the bar?" He looks at Perez and points a finger, "You there with the studs! I'd like to order now, and don't worry, I treat gently."

[Guest]

Previously spaced out in her own little world of thoughts, Blanca immediately snaps back into reality as she hears the loud thwack. Slightly startled, she quickly brings up her pad and pen in hand and walks over to the officer.

"What can I get you?" Blanca asks casually with a slight Esparian accent. A golden tongue-ring managed to flash briefly as she spoke, but her equally bright cat-like eyes were steering clear from making contact with that of the officer's (and she has done so with everyone around her in order to avoid questioning). They did however linger on his uniform for a good five seconds. The tavern was rarely visited by military officials, so naturally Blanca was intrigued by the officer's presence. That, and the fact that she always had a thing for uniforms. But remembering that she had to lay low, lest she were to willing to be discovered by the men that wanted to sell her body, she immediately diverted her attention back to the pad and pen in front of her.

[Dai]

(Blanca! 150 words minimum! Just letting you know. <3)

[Guest]

OOC: Eek - didn't realize that.. Fixed it!

[Guest]

An eyebrow rose, catching a glimpse of where she was gazing at for those brief five seconds. A questionable place to look at, as in looking down at his uniform and all. Though that wasn't interpreted to be such the case.

"My face, it's up here, not down there." He cleared his throat. He could've sworn he saw slits for eyes from that brief angle he caught a glance of, piquing his curiosity most intensely of what manner of human she was, suddenly smiling unconsciously to what would be wishful thinking. He always had an investigative talent, and this one was worth investigating. Otherwise his burning desire to learn more of what exactly is an otherwise ordinary doing with some extraordinary traits and characteristics.

Though he let it go for now. His eyes browsed the many assortment of drinks around the shelves to see what sort of booze they served. Only for one to hit his fancy as he licked his lips to see one thing that struck to his most major liking. The one drink that resembles something he often sees, so often, he has grown comforted by anything that resembles it. He looks at the waitress again and points at the Bloody Mary.

"I'll have half a pint of that, and some fajitas if you serve anyone of those here. If not, I am feeling ethnic, so I'll pay extra for some of that." He leans back in a relaxed slouch, "Get me those in a minute and I'll hand you over a tip, consider it a challenge if you'd will."

[Guest]

Blanca bit her lip nervously at the insane request, for at this point there were plenty of things running through her mind. "Maybe he's on to something." She thought to herself. Not of what she was exactly, but perhaps she shouldn't have stared at his uniform. Nonetheless, tips were tips and she was rather curious as to who he was and what he was doing here.

"I can finish up your drink in that time, but the chicken for the Fajitas will take a few minutes on the pan." She replied. She figured she'd play along while trying to figure him out.

Setting an empty glass on her work station, Blanca fills it with ice, pours in tomato juice, vodka, a dash of Worcestershire sauce, lemon juice, and a pinch of hot-sauce; all in meticulous, yet swift movements. She mixes the ingredients, and for the final touch she garnishes the drink with a thin stalk of celery and a slice of lemon at the side. She hands the drink to the officer, about twenty seconds after accepting his challenge.

"If you need anything else, just let me know." She added as she handed him a menu before disappearing into the kitchen to prepare his food. She emerges five minutes later with a plate of fajitas, fresh from the pan. A trail of steam drifts from the meat as she sets the dish in front of him.

[Guest]

Perhaps she was contemplating over the worth of having to make something unavailable in a menu in conventional times? Or perhaps there was something else hidden from the Security Officer? Whichever the case, Nikolaus wasn't here on a warrant... not that he needed any. But it did make him deliciously curious, just what was it about this waitress that seemed out of the ordinary? Aside from what he could've sworn to be slits for eyes. Ah well, he'll find out, or probably not. In time or a lack of it anyways.

"I can finish up your drink in that time, but the chicken for the Fajitas will take a few minutes on the pan."

He claps loudly and smiles either pleasantly or maybe strangely depending on how someone takes a sudden smile despite no obvious signs that would arouse him to mirth, "Take all the time you need, I am in no hurry. I find this establishment to my interest."

He watched her dexterous handling of the devil's booze, making her own tonic of a Bloody Mary in a mixed drink. Finding it to his fancy how accurate she is in setting all of this in a brisk albeit haste pace. Finely not coming upon an accident before setting his drink over to him. Clapping a couple of times to see her display of exemplary showy bartending. Grabbing the drink and devouring the liquid in one fell gulp. Shaking his head as he made an audible 'Mmmm-mmm'. Leaving aside the celery and the other food ornaments though.

"If you need anything else, just let me know."

How kindly for her to offer, or was it? With her gone, he took the time to pull back his sleeves to look at the time, and inspect each of the patrons... he recognized some of them and they recognized him. Cartel members he roughed up when he used to be a Captain, and they were obviously edgy around him due to their history. Seating themselves at a corner apart from the General. No doubt they were just patrons in this establishment... but he waved to them with a smile before looking back at the kitchen. He still had a few minutes... so he spent those times staring at the Cartel members (or maybe they were ex-Cartel after he was through with them last time?) with a gleeful grin. Before... FAJITAS. His attention was inspired by the aroma that has come to fill his nostrils. She certainly was the punctual one.

Producing a wad of Cenz from the sleeves of his trench coat, tossing it over to the woman with an expecting gaze. The wad was gravitating left and right thanks to air resistance, high up above her head in some sort of wavy arc.

[Guest]

Her eyes were fixed on the prize, and in an instant she caught it with a hand that darted above her head to catch the bills in one swift movement. She brought the wad of cash in level with her chest and clenched it tightly in her small hands. She was definitely glowing from the big amount she received, as expressed by her dilated pupils, and turns to the officer with a smile. She figured that her moment of happiness would be the best time to gaze upon the eyes of the most generous tipper she's probably ever had, for she felt it would be rude to ignore him at this point.

"Thank you, sir!" She happily says, before finally looking down at the amount in her hands. It was definitely was way more than what she was used to receiving as a tip, and she couldn't help but feel undeserving of it. Her pupils shrink instinctively as she comes to that realization. The tasks he had put her through were quite simple, however a normal human being would probably still be stuck cleaning up the mess of liquids and condiments if they had attempted to keep up with her speed. Giving the unnecessary amount back to him, and the excuse she'd tell him could give her away.

"I wonder if he's testing me." She wondered as she placed the wad of cash in the front pocket of her apron. "And what exactly does he find interesting about this establishment?" She adds onto the thought, recalling what the officer has mentioned just a few minutes ago.

Undeserving or not, she'd have to put up a human facade and pretend she had emerged from a painstaking task. She figured she'd use the money for a good cause rather than blow it off clothes and compulsive buys as she did with her other saved tips. It was the least she could do.

[Guest]

It was true as he figured. She must be a hybrid, or in the most coarse way someone can put it, a mutant. But otherwise scientifically noted to be... a Chimera. Either that, or someone must be very generous to have given her an eye transplant. Whatever the case, Nikolaus knew her not to be human. Not that it troubled him in any way. His curiousity sated, and all at the price of Cenz. He caught a glimpse of her eyes, a final time to be certain and sure. It was all he needed, after all, just what are the odds of him having come across someone out of the ordinary? And in Nikolaus's line of work, it seems a lot of things out of the ordinary tends to occur most... verily so.

"Thank you, sir!" Ah, grateful was she? Hrm... detective instincts on! Probably a normal reaction from getting a large tip, that, or she must be within the crushing weight of destitute. Ah well, he wasn't in any place to judge which, whichever the case, he recognized her as a hybridized product of Alchemy.

"Do you know about the difference between evolution and mutation?" He pushes his finger up the visor of his cap, giving him a clearer sight of the girl, looking at her with dead seriousness, "Evolution is the gradual change of a being's characteristics on species as a whole, that fits them into favor with their environment... mutation on the other hand is often a unique change of a single creature's characteristics, and unlike evolution, is seen as a horrible abominable thing. A pity really, the masses can be ever so fickle." He shrugs and shrunk back to his aloof and jovial expression, and takes a bit out of his steaming fajita, swallowing a lump of his meal, "Mmmm-mmm, this is some damn good stuff. Really worth every Cenz! It's just wonderful~"

[Guest]

Her eyes contract into full slits upon hearing the officer's statement, and for a brief moment she recalls the laboratory, the barred cell, and the flashing lights from the transmutations. The screams and cries of helpless women, bond to the fate of a dishonorable profession looped in her head like a broken record player. But she quickly shoves the horror film scene into the back of her mind, after all a bar isn't the place to dwell on misfortunes.

"I can agree with you on the abomination part." Blanca started, "But I personally think the alchemists forcing these mutations are the bigger abominations." It was a rather simple opinion, voiced rather calmly. But if the stranger before her were to know her history, he'd understand the opinion would be associated with feelings of anger, pity, and regret. She should have gotten the sorry bastards that turned her into a monstrosity while she had the chance to, but her circumstances never opened a door to allow that, for she was too busy working odd jobs to survive and hide. That, and the entire experience made it difficult for her to trust anyone for aid.

Realizing she might have said a little too much to the officer, she quickly changes the topic, "So, what brings you here?" She inquires, looking back at his uniform with interest. "We never really have military men visit us.." She adds with a playful smile, after all a question for a question seemed fair. Plus, she needed to keep him at bay and figure out if he was in any way associated with the chimera trafficking business she had escaped from. But doing so, she understood, could be dangerous. Perhaps he wasn't even aware of what that whole business was about. But she was not going to let her guard down completely for a stranger.

[Guest]

"I can agree with you on the abomination part. But I personally think the alchemists forcing these mutations are the bigger abominations." The female said to Nikolaus.

The General chewed on his Fajita halfheartedly, a quarter gone and some more, taking in the meaty contents to his stomach's satisfaction. Going down to the last bit of bite of the unique food he had. Right afterwards, he puts on his gloves, having already wiped his hands with a tissue by him, leaving all traces of grease to preside within the finery this establishment produced, before finally giving his attention over to the girl. He listened all along intently, and smirked.

"Oh? You speak of it as if it was from personal experience." He says in feigned ignorance of her true condition, he knew of her at this point, but found some amusement in dabbling further this this banter. "To create something beautiful, one must do something ugly. Or so Alchemists tend to say."

"So, what brings you here? We never really have military men visit us.."

He tapped his chin and looked up pondering, only to look back at her with an aloof stare, "Killing time I suppose." He shrugs, "That, and I came to see a few old friends." He looks back to wave at the Cartel members, whom in turn drop their menu and start fleeing the inn in lieu to the officer and his finer points of their otherwise rocky history. Nikolaus looked back at the waitress, "See? Old friends."

[Guest]

The streets were wiped out around this time of the time. People were anything but out and about, so a bunch of men sprinting out of a bar would rather stand out. Especially the fear that was deeply carved into the faces of those vagabonds was an extraordinary sight. Something must have obviously caused some sort of placebo-effect on them which in turn would cause them to cry at one point or another, perhaps not, yet nonetheless it would be rather amusing. Not to Heinrich though. He knew nothing about sympathy or mercy. The rules of nature were more his thing than the holier-than-thou conformities which modern civilization forced onto the men and women of this age. Possibly that way of thinking is the root of his thinking about women, but that is completely off topic. Much rather he decided that he should stop the men from running around in such an unforgiving way and naturally his uniform did well to aide him in that case. The serious look upon his face, the cold and blank stare which his revealed eye carried so naturally and the ominous presence which he always appeared to carry with him so naturally. For any normal John boy it was enough to strike a set of fear into them, but these hooligans just stopped for a moment, glanced at the officer and grinned. Obviously they did not know where they found themselves in and in turn they were soon faced with a proper beating. Agonized screams could easily be heard from outside the inn or bar, whatever fancy term one finds fitting, and soon the screaming would be mixed with crying and unspeakable curses, but from one moment to another the noise would quiet down when three thuds were the last noise that was heard.

”A befitting end.” was the statement that one could possibly have heard if one had the ears and the attention for it. In turn the man that was previously possibly heard from outside now entered the inn as conveniently as he’d enter his own home. The uniform not showing a single sign of what had possibly could have happened outside, but in turn the weird sword which the man carried at his left hip presented the clicking noise of being re-sheathed as a greeting upon entering. The Warrant noticed another man sitting on a chair at the counter, another man in uniform. A blonde bastard, that much Heinrich could tell. A blonde bastard as Heinrich himself is one. He now removed his cap which seated naturally on his heat and he then put it down at the counter. ”Greetings.”, the Warrant officer stated before he so comfortably took the chair next to the other man in uniform, to the right specifically. Heinrich looked up. His left eye looked at Blanca who was just having a conversation with the other man in uniform whom had just appeared to have finished a sentence or so. ”I’d enjoy a glass of fine single malt whiskey, darling. If you may be as nice as to present such to me, you’d find that I would be most delighted.”

[Guest]

Watching the cartel members leave, Blanca couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and wonder what the officer might have done to cause them to leave in such haste. She figured it would be best not to ask. "Well.. They seem to respect you." She managed to comment, as she watched the last man push his way out of the exit. An audible ruckus manages to reach her ears before she notices a second officer enter the establishment, and she couldn't help but stare at him while she mentally attempted to piece the puzzle together. One visitor from the military was rather unusual for the tavern, and now there were two.

"This night is getting a little crazy." She thought to herself as she took a final quick glance at the door, wondering what happened to the customers that had just left. She turned to her second customer and took note of his request. “Alright sir, I’ll get it to you in a jiffy.” She said as she turned her back on the two officers to gaze upon the bottles displayed proudly on their shelves. After a brief moment of scanning, she spots the requested drink at the very top and reaches for it. Bringing it down, she grabs an empty glass and turns back to face her new customer, avoiding eye contact with him as she usually did with all her customers. “Would you like that on the rocks?” She added as she opened the bottle of whiskey, the scent of the liquid within it began to surround her like an invisible cloud of perfume. This was a strong one, she thought to herself as she looked in the direction of her first customer.

Despite being unable to figure out what his intentions were, she still couldn't forget the man who generously tipped her. "Would you also like something else to drink, sir?" She offered.

[Guest]

Yep, friends indeed. The fuzzy feeling Nikolaus gets when he wants to drive a saber into those drug dealing goombas. Or something along those lines. Point was for him, he didn't really sympathize with them as opposed to enjoyed playing around with their otherwise human emotions of fear, of authority, and of keeping them in line. Often it is better to control them than to eliminate them... in some instances. And at others? Well, Security has a reputation of shooting someone before they arrest them. A reputation that often precedes them indeed.

"Well.. They seem to respect you."

He cackled at the statement, "Respect and fear go along hand in hand in their mentality." Indeed, thugs and whichever primitive kind of apes, also known as humans, tend to be so bullheaded to respect strength of the body, and much rarely strength of the mind. It is probably why thugs tend to be stupid in general, and often do crimes so sloppily, they are caught in the act and appropriately dealt with in this case and event.

Though the General snapped his head to look at the source of whatever symphony of chaos ailed for him. It longed for his attention, and verily his attention has been paid in kind. Inclining his head to the aspect that was the exit and entry way towards this particular inn and an establishment. His lips extended back to reveal a toothy delightful grin of this... beautiful tempest that soothes his soul in a lullaby that is found most familiar to Nikolaus. So, who was this that his eyes could sense the presence of, yet could not see yet visually? Who was it that called out to Nikolaus in a way that he enjoyed their company without ever meeting him? This sense... this life force he can see, it was not anything he recognized as signature-like often most carry itself. Nay. He committed this to memory immediately upon the vestiges of his myriad of memories that swirl about, yet for whatever chaotic order is kept in Nikolaus, he can recall them at a moment's notice that be his memory.

"A befitting end." His sharp ears picked that up from the gentleman outside. He heard it fully and in its entirity. It was so well worded, so well played. Yet what came inside wasn't anything ordinary. Unlike Nikolaus, this Warrant Officer (as Nikolaus noted by the shoulder insignia denoting rank) was very much unique in his appearance. Too hard to pass off the fact he has a Fascist gaze, an eyepatch and gaunt features, whereas the Brigadier General would mostly be described as looking like "an ordinary Amestrian". Aye, but something about him didn't rub him off the wrong way, but fascinated him. Yep, he was a cheeky little bugger, killing those people outright without making much of a mess of himself. Having a seat next to Nikolaus if anything. Not that the General didn't appreciate the finer company of a junior officer, just that he didn't often mingle with lower rankers. They had things to do often, and looks like this was the first one whom actually finished his duties... whomever he was. Oh wait... now he recognized him. This guy... he is the new Head of Power. Strange for someone a mere Warrant Officer, but he'll get by. Probably get ranked up to a General in a year. That's the weird part about Amestrian rankings and how they work.

"I’d enjoy a glass of fine single malt whiskey, darling. If you may be as nice as to present such to me, you’d find that I would be most delighted."

He clapped once to what he heard, "Fine tastes you have, Warrant Officer. But let me get closer to let you know of a little secret about... a winery." He leans close until he was about near Heinrich's ears and whispers lowly to him with his hand cupping his mouth (helps to lessen sound), "There is a little surprise for you. Notice her eyes, Warrant Officer, they will strike you as most odd." He leans away and assumes his upright stiff and proper position by the counter.

Nikolaus raised his hand and gestured to Blanca, "I'll have the same thing as he is having!"

[Guest]

The tanned female bartender rewarded Heinrich’s kind request by telling him that he would be able to soothe himself with the exquisite tastes which a fine Whiskey presented itself soon. She remembered to ask whether he’d like it on the rocks, but ice is not an option for Heinrich unless it’s a blend or if the whiskey was cask strength, as then the watering down of the melting ‘rocks’ would help the flavour to come out. A single malt on the other hand was just a completely nice drink that is best enjoyed if it’s hand warm, as it’s called. ”No rocks for me darling.” a small smile was posed on the serious face of the officer. Of course, even someone as serious as him dislikes to carry a serious look on his face all day – though it’s not like he had not unintentionally gotten used to it. After all, he’s become quite of age already and has had his own share of scenes and sights and in turn that leaves you to adapt an unchanging face. The General had commented on the fine taste which the Warrant Officer displayed in the bar. In turn he wanted to share a secret about winery with him and thus the General had leaned in for the ear of Heinrich, whispering the message that would eventually catch the interest of the Warrant Officer. After all, eyes are supposedly the gateway to the soul. If there is something that would peak the interest of a general in the eyes of the lady that was serving them drinks, then it was quite nice of the General to assume that the Warrant would also find a certain amount of interest in that. ”Answer me though. Are you allowed to smoke in here?” The Warrant Officer replied as he pulled out a small case that is commonly used to safely transport cigars while it also served as a fine way to protect the flavour of the cigars. As the girl would eventually turn around to answer the question or at least as she’d serve the drink which the Officer had ordered, said officer would take his chance and divert his eye to find the interesting part in the female’s eyes which the General had shared note of.

”Well General. As far as introductions go.. I am called Heinrich Johann Hochmann, Warrant Officer in rank and currently administering the position of Head of Power, here at Central HQ.” Heinrich introduced himself finally after he would have caught a glimpse at the female’s eyes, trying his best to keep it at unintentional bay which should actually work though. Now the female sure was an interesting one with her eyes, which should be commented on at a later point, but the General himself was an interesting fellow as well. Though in a different aspect… Different aspects. His breath did not smell of the usual… It smelled rather cretan, which in turn would mean that his breath smelled of blood, for one would usually order a steak to be rare or English and thus bloody. Traces of that bloody stench which a battlefield man like Heinrich would recognize at any point, hailing from the mouth of the badass General. Also the changed uniform was something to note, at least for Heinrich that is, though he had seen other high-ranked officers running around like a lewd bitches – wearing clothes hardly fit for battle and even less for administrative options. But Heinrich did not have the best of sight on the higher-ups in Central as of yet, he never had for they just were no comparison to the men that trained him from his youth on. ”What brings you here at this time of the day, General … ? “

[Guest]

The young woman took note of their requests as she grabbed another glass, filling them both to the brim with liquor. Perhaps her boss would kill her for pouring in so much, but eh. Being his best barmaid so far, she figured a scolding was all she’d get at the end of her shift. Her first and foremost priority was to make them forget what they may have seen, and the liquids within the bottles, twinkling splendidly on the shelves, were the only tools available for that job. She had an odd feeling, and she just couldn't let worry consume her the next day.

“Answer me though. Are you allowed to smoke in here?”

The young woman turns to the men with their drinks, looking in the direction of the inquirer. "Of course!" She replies, resting a filled glass on the bar counter to grab a clean ashtray for the man. She sets it in front of him and proceeds to serving their drinks.

“This is for you,” She says as she places a rather filled up glass by Heinrich, “And for you.” She adds, placing an identical glass by Nikolaus. A friendly smile manages to surface on her tanned face before she faces the arrangement of booze to return the bottle of whiskey, leaving the two to their conversation. Her golden eyes immediately become fixated on her favorite brand of tequila upon setting the bottle back in it’s place, but oh what a mess that would put her in if she were invited to drink with the officers.

Remembering the last time she has a nice long chat with the previous bottle of Don Julio, she.. Well.. That was the thing, she just couldn't remember anything except waking up in the same clothes, fortunately alone in her own bed, and her boss screaming at her the next evening for finishing the bottle. She couldn't help but smile to herself at the image of his angry face, red like a beet in contrast to the usual pale. However there was still that annoying pang of paranoia that nagged her whenever she thought about how much information she exchanged with that last customer who found her of interest. It troubled her a lot more than the new bottle she had to pay for, the one that was now resting on the shelf.

[Guest]

Booze. How is it he had so much trouble getting drunk from the devil's finery? Not that he recalls that time he was ever drunk, except that one time he was at Galicia's place. He couldn't remember a thing, and that time he had a bit too many of the strongest booze around. Sometimes his resistance can be a blessing, and a curse. But most of the time, he doesn't mind the fact he doesn't really get hammered after a few strong stuff. A man that can hold his booze is a man that's pretty tough indeed, and not a damned lightweight that gets tipsy-topsy from a few drinks. Though he grew to envy the fact the Warrant Officer was at a liberty to smoke. Abstinence from tobacco is starting to weigh down on Nikolaus, that irritation roused from his chest, as he felt the thirst to have some smoke, but DAMNIT, his special physicians told him to cut that out otherwise he'd be cutting down on performances. Such was the travesty he suffered so, but he'll prevail. Or something along those lines.

"Well General. As far as introductions go.. I am called Heinrich Johann Hochmann, Warrant Officer in rank and currently administering the position of Head of Power, here at Central HQ."

Heinrich eh? So he is the new Head of Power as he said. A position really reserved for higher spot people, but for a Warrant Officer to take it must say a lot about his exemplary abilities as a leader... or probably has to do with a case of knowing with friends in the right places. In either regards, he has the position which was long left vacant by the tides of lethargy and whatever ample roach melancholy has taken hold of this badness. At least someone has the guts to step up in the big games that is Central Command. The fact Heinrich wears non-Security blue means he isn't a subordinate of Nikolaus's anyways, but an entire organization in the military altogether. As opposed to Nikolaus wearing black.

"Bah. Finally logistics got their asses moving and placed someone in the Head of Power spot. It was left vacant for far too long," He shook his head before giving a lazy salute, "Brigadier General Nikolaus Stuka, Chief Director of the entire organization of Security residing in Central HQ on my end. As the Fonzie's say, good to meet you too."

"What brings you here at this time of the day, General…?"

Stuka dramatically waves his hand around in a pointless way, elaborating something nonsensically sensible in a myriad of mazes, before ceasing his mannerism to look at Heinrich's eyes... eye, with his own Hawkish eyes, giving a neutral expression as opposed to his constant jovial smile.

"To murder time ever so... lividly." He says quaintly and punctually, "I find evenings to my fancy, the night just has a lovely moon and a darkness I ever so... admire. I am a night person you can say. And yourself, Warrant Officer? I don't think you're at as much liberty as I am to take an evening to relax."

He looks at the waitress with a smirk afterwards, right, he shouldn't forget she is still the highlight of interest mainly, highly unusual to see a Chimera around, "Ah right! Do you have a name, Fraulein? Or shall I refer to you as Fraulein from now on then?"

[Guest]

The lady behind the counter of the tavern was as kind as to reply to Heinrich’s request or rather question by answering with a gentle ‘Of course’ and the necessary ashtray which she in turn placed before the Warrant Officer on the counter. The man then proceeded to put a cigar into his mouth, take out a pack of matches. Sadly it appeared to have been drenched at one point which was easily noticeable due to the water marks and the run down paint job the little box had received. A soft sigh was expressed by the Officer as he reached inside his uniform’s inside pocket, taking out a sturdy metal lighter. It was a good eight centimeter in length, formed rather closely to a key hole cylinder and it produced the smell that the fuel the tanks use lets off as well. The flame was a strong orange color and within the blink of an eye the cigar in the mouth of the officer was ablaze. He puffed once or twice until he inhaled the smoke for the first time. Though some smokers might briefly pull the sides of their mouths up as they take the first few strokes from a cigar or cigarette, Heinrich’s face stayed in it’s usual facial expression – rather serious.

The lady of the liquid joy then was as kind as to fulfil the Warrant’s previous request of a fine glass of scotch, a single malt, and hell be damned, but she certainly wasn’t saving the liquid gold up for bad times. She was put one mighty generous glass in front of the Warrant and of course she had complied to the General’s request as well and put a glass which was filled in the same way in front of the General. Naturally, she might just be trying to conceal her own secret which was rather obvious to men of the military who often are sent out to annihilate those of her kind, or probably even worse, bring them back into top secret laboratories of which eighty percent of the military don’t know even that they exist.

"Bah. Finally logistics got their asses moving and placed someone in the Head of Power spot. It was left vacant for far too long. Brigadier General Nikolaus Stuka, Chief Director of the entire organization of Security residing in Central HQ on my end. As the Fonzie's say, good to meet you too." A lazy salute was given by the General mid-talk as he elaborated upon his position within the military. "To murder time ever so... lividly." He said ever so quaintly and punctually, "I find evenings to my fancy, the night just has a lovely moon and a darkness I ever so... admire. I am a night person you can say. And yourself, Warrant Officer? I don't think you're at as much liberty as I am to take an evening to relax."

Naturally the General was right there. Usually a newly appointed Head of Power of the mere rank of a Warrant Officer shouldn’t be lurking around in bars, taverns, strip clubs, or anything of such an entertainment side of the Central City life, but alas, as things go, there are things that can wait and others that need to be taken care of. ”Well, General Stuka, it is less the thing of being at the liberty as much as it is of finding it within the spectrum of your abilities to steal the night away. Frankly, and I suppose you would know yourself, the office is not a place someone like me is too adequately fit. In all actuality, I wouldn’t read you as the kind of man either who dwells in the office and dreams of going home to have dinner after a long and harsh night of paperwork. Much rather, if you permit me the liberty of speaking my mind, I read you as a man who very well enjoys the life on the bright side of life which, coming from me, means that your home seems to be more on the battlefield. Instead however, you have adapted to the position of a Security hound. It is hardly different form the battlefield, just less in the open and with easier cover. Naturally for a marksman that appears to be quite the advantage. However, I even doubt that you find the satisfaction you seek in the mere hunt for criminal suspects or the detecting of threads to the general public.”, the Warrant Officer paused for a moment, he then gave a small chuckle. ”Of course those are just things I can read with this one eye of mine and sadly enough it’s always been the worse one. Haha.” A small joke to not provoke the bear, but perhaps more things would surface as the conversation of the two continued. Or, which could also happen, is that the Director of Security would find the need to make an example of Heinrich. Naturally, that’s something the bastard couldn’t let himself get degraded to. After all he had to ascend to greater highs within the Military still for that time…

[Guest]

At this point, she was cleaning through her work space, paying no attention to the two officers' conversation, or so it seemed. Her eyes were fixed intently on the tasks before her as she shifted through the counter, scratching items off her mental check-list as she completed each one. Being within auditory range of them however, she couldn't help but to soak in some parts of their conversation. This topic on military business was something she was somewhat, but not entirely familiar with.

Naturally her animal instinct of prying at something unknown to her, something that teased her mind with countless questions, was the main culprit of her eavesdropping, and something she sometimes found to be a curse. She was well aware that expressing interest wouldn't really help her cause of staying away from trouble. Letting these officers go by the normal run of entering the establishment, getting a drink, and hopefully leave her at peace by the end of her shift was her new goal of this evening. Perhaps even pleasing them by being extra accommodating or even flirtatious, just to veer away from the possibility of being taken away for.. Ah, she couldn't bear the thought of being in a lab once more. Curiosity killed the cat, after all.

Lost in thoughts, she suddenly hears the first officer call for her attention.

"Ah right! Do you have a name, Fraulein? Or shall I refer to you as Fraulein from now on then?"

Oh, Fraulein was fine. It would definitely make things easier on her. But then again, remaining by honorifics were no fun, especially when she had a feeling they already knew. Sticking with such would only divert her from another goal she had this evening, of finding out why one officer, or possibly both since there were two of them now, would taken some sort of interest in what she was. What would give them reason to swap intentions if they knew nothing of her? Even though knowing wouldn't benefit her in any way she was aware of, her instincts kept prodding her towards the path of investigation. And with investigation, comes danger. Some would consider it risky, but she was more focused on the thrill.

She looks up from her station and gazes at the two men before her, "Blanca Perez, barmaid at your service." She replies with the warm, typical smile you'd find on most staff members that worked in such joints as the tavern. "And what names do you gentlemen go by?" She asks in return. It was a needless question based solely on formality, for she had already picked up on their names from overhearing parts of their conversation.

[Guest]

There was ease in Nikolaus's face, giving aside glances or two of observation of the interesting creature that was Blanca. She was well assessed and already discovered, yet here was, playing the masquerade and game to which he enjoyed. The game that is deceit and making out of it the truth. He enjoyed it so very much, especially the thin veil that no longer resides there. The veil he pierced with his eyes, the perception of a hawk, as the general's sole motive at this point was to merely break the ice. Perhaps metaphorically? Perhaps physically? In either instances, it involves the breaking of it. And sadly, there isn't any ice here but the metaphorical and figurative ones. Henceforth a longing for his metaphorical fist to break it dawned upon him.

"Well, General Stuka, it is less the thing of being at the liberty as much as it is of finding it within the spectrum of your abilities to steal the night away. Frankly, and I suppose you would know yourself, the office is not a place someone like me is too adequately fit. In all actuality, I wouldn’t read you as the kind of man either who dwells in the office and dreams of going home to have dinner after a long and harsh night of paperwork. Much rather, if you permit me the liberty of speaking my mind, I read you as a man who very well enjoys the life on the bright side of life which, coming from me, means that your home seems to be more on the battlefield. Instead however, you have adapted to the position of a Security hound. It is hardly different form the battlefield, just less in the open and with easier cover. Naturally for a marksman that appears to be quite the advantage. However, I even doubt that you find the satisfaction you seek in the mere hunt for criminal suspects or the detecting of threads to the general public."

He smiles at the cheeky explanation of him having to do paperwork, only to remember, there was one person that taught Nikolaus about the fundamentals of having a high rank. And that was Spade. Despite his abhorrent half-Xingese blood, Nikolaus overlooked that aspect and learnt more about the great thing about outsourcing work to a subordinate whilst retaining more important functions of a commander. A commander is after all supposed to be free, and the problem was... he was just so damned free, he has too little to do nowadays.

"Oh? You speak as if ranking and position matters little, Hochmann. Something tells me you aren't a normal Warrant Officer, but then again, there is no such thing as a Warrant Officer with a high position such as Head of Power. And as my detective instincts tell me, either you are special for having connections, or an absolute monster in the battlefield of your own doing." He smirks, "I chose this role for it was required by someone anyways, if I have to be a ceremonial officer, then so be it. I will kick ass and take names wherever names are, and wherever asses need kicking. Besides, I have nothing much to do, my secretary does most of my work, so I get to enjoy a few walks here and there, and kill some roaches sometime. Except... I am not here to kill in this particular moment."

He waves at Blanca, "No worries, this is just an informal visit for some beverages and what have you. Not a chance to shank someone dead, unless you see any threats to national security I have to handle? It'll be extra delicious."

He looks back at Heinrich with an idea who he might be, "I have some Cretan tapestries I have for sale on me right now, does it flash with great eagle prestige?"

Whilst awaiting for a response from Heinrich, he hears Blanca tell about herself.

"Blanca Perez, barmaid at your service. And what names do you gentlemen go by?"

"Ah, Blanca Perez, rolls off the tongue quite nicely. I like that name... Blanca Perez, sounds Esparian to me." He looks at Heinrich, "Doesn't it sound Esparian to you too?" He then looks back at Blanca, "The name is Nikolaus Stuka at your service, a pleasure to meet you and..." He leans in closer to Perez, "Rest assured, your nature is safely a secret with me." He leaned back after making such a point, and finally takes a quick drink of the whiskey, setting it back half-full as his mind feels leased by the niceness of the booze.

[Shula Brighton]

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