Freeport 14 wasn't a place you would normally find Hemlocke, even before the collapse Alberta, he'd usually spent his time on McMurray. The screeching death of hessian engines filled the hangar his wolfhound had landed in, not all that different from its pilot, it bore scars aplenty. It wasn't long before the long and wild-haired man dropped out the bottom of the imposing beast, a bit of shock to the knees wasn't anything new to him. Rising into a stand to check over his weaponry briefly he went on his way to find the bar. Tasked with finding a booth while the woman he was meeting with tended to other business. On arrival his singular eye traced over the bar, with the crimson cybernetic currently inactive he didn't gain many looks.

Approaching the far corner of the bar he took up a seat that allowed him to look over the rest of the room from seclusion, he decided to tinker with his cybernetic eye on the table before him while he awaited his counterpart's arrival, to see if he couldn't bring it back to life. His gaze constantly shifting upward as to not be caught off guard by anyone. He hadn't slept since it happened, yet that somehow didn't appear on his face which held grim neutrality, and an unblinking inquisitive stare.

Only a handful of minutes had passed since Hemlocke's tinkering began. Slow-paced 'clanks' of steel-soled military boots drummed against the Freeport 14 bar's flooring as the woman he expected was approaching. Ruby's attire was both casual and monotonously dark-coloured. Hydra's oversized hoodie hid most of her feminine appearance with the only exception of her face. The thick ebony fabric contrasted with the female's otherwise lengthy fiery hair and piercing Uranian-coloured eyes.

"Hey there, luscious locks." Ex-Guildmistress greeted the pre-occupied pilot she had stumbled upon just hours prior to the in-person meeting with an added nod upon taking her seat just opposite of him.

Despite the words the female pilot had said earlier behind the Barrier Gate station regarding 'harmlessness' and 'innocence', the stare and her alertness she displayed signaled distinctively otherwise. Hydra was a meticulous woman in person, unlike her more carefree, happy-go-lucky self in the pilot seat of the bright red Series Z "Sabre" fighter.

The man had looked up from his tinkering as the sound of metal with approaching footsteps filled his ears. Setting the two thin pieces of metal down on the removed face plate along with the cybernetic his singular right eye cast toward the approaching sound. His right hand slid off the the table and into his lap, laying over his right thigh while his left arm lay on the edge of the table, folded across infront of him, leaving the litany of scars stretching from hand over to forearm to just before the elbow bare for her eyes to see. Slashes, cuts, tears, impact marks likely belonging to bullets, and burns. Their attire wasn't all that different, what she could see on approach was a form-fitting black-T tucked into a blood splattered brown leather belt with sheathes on his left side for two curved blades, though one was missing, perhaps something to do with the dead cybernetic. Beneath the belt were black pants with the same color boots, seemingly a strapped style though the lack of full visual made it difficult to discern.

His unblinking eye stared, watching her every movement, every step, the posture, listening to the way she spoke. She was a fun lover like him, though well guarded. Which wasn't at all different from the others he'd come across, it added allure. Analytical and observant, though his head did tilt to the side slightly at her comment, very odd, and not something he'd heard before. The "luscious locks" fell over the left side of his face, hiding it from view then down over both shoulders. From up close the seemingly normal hazel eye was revealed to have an odd mutation in pigment, yellow spokes around the iris, like that of a wheel. Unlike back in space, he didn't seem to have much to say. However his voice took on a much different tone when removed from the faulty communication array of his Wolfhound, considerably less growl, a darker, smoother, almost icy voice emerged as his lips parted to reveal an oddity for a rogue, pristine teeth.

"You didn't keep me waiting very long."

Seated woman opposite him playfully shrugged with a hint of smugness on her lips, "I despise waiting as much as I detest making others wait." Ruby blinked, setting her gaze towards Hemlocke's scars, sub-consciously. Hydra's left arm moved from a crossed position on top of their table downwards to her stomach, almost grabbing onto it, ending the movement by resting it on top of her left upper thigh.

An almost sorrowful sigh faintly escaped Hydra as she concentrated on the Rogue as a whole again, evaluating the pilot promptly. Ex-Guildmistress' modest smugness converted into a half-smile whilst tilting her head right ever-so-slightly. "I see that we not only share a fondness for red but also black. Delightful." Ruby's voice much like other pilots' had changed. It had become deeper with an added raspiness on top of it. Not only that. The female's Bretonian accent became noticeably prevalent.

Her focus shifted away from the long-haired man in front of her and instead onto the waitress who was mid-process of servicing a table. 'clack', her fingers went upon snapping, the noise bouncing throughout the bar, signaling the waitress. It was clear as day to the scar-filled man that the woman ahead of him was not used to such a lowly setting.

His eye remained focused on Ruby, not moving to interrupt while she was talking, in fact he was rather attentive, listening to each word with careful consideration. She had no lack of confidence, loud and proud came to mind, though she was far more reserved than that. She wanted him here and visa versa, though she didn't seem to be analyzing him as much, she simply drew parallels and made idle comments. He certainly wasn't a relaxed person given his tense posture and seeming inability to blink. His eye casted over to the waitress briefly as the woman before him made a motion to get her attention, though his gaze returned to the fiery haired counterpart without much delay soon after the brief glance.

He decided to comment on the choice of attire they both seemed to have. His speech pattern seemed to be short statements, rather than sentences, almost like bullet points. His posture shifted shortly after, bringing his left ankle up onto his right knee, leaning forward briefly before his back straightened, bracing on his right hand before he returned to his focused gaze.

"Everything goes with it. Blood can't ruin it. Stains are less effort to hide. Easier to blend in."

The waitress reacted with a flicker of surprise upon noticing the Ex-Guildmistress's venture at attention-seeking before confirming it with a simple nod and a forced smile before slowly approaching the two pilots in an almost un-wanting fashion.

"Blood, huh?" Ruby paused for the briefest of moments, focus shifting towards Hemlocke, nearly staring through the man himself. "Wouldn't know all that much about it." Her hushed bluff was glaringly obvious, yet, it seemed like Hydra's facade was more of an attempt at fooling herself rather than her newly met acquaintance. The woman's right hand's fingers tapped on the surface of their booth's table at an oddly rhythmic pace, with tranquil humming accompanying it.

It was not clear what sort of thoughts ricocheted around in Ruby's busy mind. Doubly so due to the unwavering positivity displayed on her face without as much as a hint of Hydra forcing it. "Intriguing." Another near-silent comment escaped the redhead as her intense stare lessened into nothing more than a simple glare at the mechanical portion of the male ahead.

The unblinking stare remained focused upon the positively beaming face, so far he hadn't been able to discern if that was how she really was, or if she was so drowned under the layers of how own convincing lie she couldn't tell the difference between her self at this point. What the guild mistresses he had met seemed to all have in common was a regret of past action, something he found rather foolish, yet the parallels remained. In contrast to Ruby's "sister" however, she was lying to herself about it, instead of denying it and attempting to move forward from it. Intriguing. Perhaps she too had lost someone close, maybe by her own actions, trauma? A myriad of things could explain this emotional disposition and response to things, she seemed almost entirely distant, as if not in the room with her little hushed comments. Under a lens, though she hadn't seemed to notice, or maybe she just didn't care. This was turning into quite the puzzle, though one he liked to play.

The intense gaze that tore through him as if he wasn't even in the room was noticed, though as she re-focused on the left side of his face, currently hidden by his hair and missing its cybernetic, he gave a slow blink of register. Something about the missing eye had drawn her attention but he couldn't quite figure out the reasoning for it. His head tilted ever so slightly to the side in curiosity and intrigue, a visual indicator he'd been paying attention up until this point. His voice didn't emerge this time, again without much to say. He simply watched, observed and waited.

"Finest whiskey, two glasses." Ruby's tone changed upon issuing an immediate order to the soon-to-arrive waitress. Ex-Guildmistress true demeanor reared its disgusting self. Her voice was filled to the brim with nothing short of ice-cold disregard for the staff member who had not even the chance yet to let out as much as a single sound.

'Tsk.'. Their server gritted her teeth, producing a near-audible 'clack' like noise just after giving both of them what would almost seem like a 'I will punch you in the face' smile alongside a very hesitant nod. Turn. The woman paused for just a brief moment before continuing her move to acquire Hydra's desired alcoholic beverage

"I hope you enjoy a good whiskey drink, Rogue." The redhead's lips morphed into a snarky smile as her focus upon Hemlocke disappeared entirely.

"Ahh..." Ruby let out a brisk gasp containing both excitement and relief as her back slowly sunk into the rather well-made cushioned booth seat. Despite the woman's outlandish personality, physically, it was the opposite. Both her hands rested inside her dark hoodie's pockets. Face hidden away with the assistance of her seating position combined with an overhanging hood covering nearly everything neck up.

It would seem to him, as her gaze and focus on him faded away, that she'd either lost interest, was simply here for the drink, or she was attempting to throw off his analyzing gaze. Her guard was down, slouching into the booth, entirely relaxing, exaggerating her sounds of enjoyment. She was trying a little... or rather, "way" too hard to throw off suspicions of her true nature, and the more she performed to make the convincing lie, the more he watched. It was a mask, one he got to see under with her minor breaks of disposition into pure neutrality with a sinister undertone. It was intriguing to watch to be certain.

"Easily."

Whiskey, he could've guessed if he hadn't been so focused on the woman herself. A drink for a fiery personality, the go-to for testing tolerance. He wondered if that's what she was doing, some people tended to share a drink to get the measure of a person. That didn't make much sense to him, she was very actively caught up in an elaborate bluff that seemed more like a coping and distancing mechanism for her own psyche than it was to fool anyone else. His gaze finally broke off her, looking down to the cybernetic eye, two tiny tools and the faceplate it lay upon, almost reflecting as he drew parallels between other people he'd met and their dispositions in such situations, their actions and behaviors. His singular eye gaze a watchful glance over the bar while Ruby relaxed into her booth without a care in the world. His guard still up.

Silence. A staredown without the stare. Minute by minute, the time trickled forward as both, Ruby and her half-machine-faced companion sat across each other in absolute silence. Not a single muscle move from Hydra occurred until their waitress placed an exquisite-looking bottle of the finest whiskey dead centre of their humble booth table with disgruntlement. 'Ting'. A glass on each end of the table was placed with the force of somebody who would have been five shots in at the very least. Sturdy.

Sudden movement. The Ex-Guildmistress sprung back into life, un-slouching herself, resuming the straight-back slight forward lean form she had before the wait began. Ruby's look in her eyes betrayed the seemingly enthusiastic movement. Both eyes remained unphased. It was not boredom, far from it, and yet, Hemlocke could not be too sure of what really pre-occupied this woman's chaotic mind.

Their bottle was already within the tight clutches of Hydra before he could even focus on it properly. 'Pop'. The whiskey bottle's platinum-tipped cork slowly squeezed out of the bottle after which it was placed cork-side up gently upon the surface. She poured 3/4ths of the glass for her acquaintance, repeating the action for herself shortly afterward.

Unlike previous times, Ruby's blue eyes locked and focused only on Hemlocke's single natural eye. Her hand extended forward, holding the crystal whiskey glass by the top rim delicately.