Aftermath

[Hemlocke]

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Ashwood in comparison to Hemlocke was rather enthusiastic about the meeting, moving infront of the Hellhound who followed casually behind toward the meeting room, seems Fuze was nowhere in sight as of yet, perhaps late, perhaps dead. Montes could only hope for the latter. The two entered the conference room not long after Amelia called the rest to the meeting.

Strangely, Ashwood was the one that sat down, Hemlocke preferring to stand behind her, well aware of what it visualized, but he didn't care, preferring ability to move quickly over delusions of stature and rank, his crimson gaze slowly moving over the room to see those gathered in a different light. His gaze stopped on Valdez, as if sizing her up, before giving a subtle nod, more to himself, before his eyes cast over Amelia. Professional capacity wasn't Hemlocke's strong suit, if that wasn't obvious enough from his casual attire and stance, though he didn't much enjoy fashion shows. His left hand rested on the back of Ashwood's seat. Despite this, he does not gossip or whisper in private, simply waiting for his moment to speak.

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