Oaths Are for the Obedient

[Leo]

Dagger-2 had been sitting near the front of the establishment when he saw the man named Mr. Serrano enter the bar and slide into stall 18. He quietly sipped his coffee as he listened intently for him to place his order. Dagger-2 was wearing simple street clothes that reflected the environment Daisy's Burgers existed in. Baggy jeans and a ruffled plaid jacket which was more a long sleeve shirt with a hood than an actual jacket. His undershirt was black and plain. Though he looked like any other man who lived within the vicinity of the diner, he carried himself like a python curled for a strike. Not nervous or tense, just aware. Verifying that this was indeed his contact, Dagger-2 calmly rose with his mug containing the stale coffee and slid into the booth across without a word. "Mr. Serrano I presume. You may address me as Dagger-2. I'm the agent that was tasked to retrieve the intel you possess as well as any proof you have corroborating what you have reported already in the communication post you sent." He took another sip of his coffee, more a habit than enjoyment. The coffee tasted like it had been made hours ago when the diner first opened. It was vile, but caffeine was caffeine at the end of the day and dealing with another clueless civilian that possessed dead end intel already made him feel exhausted. Just the thought of having to run down whatever nonsense this man believed made him irritable. However, any reports of a compromised or infected individual always sent up red flags at command. What was more, this particular individual knew of the possibility of infection. Though those in the edgeworlds typically knew of this possibility due to the nature of the Nomads in that area of space, it was still fairly uncommon knowledge. Both of these reasons was why he was ordered to meet with him and ascertain what he knew in person and if necessary, silence him permanently. "First and foremost, give me a background on yourself. I need to know the individual furnishing this intel before I can truly dig into whatever it is that you think you have." Dagger-2 leaned back, looking at his contact over the lip of his mug.

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You fear oblivion. Yet you forget. The universe remembers every atom of your being. Even dust hums your name in the dark.
Roleplay is dead. Long live Powertraders and PvP I guess.