The Back Water tavern reeked of stale ale and desperation, a fitting backdrop for the arrival of Bastien. The door creaked open, and for a moment, the dim light from the hearth seemed to falter, as if even the flames feared his presence. Bastien strode in, his steps deliberate, slow, the kind of pace that made people uncomfortable, unsure whether they should stand up straight or make themselves invisible.
His eyes, cold and devoid of empathy, swept over the room like a predator surveying its prey. Bastien wasn't looking for anything in particular—he was simply letting them know he was there. And they noticed. The chatter died down, replaced by the uneasy shuffling of feet and the hesitant clink of mugs being set down. Every patron knew better than to hold his gaze for too long.
Behind him, his so-called friends followed like a pack of wolves trailing their alpha. They were a motley crew of cowards and sycophants, all too eager to laugh at his cruel jokes, too afraid to ever cross him. Bastien had a way of making them feel powerful in his shadow, but they all knew—whether consciously or not—that they were as expendable as the dirt beneath his boots.
He reached the bar, Bastien didn’t speak at first, just stared, enjoying the way the air hung between them and made things uncomfortable for a second. Finally, he leaned forward, his voice a smooth whisper that somehow cut through the air like a knife.
A round for my friends, he said, the word "friends" dripping with condescension. And make sure it’s the good stuff, not that swill you serve the rest of these pigs.
Maika looked at the group that entered the tavern, a frown appearing for a flash moment on her eyebrows. Her trained instincts kicked in as she looked at the man and how the environment had changed in his presence. She had to count to three mentally to not tell him that pigs drink was someone suited for someone of his kind; instead she just nodded as she pulled out one of the most expensive drinks (which actually rarely was sold due to it's price).
She showed him the whiskey bottle "Something like this would suffice? This is the best that I got, as you can guess a remote tavern doesn't have the variety that other taverns might have" she said in a neutral voice. She didn't even bother to offer it to his companions, she could tell that they were mere puppets.
Bastien's lips curled into a smirk as he watched Maika, taking in her restrained demeanor. He could see the flash of defiance in her eyes before she concealed it, and that amused him. It always did. He thrived on the tension, the subtle dance of power that others played so poorly in his presence. He didn't need to raise his voice or resort to theatrics; his mere presence was enough to unsettle most people.
He glanced at the whiskey bottle she presented, then back at Maika, his gaze lingering just a moment longer than necessary. Ah, yes, that will do nicely, he drawled, his tone dripping with faux politeness. He reached out, his fingers brushing hers briefly as he took the bottle from her hand, the contact cold and deliberate.
I’ll take the first glass, Bastien continued, pouring himself a generous amount. He didn’t look away from Maika as he took a slow sip, savoring both the taste of the whiskey and the discomfort in the air. It wasn’t the best he’d ever had, but that wasn’t the point. He wanted her to know that her efforts, while adequate, were inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.
Turning slightly, he offered the bottle to the closest of his so-called friends without looking at them. Share it around, boys. And do try to enjoy it—it’s not every day you get to drink something halfway decent, he said, his voice tinged with mockery.
As his followers eagerly took the bottle, he leaned back against the bar, still watching Maika with that same predatory gaze. Tell me, my dear, he began, his voice low and dangerous, do you enjoy working here? In this... charming little hole? Or do you dream of something more? He tilted his head slightly, as if genuinely curious, but his eyes betrayed the cruelty behind his words. Bastien wasn’t interested in her answer—he was interested in how she would respond to the trap he’d just set.
Maika looked unfazed at the man, knowing that with jerks of this brand the biggest middle finger was absolute and total indifference. She didn’t wince or flinch at his touch, acting as if his little display had mattered nothing.
Maika just placed enough glasses on the counter just in case any of the men in the group felt inclined to use them to drink, even if she suspected that they didn’t have the manners to do anything but to drink directly from the bottle.
Besides that, gave her an excuse to not pay many attentions, at the least apparently to them. She was still pulling out clean glasses as she heard the man speaking to her; apparently it wasn’t enough for her to serve him but the fucker wanted conversation.
Well, she had to reply but she didn’t have to be cheerful of seem interested in what the man had to say.
“It has it’s perks, I doubt that I will have a boss as good as the one I have now elsewhere” she said with a shrug that said without further words that she was not interested in anything that the man had to offer. That was also a statement that said that she wasn’t alone, just in case he wanted to try something funky.
Bastien’s eyes narrowed slightly at Maika’s response, the subtle defiance in her words piquing his interest. Most people would have been tripping over themselves to please him, especially when they saw how quickly he could turn a pleasant exchange into something much darker. But Maika... she was different. Unyielding. And that made the game all the more enjoyable.
He leaned forward, placing his hands on the bar and fixing her with an intense, predatory stare. Loyalty, is it? he mused, his voice a low purr that carried just enough menace to unsettle. How quaint. You must know, loyalty can be such a fleeting thing—easily bought, easily broken. But I suppose your kind have to cling to something, don't you?
He watched her carefully, gauging her reaction, though he suspected she would maintain that same cool indifference. That was fine. He could work with indifference. In fact, he preferred it—it gave him more to push against, more to break down.
Bastien took another slow sip of the whiskey, savoring the burn as it went down. Tell me, Maika, he continued, using her name deliberately, as if trying to remind her that he had the power to make things very personal, what do you think your loyalty will get you in the end? A pat on the head? A meager wage? Or perhaps something a little more... lasting?
He straightened up, his expression shifting from one of casual disdain to something colder, more calculating. You see, people like you are always so eager to play the loyal servant, believing it will protect you from the wolves at the door. But I’ve found that loyalty is often just another word for fear. And fear... He paused, letting the word hang in the air like a noose. Fear is something I understand very well.
Bastien’s gaze didn’t waver as he studied her, waiting for any sign of weakness, any crack in that carefully constructed facade. He thrived on it, on the little moments where he could twist the knife and watch someone squirm. But Maika wasn’t giving him what he wanted—not yet, anyway. And that made her more interesting than most.
“I have more interesting hobbies than reuniting a bunch of people to get them to follow me like sheep.” She said with a dismissive tone. If this fucker thought that she was going to get intimidated by those tricks he was in for a big surprise. She wasn’t going to be unpleasant or rude but she didn’t get paid to play along with morons.
“My loyalty relies on friendship which is indeed more lasting than a paycheck which is the reason why I work nowdays” long gone were her crow days where she did stuff for a bigger reason. Now her only motivation was to help Cooper and his family and of course her priority, Arissa.
Maika rose an eyebrow “Ajá.” She said in Antivan but could be very easily translated into the Marcher word (sure).“Fascinating, do you need anything else?” she said trying very hard to not roll her eyes.
Bastien’s expression twisted into something between amusement and irritation, his smirk twitching as if her indifference had landed somewhere between a mild inconvenience and a direct insult. Few dared to brush him off, especially with such a calm disregard. And Maika's self-assured defiance… well, it was refreshing. But also infuriating.
Friendship, he repeated, the word sliding off his tongue with barely concealed contempt. An idealistic notion, one that rarely stands in the way of a well-timed blade or a bag of coin. People say they act out of loyalty, but in the end, it’s only power that keeps them truly loyal.
He leaned forward again, watching for a reaction as his fingers drummed lazily on the bar, each tap ringing softly against the worn wood. I don’t believe you. Not one bit, he continued, his gaze narrowing. You may not care for the games I play, but I’d wager that you care for something... and when a person cares, they can be made to bend. Eventually. His smile sharpened, his eyes narrowing with dangerous interest.
He straightened, pushing back from the bar with the casual arrogance of someone who knew he was feared and enjoyed every moment of it. But don’t worry, Maika, he said, her name dripping with false familiarity. It would be far too boring to push you now. No, I think I’ll wait. Time has a way of unraveling loyalty better than anything else… and when it does, I’ll still be here.
“To each one their own, I am not here to convince you, just to serve drinks” she said with a shrug. She knew that guys like this got off on reactions and she wasn’t going to give him anything, not even a crumble of attention.
“You must be very bored to chit chat with a random waitress in the middle of nowhere, if you want a suggestion get a hobby it might be more satisfying” she said, her voice freezing. This fucking asshole and his nerve, she was another veiled threat away from throwing his ass out of the tavern, what refrained her was the fact that she was alone against his goons.
“Perhaps next time my boss will be the one serving you the drinks, he is less talkative but perhaps that will give you more room for your solo speech, since you seem to like the sound of your own voice a lot” she said being now downright rude. The fucking audacity, she was done with playing nice.
Bastien froze for a moment, the smirk fading from his lips as Maika’s words hit him like a splash of cold water. Then, slowly, his expression shifted into something darker, more dangerous, though the smile that returned didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Well, well, aren’t you full of fire? he said, his tone deceptively calm but laced with venom. He tilted his head, studying her like a predator deciding whether its prey was worth the effort. It’s almost charming. Almost.
He straightened, brushing an imaginary speck of dust off his coat, as if dismissing her entirely. You’re right, though. I *do* like the sound of my own voice. But even more than that, I like it when people know their place. It’s just so much easier that way, don’t you think?
Mercenary, Loyal to Nairn, Assassin, Stalker, Jack of all Trades
Played by: Bach
Supporting
The tavern door swung open abruptly, slamming against the wall with a resounding thud. Danny strode in like he owned the place, his thick boots echoing on the wooden floor as he surveyed the scene with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Blimey, it’s colder than a Frostback's arse out there, he announced, his voice loud and sharp enough to cut through the tension like a well-honed blade. He stomped his feet theatrically, shaking off imaginary snow, though his piercing gaze was already locked on Bastien.
Danny clocked the atmosphere immediately—the way the room was brimming with Bastien’s smug bravado and Maika’s restrained fury. His grin widened, all teeth now, as he sauntered over to the bar, completely ignoring the pack of lackeys hanging off Bastien like fleas on a mangy dog.
Ah, Bastien, mate. I didn’t know you’d stooped to terrorizing bartenders for a bit of fun these days. Running out of people to torture, are we? Danny’s tone was casual, almost friendly, but the razor-sharp edge beneath it was impossible to miss.
He slapped a hand down on the bar, nodding at Maika. Pour us a round, love. Something cheap for me. Wouldn’t want to waste the good stuff on this lot. He threw a pointed glance at Bastien’s entourage before leaning in closer to Maika. You alright? Didn’t think I’d walk into *this* circus when I came looking for Cooper.
Without waiting for an answer, Danny turned his full attention to Bastien, stepping in just close enough to make his presence unmistakable. Now, I don’t know what this little pissing contest is about, but it seems to me you’re wasting your time, mate. Maika’s got better things to do than stroke your fragile ego. So why don’t you and your merry band of clowns drink up and bugger off, eh?
Danny leaned on the bar, his stance deceptively relaxed, though every fiber of his being screamed readiness. His grin was still firmly in place, but his eyes... his eyes dared Bastien to test him.
Bastien’s smirk twisted into something colder, sharper, as he turned his full attention to Danny. His entourage shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsettled by the newcomer’s brazen confidence, but Bastien didn’t move. He simply stood there, his expression like a blade about to strike, as he took in Danny’s challenge.
Well, aren’t you a bold one? Bastien purred, his voice soft but dripping with venom. He took a slow step forward, closing the distance between them, his cold eyes flicking up and down as if sizing Danny up. Let me guess—you’re one of those self-appointed knights in shining armor, riding in to save the day? How very... predictable.
He tilted his head, his smirk widening. But you’ve got the wrong impression, mate. This isn’t a contest. It’s just me, enjoying a bit of... conversation. He gestured toward Maika with a dismissive wave, as though she were an afterthought. Though I must admit, I do appreciate your gall. It’s not often someone dares to bark back at me. Quite refreshing, really.
Bastien’s voice lowered, carrying a menace that felt like a knife pressed to the throat. But you might want to consider whether that bark is worth the bite it might earn you, eh?
Danny didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. Instead, his grin widened, his posture as easy as ever, as though Bastien’s threats were nothing more than an evening’s entertainment.
The lack of reaction gnawed at Bastien, and for the first time, a flicker of doubt crossed his features. The room was still, all eyes on the two of them, the tension palpable. Finally, Bastien chuckled, though there was no humor in it.
Very well. Far be it from me to spoil a reunion between old friends. He turned to Maika, his smirk back in place, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. Another time, my dear. We’ll finish our... conversation when the company is less intrusive.
With a sharp motion, he gestured to his followers, who scrambled to their feet, eager to leave before the situation escalated further. Bastien stepped back, his gaze lingering on Danny for a moment longer. Enjoy your drink, hero. I’ll be seeing you around.
He turned on his heel, striding toward the door with his entourage trailing behind like beaten dogs. The tavern seemed to exhale collectively as the door slammed shut behind them, the oppressive air Bastien carried with him lifting as quickly as it had arrived.
