#Darius Leir || Asset Protection

[mando-of-esverr]

“You know what? If I’d wanted an escort I’d have hired one. I don’t know which of my siblings thought this would be a great idea, but you’re just going to slow me down.”

The Devaronian was hardly older then his early twenties, maybe a bit older. Though, the armor and many, many pockets and pouches maybe added to the intimidation. Maybe. Or, maybe it just made him look more ridiculous. They knew what they thought, but, no one could know others minds, right?

“If you’re insistent on following me, do try to keep up, I don’t want to have to come back an-“ they break off, and cough. “Oh, you’re. Oh.”

“What are you, a Mando? A bounty hunter? A runaway clone?”

Too many questions, too quickly, as per usual.

The Mandalorian kept walking, the tarnished brass color of his armor glinting in the daylight. Darius hadn't been stealthy. Hadn't meant to. Honestly, he thought his client already knew he'd be protecting them. Then again, the ones who hired him hadn't done so for their own protection, which made sense why this guy wasn't so keen on his presence.

"A guy with a job," he answered, his voice only mildly staticky over his comms. "I'm with Hawkeye Asset Protection and according to my contract, you're the asset."

He kept walking, increasing his stride so as to not "fall behind."

"What about you? Armor like that might make people a little nervous." He gave a soft chuckle. As if being a Mando didn't already make people nervous. "Heh, oh don't stop on my account. I'm just barely getting my steps in."

[mando-of-esverr]

Darius almost raised an eyebrow behind his tinted visor but listened intently. If he needed protection for a family gathering, then there was definitely something more to this unusual job than met the eye.

"Rough family?" he asked, giving a cursory glance around. "Or just a rough road getting there?"

He kept in stride with the Devaronian, listening as he kept an eye out, and bringing his attention back only when the fellow offered his hand. "Jaing," he answered, giving his last name as he took and shook the offered hand. He then gave chuckle as he returned his attention to the area around them. "Don't worry, you'll know if I get annoyed. But as for your question, the answer is yes. People, ships, cargo, anything someone's willing to pay to protect."

The Mando paused and glanced over at his client. "So, any idea what exactly I'm protecting you from?"

“You know what? If I’d wanted an escort I’d have hired one. I don’t know which of my siblings thought this would be a great idea, but you’re just going to slow me down.”

The Devaronian was hardly older then his early twenties, maybe a bit older. Though, the armor and many, many pockets and pouches maybe added to the intimidation. Maybe. Or, maybe it just made him look more ridiculous. They knew what they thought, but, no one could know others minds, right?

“If you’re insistent on following me, do try to keep up, I don’t want to have to come back an-“ they break off, and cough. “Oh, you’re. Oh.”

“What are you, a Mando? A bounty hunter? A runaway clone?”

Too many questions, too quickly, as per usual.

The Mandalorian kept walking, the tarnished brass color of his armor glinting in the daylight. Darius hadn't been stealthy. Hadn't meant to. Honestly, he thought his client already knew he'd be protecting them. Then again, the ones who hired him hadn't done so for their own protection, which made sense why this guy wasn't so keen on his presence.

"A guy with a job," he answered, his voice only mildly staticky over his comms. "I'm with Hawkeye Asset Protection and according to my contract, you're the asset."

He kept walking, increasing his stride so as to not "fall behind."

"What about you? Armor like that might make people a little nervous." He gave a soft chuckle. As if being a Mando didn't already make people nervous. "Heh, oh don't stop on my account. I'm just barely getting my steps in."