#xixflyxhighx

[icantlose]

"There, ah.....Somethin' yeh need, laddie?"

[blackarwing]

"Fara...??" Not exactly the person he expected to run into in Sargasso -- exactly /not/ the person he'd expect to run into here, for that matter.

It's a voice that she recognizes, but not one she expects to jump out of her in this choppy ocean of criminals. Fara turns sharply, her breath catching in her throat as emerald gaze meets his figure for the first time in years; her heart pounding in her chest as the familiar face of Fox McCloud focuses into view. For a moment, she can only stare at him in stunned silence as the weight of the sheer impossibility of his return practically rocks the ground beneath her feet, completely shifting her off-kilter.

"Fox..?" Her voice marked by a mixture of shock and confusion; she blinks her eyes to snap herself out of her surprise. Her need for secrecy already way ahead of her mouth, coming up for excuses to explain why she's here while her mind builds walls around the truth. Determined to take control of the conversation and steer it away from any questions he might have for her, she takes a step closer to Fox, both of her feminine hands reaching out to hold on to one of his arms in an act of gentle empathy.

"Fox, you look horrible! Where have you been -- what happened to you!"

[purrfectoutlaw]

"Hey, long-time-no-see!"

"I could say the same to you, tiger! Where've ya been? Space was mighty lonely without you!"

[icantlose]

Is it a good idea to surprise Wolf like this? No. He could lose a limb. But is Fox a stick to good-ideas-only guy? No. He craves chaos. Leaning forward on the bar, trying to get out of Wolf's blind spot and into line of sight-- "Hey, is my tab still open here?"

The air in Sargasso's lounge is thick with the scent of smoke mixing into the recycled air of the space station; though it remains alive and electric with the hum of conversation and drunken festivity. Neon lights flicker to life intermittently, casting a colorful glow over Sargasso's usual culprits, the typical mix of criminal mercenaries, smugglers and outlaws who have found their refuge within this lawless outpost of Wolf's. The walls, adorned with memorabilia from various missions and battles, have certainly born witness to countless deals and betrayals that have taken place within these alcohol-stained confines. And if they could talk, perhaps they would warn the leader of Star Wolf of just who is sneaking up on him.

Sitting where he normally does, the sturdy, well-worn bar stool seems almost an extension of Wolf. Dangerous claws remain wrapped around the tumbler of whiskey that he has been nursing quietly as he remains hunched over the bar's overly-waxed counter; the amber color catching the neon lights as he swirls the liquid absentmindedly. Keen ears flick towards the movement behind him, though Wolf is quick to dismiss the sound as another patron moving through the lounge, unwilling to consider the possibility that someone would dare be stupid enough to approach Wolf from his blind side. Too many examples have been made of those who have attempted in the past.

...Yet, originating from Wolf's vulnerable side, a familiar voice suddenly cuts through all of Sargasso's buzz as Fox McCloud leans over the bar counter and into Wolf's limited peripheral vision.

Wolf's muscles suddenly tense in pure surprise, ears stand erect while both of his shoulders jerk tightly up against his neck. His grip on his glass tightening, his claws causing the whiskey tumbler to wince and creak under the sudden pressure. Then, with a heartbeat, Wolf pivots slightly on his stool, bringing Fox fully into view.

There he is, that smug son-of-a-bitch. Leaning casually against the bar. Those emerald eyes gleaming with a look of mischief with that stupid, knowing smile playing at the corners of his ugly mug.

Seeing Fox brings a surge of conflicting emotions that crash over Wolf like a tidal wave--anger, surprise, relief, and a begrudging sense of excitement. For at least four long years, Wolf had assumed Fox was either dead, kidnapped, or had abandoned the mercenary lifestyle altogether. And now here he is, nonchalantly intruding upon Wolf's territory... Just like he always has.

With his heart still pounding and Wolf still reeling from the sudden surprise, his good eye narrows as he slides off his seat and stands to meet his guest. "Ya scared the absolute shit out of me." His voice a low growl of irritation--though whether he's referring to how Fox has sneaked up on him, or because Fox has been gone so long remains to be known.

With a sudden and unexpected movement of Wolf's own, he extends one of his arms out, clapping Fox on the shoulder with the force of a punch. With his arm around the vulpine, Wolf playfully yanks him close in a display of lighthearted camaraderie.

"'Course your tab's still open, Fox! Though, I'm imposing one hell of a tax on it!"

[icantlose]

hey remember that bitch u knew that disappeared for a few years? this is him now feel old yet

IS IT

COULD IT BE

IS THIS KING?