#strix.exe

[cmdr-strix]

[Closed RP for @a-phoenix-must-burn]

Strix's quarters are, as expected of a man of his position, spacious. Spacious, but empty; there are no trinkets, no decorations, no hints of who Strix is. Just a military-made bed, a table with no hints he ever eats, a bookcase of so many tomes that it's impossible to get a handle on what he reads, just.. empty. A void where a person should be.

Well... usually, anyways. Strix ordered takeout in anticipation of his guest. It sits on the counter of his kitchenette. Almost taunting.

When his door opens, Strix straightens; his head tilts, the light glinting off of the glass of his mask. Even in his own quarters, he struggles to remove it.

"Hello, little bird," he says, striding over to help the man in, eyes taking in the injuries. What a shame; Strix despises seeing wounded birds. "I trust my men didn't give you too much trouble."

[cmdr-strix]

Eryx slipped into the office after a firm knock, placed a stack of filled out paperwork, a list of needed inventory, a mission request for a 2 month long op in good old mother Russia, and a request for 3 dozens of the soldiers, onto the table, before he took a stand at his usual spot where he waits for either an order or he's dismissed.

@lt-malum

Strix looks up from his work, watching as Eryx brings him more papers, more work, always more. At least it's filled out.

He looks it over. Two months. Russia--ah, he knows the client, then--and three dozen soldiers. Quite a few. More than they usually spare; Actium isn't large. They're elite. Five of their soldiers is twenty of any other outfit. So three dozen...

But he sees the mission. Sees the price tag. And he hums.

"Approved, Malum," he says as he puts the paperwork aside. "Try not to lose anyone to 'frostbite' this time."

[cmdr-strix]

You play poker, Strix?

A fair amount, yes. My men don't play with me, but I regularly do with clients. Why do you ask?

[cmdr-strix]

a short know was on the door, before eryx walked inside the office; placed a clipboard of docutments and a pile of hand written papers on top of it.

"the report from my last mission."

@lt-malum

Strix looks up from his desk, ball-point pen dangling from his fingers. Malum's reflection stares back from the goggles over his mask.

"Thank you," Strix says, almost bored, before taking the clipboard. He rifles through the pages for a moment before he sets it aside. "Good work."

[cmdr-strix]

So, if I were interested in applying for your company, how would I go about that? Y’know, without getting myself shot by any Shadows.

Smart lad.

You come to me. My office is... out of the way. Out of the line of fire. I'm sure a clever man like you can get past the patrols to find me.

[cmdr-strix]

.. you look ominous. I'm sure you've considered that.

It inspires fear in my enemies and awe in my men. And has the added bonus of anonymity.

[cmdr-strix]

You have my blessing: Shadows are shoot-on-sight.

[cmdr-strix]

Gonna be away for a few days; got a lead on something.

- @lt-malum

Of course. Whatever you need to do, Malum.

I expect the report on my desk when you return.