Assassin Society

"Dunno, you think it'd be bad for your health if I punished you for harming innocent bystanders? I could probably put an explosive round in your spine from here."

Silas was more than willing to bullshit about who he'd fight and how that fight would go, or talk rough numbers and the like where combatants were concerned, but he wasn't the type to joke about civilian lives, even with his more monetary focused work ethic. He'd spent too long as a defender of the peace to ignore shots taken at innocents, and had been known to react violently to stray shots injuring people in the crowd, if you can call firing high explosive rounds into people's genitals a violent reaction.

He turned to regard the assassin, trying to decide if they were serious or not, his expression mostly unreadable behind that helmet's faceplate. Something about his demeanor had changed, as if tension had eased into his spine almost unnoticed, and he was coiled like a spring, ready to explode into motion at a moment's notice. A quiet menace exuded from him as he geared up mentally for the coming fight, which wasn't long off at all now. He expected the early arrivals to appear any minute now.

"Make sure you survive this encounter, eh? I'd hate to get stiffed out of my fight later on just because you didn't keep your head down."

Bo looked between the two, also tensing up, brown bag in her hand which presumably had the cash wadded up in it. "Here," she said, holding it out, looking between the two. But Norrington hadn't even twitched, just stood staring in silence. Then finally he pushed the sniper over onto the roof. "I'm out," he said, "They're a no show and this is a waste of my time. Bo, stay here for an hour just to make sure they don't show up late." He was heading for the rooftop entrance.

A look of defeat crossed Bo's shoulders as she slumped slightly and muttered, "Whatever." It was hard to tell just what had happened in Norrington's brain, but it was something.

Silas shrugged and took the money, some of the tension leaving him as he did so. He hadn't actually had a paying job as of yet, so he'd yet to have any real experience with the local currency. He made a few cursory glances over whatever it was they were using for money out here, attempting to ascertain without actually counting if most of what he'd asked for was there. Once he was satisfied, either because it looked to all be there or because the method of currency was unintelligible to him, He'd set about ordering the cash into manageable rolls, rubber banding them, and slipping them into spare belt pouches. He mentally added a bank to the list of things he needed to find and add to his work arsenal. Also some way to figure out what the exchange rate between whatever this was and the Credits he was more used to, as well as a rough estimate of conversion to his native currency of Riye, though he was fully aware that he'd get hosed if he expected a proper turnover for the traditional Mandalorian barter system.