<strong>Name:</strong>Nick Voss (Satyr)<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Marc, Ayr, Zed, Rutilus, Jack<br/><br/>The idea of putting the boot to some beardies and former kinsmen sounded pretty entertaining to Nick, especially if it meant the Unleashed got into a bigger scrap because of it. Even more so, if it was, at least in part, because of his presence.<br/><br/><strong>"Sounds like fun. Just need to know how much we're gettin paid, when this is going down, and whether we're kicking in teeth, or doing a straight up hit of the joint."</strong>the level of force, and lethality, wasn't going to turn Nick away, he just needed to know. He tended towards the former, but the latter was fine too.<br/>Just meant he expected the pay to be better.<br/><br/><strong>"As for long term, well, that's gonna depend. I ain't gonna tie myself to the first gangster with enough green to bring me out to a headbusting exercise. I'd wanna know more about who you are, and what your game is, before I committed to anything more than a job at a time. Course, that can wait till later."</strong>he shrugged. He had no reason to dislike the mysterious employer, just a general distrust. It was a wise policy in his books, not to assume anyone had your best interests in mind. Or even some interest in your survival, let alone success. But he was impressed enough to consider the idea. Clearly, whoever he was speaking to, had balls. He was hitting a 'diggers bar, and taking on some of the most brutish shits around town... just to start a scrap between two of the big fish. Add onto that, that he busted Jack Mason out of the joint,<em>and</em>had done enough research to know who at least most of the people showing up to his shindig were, whether big players or small. He respected the intelligence, the balls, and the style (it<em>was</em>a nice suit). But that didn't mean he wasn't a shitbag who'd throw Nick and anyone else in the fire just to advance his own schemes. Just, a high quality shitbag.<br/>