<strong>Name:</strong>Nick Voss (Satyr)<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Ayr, Zed, Jugo, Marc<br/><br/>The Satyr simply nodded when the new 'boss' addressed his concerns in turn. Sounded like the job was fairly straight forward, and they were being well compensated for their collective silence on who<em>really</em>hit the club. Feeling rather impressed, he listened politely and silently through the rest. Nodding again when it was mentioned that there was an exceptional target in the joint. Seemed fair, and he knew better than to ask questions.<br/><br/>As Ayr set about offering up weapons, Nick waved him off as politely as he could, eyes following Zed as she rose and followed Marc from the room.<br/><strong>"Appreciate it, but guns ain't my thing."</strong>Nick glanced up at his horns, and shrugged.<strong>"Nice toys though. Always like having the biggest artillery on <em>my</em> side."</strong>he laughed quietly, and moved to follow Marc as well.<br/><br/>As he heard an unfamiliar voice reply to his new employer's, Nick stopped. He leaned his head out the door, but retreated after a moment, leaning back against the wall inside the VIP room, preferring to stay hidden for the moment. He could smell him from here, and only the most fucked up looking demons gave him the creeps like a vamp could. But as he listened, he had to respect the deadhead. The bloodsucker sure knew the business, and he<em>was</em>being plenty more generous than Nick expected anyone in his position would be. It meant of course, that he had an interest in seeing this fledgling outfit succeed, but he was being pretty clear about that. Even if the vampire gave him the creeps, Nick always liked a proper professional, especially one with that kinda cash on hand. He'd have to keep the corpse in mind for future employment. For now, he stayed in the VIP room, not ready to declare his loyalty (even unintentionally) by standing behind this demon.