The sun peered over the horizon, painting Lion’s Arch in red and gold hues as Tora made his way to a small cafe hidden away in the city’s many winding streets. He passed by the city’s infamous lion statue on his way, wincing as the oncoming dawn weaponized it against him with blinding flashes of light. It was way too early for his tastes, but he’d let that odd FPS guy choose the time while he chose the place. They’d meet-up, exchange what they found the night prior, then make a plan of attack.
He wasn’t sure how he was going to pay FPS for his help, a kiss maybe? The guy did seem pretty enamoured with him. That felt too optimistic though, and honestly a bit wrong. Just give him a cut of your pay, he thought reluctantly. His wallet would hurt for sure and rent was coming up, but that was the simplest answer. If he’d been smart about it, he’d have asked for more pay upfront: this job was already proving to be more work than it was worth.
Tora caught his reflection in a nearby window: no dress or wig today—just his regular clothes and oversized coat. Would FPS even recognize him? Should he have dressed up a bit? He frowned at his reflection, thinking it over again but deciding against it. He needed practical clothes today, and nothing too flashy. FPS would have to just deal.
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