Per my OP template, thread is death enabled
Arla had debated on where to meet with Altair following the destruction of the monkey world. She had looked at several different bars, restaurants, and cafes but ultimately said screw it. She was far more comfortable in her own home and it would offer them privacy.
While she had approved the contract and sent Aden - one of her top contractors and probably her most skilled space combatant - but she hadn't actually met Altair. Not yet.
She had seriously considered working to track him down before. At one point to try to kill him, at one point to try to recruit him, and at another to bury the hatchet. She never had. There'd always been a reason not to, it seemed.
But times changed. Arla had heard the rumors about Vahliri being severely injured in one of her recent battles, and for a time had even thought her old friend was dead. It was... strange. There were so few of them left anymore from the "old days." Maybe it was time to finally... let the past go.
When Altair arrived, Arla flicked her hand to open the door for him, allowing him to enter. He would see her milling about in the kitchen.
You want a drink? she asked, motioning for him to sit on one of the couches. Despite her external, calm demeanor she was... not sure what she was feeling. Angry? Nostalgic? In grief? A little bit of them all. Seeing him again was... shocking.
While she had approved the contract and sent Aden - one of her top contractors and probably her most skilled space combatant - but she hadn't actually met Altair. Not yet.
She had seriously considered working to track him down before. At one point to try to kill him, at one point to try to recruit him, and at another to bury the hatchet. She never had. There'd always been a reason not to, it seemed.
But times changed. Arla had heard the rumors about Vahliri being severely injured in one of her recent battles, and for a time had even thought her old friend was dead. It was... strange. There were so few of them left anymore from the "old days." Maybe it was time to finally... let the past go.
When Altair arrived, Arla flicked her hand to open the door for him, allowing him to enter. He would see her milling about in the kitchen.
You want a drink? she asked, motioning for him to sit on one of the couches. Despite her external, calm demeanor she was... not sure what she was feeling. Angry? Nostalgic? In grief? A little bit of them all. Seeing him again was... shocking.