Kamda

"Very strange," Tybalt said, shrugging. Stepping back up to his bike he started prepping it for the quick little jaunt back to the tower. "Well, I do hope you find.. whatever it is you're looking for," he said, getting his speeder booted up and roaring with a grin.

"From hospitals?" he laughed, pushed his hands up in a dramatic shrug. "Suppose it could be kinda a thrill, not really mine. Need a little more.. oomph."

"O-Oh oh," he snapped a finger and pointed to Claymore. "That sounds like one of those crime flicks, or maybe a spy flick.." he furrowed a single brow. Then laughed a bit, "I'm not sure why you would think that, friend. Do I look like someone who needs to steal.." he opened his arms to show himself ...

"Casing the hospital?" he asked, furrowing his brow. "What's that even mean?"

"Something like that, friend of my fathers friend or something or some such. Poor bastard got beat real bad by some rather uh.." he made a jabbing motion, "kinda individuals, you know. Hyped? Well, not that I think the scumbag didn't deserve it. Not sure many would agree with me on that though."

Tybalt swings it around on his finger, and hands it off to Clay as it comes to a stop with the handle facing him. "Sure, probably won't, but sure."

"I'll break whatever I like, thank you," he said, working at the blaster. What Clay would find with the bike is that it was a very standard affair for a luxury craft of it's type. Straight off the lot, more or less. Might have even been purchased today as far as the maintenance on it is concerned.

"Excellent," he says, taking it into his hand with an amused grin. "Feel free," he stepped away from his bike as he examined the blaster, turned it over, tried taking it apart.

"Can I see yours?" he asked, the grin growing and holding out a hand. "You let me see your gun, I'll let you see my bike, fair?"

Pokosta thought for a moment, "Do you have a gun?" he asked with a grin.

"Tybalt Pokosta," he returned. Shifting off of his bike and looking back at Claymore. Examining the man, how he carried himself. "You don't look the average mechanic?"

"Well enough?" he asked, raising a brow as he watched the man circling his property. It was sleek, it was new, and it was clearly the type of speeder-bike that only money, obscene amounts of money, could afford. "You like my bike?" he asked.

"I.." he shook his head, "Fine, fine. Let's go see my father," he put up his hands. Pointing at Roxi, putting a finger right against her clavicle, "You have to learn a lot about negotiation. Maybe when we go speak with my father he'll be so happy to see me he might give you a lesson." Pokosta walked...

"Wouldn't you prefer to speak of this over a drink?" he asked, indicating the booth.

"His father is a slime-ball not worth my time and so was he," he said, looking to Roxi as if this information was clearly obvious. With the shiner on his cheek pointed at her the evidence, to him, appeared clear.

"I merely reminded him of this, because he needed reminding," he said.

"You," he points at Varina, "I like you, so casual with the way you lie. Smart," he smiled, tapping his head by the temple. Looking to Roxi and Solork. "Is it urgent or do we have time for a drink or two first?" he asked, indicating the empty booth.

"Give me a moment," Tybalt said, walking to one of the guards. Talking for a moment only to be brought to Mallory and onward. (Small time-skip) While the not-so-nice guy has been ousted from the club, Mallory has seen to her men getting the unconscious and beaten man off to the hospital, and the res...

"I'm not quite sure what I did to earn friends like you," he said, looking at the joined mercenaries. Placing a hand on Solorks shoulder, "But I must say I love it," he smiled.