Salem sighed and looked back at Rathien, "Not everybody realizes what I can offer. Illim there just needs a little demonstration, is all." He rolled his eyes as he looked after the Yeerk. "Or a different crowd to follow," he muttered to himself.
"I don't believe in fate, hunter, and as for your concept of 'The Kill,' well..." he smirked, "you can keep that to yourself, for all I care. To each his own, right?"
He leaned up against the bar near Rathien, looking out at the tables. Al wasn't making himself known... good. He lowered his voice, "So why did you come in here? You of all people know that I wear explosives, so you can't kill me here. Your reaction times put me to shame, so I can't kill you. You've backed us into a stalemate here, Ildari. I've gotta figure you came in here because you want something... not sure if that means you want it from me. Still, I can't think of any other reason you'd follow me out here, and then just reveal yourself like this. There've gotta be others you're tracking lately, right? Or is business really that slow?"
He walked around Rathien and stood next to Ossanlin, trying to make sure to always keep an eye on the bounty hunter. Claxter was there, speaking with the War-Prince... and judging by the gaze and stance of the female and Ossanlin, he assumed they were thought-speaking privately. He'd gotten fairly good at picking up on that kind of thing during his years among the Andalites. Salem wondered if the War-Prince was ever not busy at this bar.
"War-Prince," he said to Ossanlin, performing the slight bow he used in lieu of lowering a tail blade, to show respect to higher-ranking officers. "When you get a minute, I was wondering... could I have a few words with you?"
He then turned back to Rathien with a grin, "If you're trying to set me on edge, you're doing a fantastic job. The problem, Rathien, is that I like it that way."
Al waited until Jasper'd taken his seat, then half walked, half danced his way to the other side of the table and took his own seat. He leaned back in his chair and set his legs on the table, his almost impossibly-polished black shoes shining in the light.
He smiled at Van, "Oh, yes they have some colors in them. And not just some of the colors. All of the colors. It's light, woven into a fabric. It's comfortable and soft and fabulous, and depending on the weave, it can make you the center of attention in every room. Not that you'd need help with that, Mr. Half-Beryllian," he said with a wink.
He turned to Jasper, "Water bottle? Let me see..." he closed his eyes for a moment. "Ah. Yep, it's on the ship. Rolled under one of the shelves." He opened his eyes and smiled, "Sorry, I didn't even see it before. Say the word and I'll grab it for you. And Texan..." he laughed, "wow, I was way off, wasn't I? So, your Texas... where is it? I may have been there, actually."
When Van described a Dalcasian, Al raised an eyebrow, "Oh, that sounds good. One of those for me, too," he said to the bartender. He looked at Ewa, "My friend's got the credit. I..." Rathien was still there, "should probably not point him out right now. He won't mind, I promise."
When Ewa asked if he was human, he laughed, "Not at all, I just look that way." Rathien... the hunter was cramping his style. Usually he'd just take this moment to drop his hologram and show her. Instead, he smiled, "Can't always believe your eyes, you know."
