crux_fleet | (no subject)

Who: Nathan Drake and Zoran Lazarevic
Where: Public block near Cirrane Apartments
When: July 9th, evening hours
Warnings: Violence

They've started to try and talk to Nate about mobile armors, and about the coliseum. More than once he's tried to explain that it just wasn't happening, that he had taken long enough to fly a standard spacecraft, let alone earn enough to purchase his own. Nobody was happy to hear it, of course. Betting on an underdog was everyone's favorite pasttime, though Nate had been fairly confident in his ability to lose when it came to giant fighting mobile armor.

No. He'll stick to his new age plane.

The helmet comes off once he steps out of the hanger and moves upward toward the surface, the jacket follows, and then its just a matter of fishing around for his glasses. He's too lazy for that today. The apartments are just a few blocks away, and nobody has yet to recognize him from a distance. Now all he had to do was get around to the bar, and find someone to code him something to erase his name out of that ship's databank.

Because once he was off this fleet, he had no plans to coming back.

Threaded | Flat

While time may have eased Drake and company into a dangerously unearned sense of security, their enemy is vigilant as ever, even while spinning his web of resources has begun to overshadow his interest in retribution. But it is still there, never far from front of mind when he runs a fortnightly check of registered spacecraft and firearms. Sooner or later, Drake will attempt to flee--Lazarevic has no doubt of that--and he will require a ship to do so.

He is however less confident he will be fool enough to obtain a vehicle under his fleet registered identity, but Lazarevic will not miss the opportunity to seize him should Drake experience a crisis in judgment.

This time, his attentiveness bears fruit. The Serbian has set his pieces on the board within the day.

He falls in behind the witless redhead a block from where he has peeled off the thoroughfare. And before Nathan Drake can even conceive of reacting to his new shadow, Lazarevic slams his fist into the back of his skull.