The clinking of glasses, the familiar stench of booze and cigarettes lingering through the air, and the constant struggle between the music and patron's voices trying to overcome one another within the lively establishment, are all too familiar to the lone freelancer as he remained tucked away in an isolated booth in the corner of the always bustling Heritage. The smoke from his newly lit cigarette clouded his vision as he stared down into the drink he had been slowly nursing, watching the perfectly formed cubes of ice melt away into the light goldish liquid with a stoic gaze. A small frown settled on his face before raising the glass to his lips to take an easy sip before leaning back into his seat with a hiss of pain, holding his stinging side and doing his best to ignore the throbbing bruises along his lower jaw. A huff of irritation escaped him along with a thick plume of smoke from his nose before glancing up at his surroundings. As always the place was lively as ever, with plenty of suits and other high rollers enjoying the many pleasures the Heritage had to offer, even a handful of hired muscle standing guard around the section of the bar for the VIP guest. Isaac felt a tinge of sympathy for the men, knowing all too well how much of a pain in the ass it is to be on babysitting duty, especially when said babies are loud obnoxious drunks that constantly remind you that they could buy you, your family and your future generations if they wanted to.

Isaac's attention to the atmosphere of the bar was soon interrupted as he noticed a figure approaching his booth from the corner of his eye. "Man, don't you look full of sunshine and sparkles," a familiar voice said with an amused chuckle. Isaac let out a small sigh before tapping away the ashes of his cigarette into a tray and looking at the owner of the voice with a deadpanned look only to be met by an amused grinning face of his recent business partner, Otto Turner. They've only been working together for half a year now, but Otto's intel gathering and connections have been pretty handy with landing decently paying jobs. His bright green eyes held the same mischievous twinkle they had since they met, the dirty blonde strands of his shaggy hair hanging loosely above his brow and just barely hiding the scar across the temple of his forehead. That stupid grin he always has seems to grow even larger every time they meet along with freckles dotting his cheeks upon his lightly tanned skin. Sporting his usual fur-lined jacket with a dull grey t-shirt and baggy cargo pants Isaac couldn't help but wonder if the man had any other kind of clothes in his wardrobe seeing as he never seems to change his look. He ignored the thought of his partner's fashion sense and took a sip from his drink. 

"You're late," Isaac stated before returning his cigarette to his lips. Otto held up his hands apologetically before taking a seat from across him with a sheepish chuckle. 

"I know, I know, but something came up with a past client and I couldn't ignore it," Isaac arched a brow and gave him a curious look, but was quickly waved off as Otto shook his head. "Don't worry I handled it. Just needed to do some digging and number crunching, nothing big," he assured him with a smirk before leaning back in his seat and raising a hand to signal a passing waitress to order himself a drink. Isaac kept his gaze on him to see if he was hiding anything but winced in pain as he shifted in his seat and felt the bruises along his side throb. It was Otto's turn to give Isaac a questioning look, arching his brow and pointing down to Isaac's ribs that he was currently holding. "But uh, what happened here anyway? You're not usually the one getting roughed up this much," he said just as the waitress arrived with his drink. "Don't tell me you let your guard down? Thought you were the professional muscle here," he teased before bringing his drink to his lips, trying his best to hide an amused smile. Isaac felt his brow twitch a bit in irritation, but let it slide and glanced up to Otto pointing at him with the two digits holding his cigarette. 

"You gave me bad intel, that's what happened," he stated clearly with a small frown. Otto nearly coughed up his drink before looking at him with wide eyes. 

"What!? Bad intel? ME!?" he questioned clearly offended by the claim. Isaac simply gave a nod and gestured to his bruised jaw. Otto scoffed and shook his head before tapping his finger on the table. "I don't give bad intel, everything I have is always good. More than good, it's damn near perfect!" he declared with a slightly puffed-out chest before jabbing a finger towards Isaac. "When was the last time I ever came up short for you?" he questioned with a determined gaze to clear his name. Isaac gave him an amused smirk and shook his head. 

"Never, everything up until now has been good," he said before pausing to sip from his drink. "But this time you made a mistake. What you gave me said I would only be dealing with two or three thugs, minimum. That place was chock-full of thugs," he muttered as he lightly rubbed his jaw. "I went in ill-prepared and ended up getting jumped by the bastards," he grumbled as he recalled the nasty fight down in the Herse slums. Otto only gave Isaac a disbelieving look, but soon relented and gave a heavy sigh before taking a large swig from his drink with an annoyed frown. 

"Shit," he hissed before swinging his arm over the edge of his seat. "So I'm guessing you weren't successful in retrieving the package?" He questioned as he looked off around the bar. Isaac gave an amused scoff and dug into his coat to pull out a thick envelope before sliding it over to Otto. 

"I never said that. Just got more of a beating than was needed to get it," he said before sinking into his seat and enjoying the surprised look from Otto as he looked down at the successfully retrieved package upon the table. Otto soon overcame his shock and let his usual grin return to his face as he took the envelope, testing its weight and letting out a chuckle. 

"Damn Vix, good shit," he said before tucking the package away into his jacket with a nod. "Clients will be really happy to have this bag of goodies back. I trust you kept this professional and didn't do any snooping?" he asked only to be met with a deadpanned expression from Isaac. "Got it, got it just needed to ask. This does belong to a suit after all," he says before patting the new lump in his jacket. "Anyways, good job Vix. I'll take things from here and make sure you get your cut by the end of the day. Keep an eye on that account," he chuckled before downing the rest of his drink and slapping the table as he rose to his feet. Isaac gave a curt nod and held up his drink as Otto turned on his heel with a two-fingered salute and made his way towards the exit of the bar. 

With the business of the day now done and over with Isaac let out a long sigh before putting out his cigarette and twirling his drink in his hand. [i]'Could have been worse I guess. At least I still get some credits at the end of the day,'[/i] he thought to himself before feeling his wounds flare up again in irritation. A pained expression painted his face as he stared into his drink, noticing the ice had finally melted away. For a moment a heavy silence hung over the lone freelancer, his thoughts drifting off to space before closing his eyes and downing the rest of his drink. Gritting his teeth he let the burning, golden liquid do its job before opening his eyes and waving down the waitress for another order. He had a feeling it was going to be one of those nights.