Fork Tongued Dealings [Safira, Sigurd]

It was certainly an enlightening experience with the Hero of Karakura. She liked the gumption that he had and the irony of the fallen hero brought a smug grin to her face at seeing him so low. It was unfathomable as to what could've given him a change of heart to turn against everything he once was. It wasn't like she'd ever met him personally but she was well aware of his invasion of Los Noches during her time there.

This might even be called a settled debt for him giving her the opportunity to liberate herself by attacking Hueco Mundo and defeating Aizen. She might not be the most compassionate individual but her pride demanded a sliver of honour in her blackened heart.

Under the shadow of a tree and a small watering hole she had made her nest, there was a lot to sort out if she was going to reclaim what belonged to her though. The mighty beast that her powers had taken the form of wouldn't be felled so easily, and should they be felled then it would come a great price to herself.

Planning, gathering, and executing: three steps to a mission going successfully. His task is simple; a collection of objects strewn around the battlefield. They sell for a pretty penny on the black market, and with people always innovating, technology that is usually kept from them is always wanted. The dead have no need for it anyway. Reduced to a scavenger though, Sigurd held no high regard for what he's about to do. In the end, it is all a means to food on his table.

However, as he staked out the area, he noticed a strange existence, be it Hollow, Shinigami, or Quincy. Them existing, though, worried him for the sole reason that he'd hate to have to remove them during his mission. Binoculars put away, helmet adjusted, and bike revved, he approached, not caring for hiding himself. Mercenaries and the sort are not uncommon out here in the wasted lands of Africa. Everyone's trying to get ahead. He has plenty of excuses to get himself out of a pinch, and the sword on his back proved one of his better reasons.

Nonetheless, as he neared, he knew he'd have her eyes on him, but that deterred little from turning his bike to the side to stop before her presence, Vizard eyes staring down the prone green haired woman. He sensed nothing prominent from her, but he made himself consciously clear of his necklace incase he needs to remove it. People are privy to keeping their actual capabilities hidden, much like himself. Either way, he made no act against her, for he knew she'd throw the question his way eventually. They always do. It's basic conversation.

"You like the other one?"

She glanced over at the masked individual. What an imposing figure he cast in all black but the entire visage just evoked the memory of the other woman. Bike and all. Scavengers seemed to becoming common if twice was a coincidence. One more and she might call it a pattern in such a short span of time.

Good. She was glad that knocking away the defences of the hole had all these third parties trying to exploit it. Decentralising the valiant warriors of goodness and their hold over this territory. Even if she had lost a majority of her power from this, it didn't change the fact the situation had shifted to something more desirable.

The other one? Is there another tree? Is she asking him to move? Perhaps she meant another person? Another mercenary? Are there others around? Are they here now? Have they already left? is this a trap? Should he kill her and disappear?

Well, either way...

He unsheathed the massive blade on his back, swinging it forward until its heavy edge cut into the Earth between the two. Despite his entirely unreadable pressure, the sword gave off an eerie hum of barely tempered power. Though, instead of threatening her with it, the sword was tilted up before the handle was used as a purchase for his arm. Strangely enough, it proved stable enough to hold his armored weight against it like a wall.

Still, he gave her no explanation, his gaze bearing down on her. One of them is going to reveal something, and it doesn't seem like he's itching to do so. If they're to sit in silence, letting ponderings go unasked or mysterious riddles be left unanswered, so be it. He doesn't have anything to do, and boredom is quickly handled by the bike behind him.

Quite the charming young... man. She shall assume for this one. That armour does nothing to accent a woman's body, does it? So why would the fairer sex conceal themselves, though suppose they were self-conscious and weak-willed. Now that might be an idea. This was all unnecessary to her though because it was just taking away from the only questions that mattered.

"What do you want and what do you offer?"

If it was among Asher's thralls then this silence wouldn't be the case at all. So it must be capable of reason. What did she do then? Determine what it wanted and if she could use it for something.

She could stare it down for as many hours as it took but she didn't have the time for that.

"...So you hire. A bit close to the action, though, aren't you..."

Finally, he spoke, but his mask obscured his voice behind a muffled layer. Now it's obvious that the individual's no woman unless their technology had ensured complete anonymity. With that said, the man offered nothing else for the conversation after his assumption, simply returning to staring before a random breeze traveled through. Then he stood straight and removed his blade from the ground until placing it back on his back.

"I offer enough if it's worth it," Was all he had to say as he returned to his bike and sat a top it.