Always running his mouth, yeah he's got a few scars
Nate plays his role as best as he can, though he can't help the way he shifts, rolls his shoulders in preparation to move, to strike, as knuckles and necks pop in a clear threat. Can't help the sneer offered to the thug who looks towards him, his own knuckles popping now. All he needs is Zeph's go ahead, some kind of sign, and he can start swinging, can show exactly what he can handle.
Except, that sign doesn't come, and his bright glare turn's to Zeph, as again he tries to take the properly diplomatic route. Nate doesn't think his words are going to work at all (though they're peppered with interesting tidbits), but he's also not going to be the reason they don't. He cages a wholly performative sigh behind his teeth and settles again, itching to actually swing, almost hoping that it turns south now.
Except, that sign doesn't come, and his bright glare turn's to Zeph, as again he tries to take the properly diplomatic route. Nate doesn't think his words are going to work at all (though they're peppered with interesting tidbits), but he's also not going to be the reason they don't. He cages a wholly performative sigh behind his teeth and settles again, itching to actually swing, almost hoping that it turns south now.
NATE
