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Night time looms, to the point that the town square of Beylix is rather barren, hot breeze invading the thick, humid air and sweeping along dirt in small miniature cyclones before they dissipate into nothingness. Not a soul roams the streets, though the tavern remains open, its lights on, as does the general store, its 'open' sign also flashing. The alleys and most buildings are shrouded in a thick, velvety darkness, light emanating from the street lights not reaching most areas

Only a few days after hearing Shian's complaints on the subject, and here she was, out walking alone at night. "'Least Jase usually has company, staying out all hours at the tavern," Marisa murmurs to herself as the glow of it's lights spills weakly into the close, dark night. There's no one to talk with as she walks into the square from the direction of some of the few local residences, but the woman speaks aloud anyways, perhaps warding off the emptiness with the sound of her voice in her own ears. A small bag is held in her left hand, the top curled over her fingers for a better grip, weighted down with small, uneven shapes. Marisa blinks purposefully, lifting her other hand to rub at dry eyes.

The feeling of being watched very much exists, but perhaps it's merely because the area is so dark. So empty. As Marisa speaks aloud to herself, there is the lightest sound emitting from slightly in front of her. Two alleys run parallel for a short distance, before one bends and branches around behind the local shop, the other running straight. A scuffing and a thud is heard from one of them, before silence resumes yet again, the only sound being the distant hum of the lights upon the taverns sign.

"Jien tah duh guay." (Like hell.) Head swivels to track towards the sound almost immediately. Now, if this were one of her crewmates, they might find concern - or just an itchy trigger finger - prompting an investigation of the sound. Could be a mugging. Could be some poor sot being tossed out the back door of a shop. It's a testament to circumstances that Marisa's curiosity is not enough to sway her from her path. She rolls shoulders in a shrugging motion, bringing the collar of the coat up higher against her neck as if that would block the feeling of surveillance, and steps on a hint more quickly. But as Marisa begins to draw a more shallow angle on the alleyways her eyes lift skyward in silent reflection, expression holding hints of 'I'm going to regret this', and then turns her head to try and peer down into the darkness to the source of the sound.

The inky darkness is encompassing in front of Marisa, nothing visible at all until she gets very close. When she does this however, something emerges directly in front of her, out of the shadows, right in her face. A barrel. It pushes out further, mere inches from the technicians face, turning into a .357 slick looking silver pistol, followed by a black gloved hand, eventually the form of a man stepping out. He's almost a reminder of Beck, yet taller and younger, seeming more on the athletic side, maintaining a very muscular visage. But he retains the same roguishly attractive appearance, short blonde hair scruffy upon his head, blonde sharp stubble upon his face. He wears a simply black short-sleeved shirt and black pants, a black leather belt holding his holster and several magazines for his weapon. "Marisa Talesin." He states smoothly in a slight southern drawl as he steps out of the shadow, pistol not wavering in her face. "Or Tails, I should say. You prefer that, right? I tell ya, this was easy. He wasn't kidding when he said you were a curious one." He smiles in almost a charming way, yet very, very ominous, and very casual about holding a gun to her face.

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