Ezrael was early, but he felt he needed to be. Half an hour early at least. Much to the inevitable ire of his companion. The mage had badges, Terran Militia badges in fact, but rahter unique ones. Enchanted with the most fantastical of magics to grant the Militia the great advantage of...
"Communication," he calmly told the Saiyan who stared boredly at him from behind sunglasses, with big black boots up on the table.
"So what's the fucking point?" Patchi answered, arms raising to behind his bandana-clad head. It kept the hair from his eyes. "Couldn't you give us something cooler like radio wrist watches or, y'know, earpieces. I don't want to talk to my badge." The muscular man let out a sigh, arms now falling to either side. God damn he was so bored. Why did Ezrael always insist of coming early?
Ezrael tutted. He was a stark comparison to the Saiyan. Despite being dressed in extravagant black clothing he made all the efforts in the world to make himself seem conservative. He moved little and stood with his arms mostly at his side, only bending at the elbow to pick something up rather than reaching with his entire arm. "I'll tell you later, when the others have arrived. Until then, feet off the table and be patient."
Patchi didn't comply, instead turning his head towards the entrance where a lone guard was stationed.
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