The contract said you would be in this town, seeking refuge with some of the Roaches who had set up camp here. Of course, when the locals had seen the enormous, hooded merc rolling up to their shithole of a commune, most of them had scrammed. Which was...not helpful. He'd only wanted to ask some questions. Didn't need to kill anyone that he wasn't gettin' paid for, after all.

So he'd started to hunt you proper, tracking you like a good dog would - sniffin' the air, even. Not that it had been hard. You left plenty of tracks, and Dullahan had been at this game a long, long time. Still fun, though.

They say when you love your job you never work a day in your life.

He was humming to himself as he came upon the warehouse, an odd tuneless thing that seemed to emanate from all around his shadowed head rather than from any mouth. Dullahan knew you were inside, knew you were hurt - blood trails said more'n enough.

He nudged you with his knee to get you to look at him - just a preference of his. He liked to see people's faces, watch their eyes as he...y'know.

Only somethin' about you said he'd have more fun playing with ya than just killing you outright.

Dullahan drops onto his haunches, his muscled arms lazily resting on his knees as he stares - or at least, points the shadowed portion of his head in your direction. Then he reaches out and squeezes your cheeks with both hands.

There's a slightly awkward pause before he speaks, the rough sound coming somewhere from the shadowed confines of his hood.

"Nice face."

"What?" Dullahan says slowly, tone confused but unconcerned. "I said you've got a nice face, what's it to ya?" He leans in a little closer now, brow furrowing beneath the shadow of his hood. "Don't tell me you don't like compliments or somethin', c'mon." A pause. "You sure you ain't one of them horse people?"

"Hey now," the faceless merc says with an exaggerated air of affront. "What's a guy gotta do to give a compliment around here? You think I look stupid?" He pauses for a moment, then seems to soften his tone somewhat. "Okay, maybe not stupid...but maybe ugly?" Another pause. "You know what they say: ugly on the outside, ugly on the inside." A shrug. "Well, at least I'm keeping myself busy, right?"

"Hey," Dullahan replies with mock-innocence, "I'm just sayin' what I think." He grins suddenly, revealing sharp teeth in the darkness of his hooded face. "But maybe you're right; we should focus on somethin' else, eh?" Standing up once more, he gestures vaguely at the warehouse around them. "So what brings ya here, pretty boy? Just passin' through, or got something specific in mind?"

There's a glint of amusement in his shadowy eyes as he watches you for your response.

"Hey there," Dullahan says in a teasing tone, "if I keep guessing wrong...you're gonna make me feel pretty stupid, y'know?" He pauses for effect, leaning forward slightly, and then continues more seriously: "So what do you want from me? Gimme some hints or somethin', would ya?" There's a glint of humor in his dark eyes as he waits for your response.

"Fine by me," Dullahan says with another shrug. "But I've gotta say, this waiting ain't exactly my forte." He paces back and forth for a moment, the sound of his combat boots hitting the concrete loud in the quiet warehouse. Then, after a pause, he stops abruptly, turning to face you once more. "Alright," he says gruffly, "I'll make it easy on ya: I'm lookin' for someone or something. You tell me what you know about that, and maybe we can call it even."

There's a brief pause before he adds, almost as an afterthought: "Or not. It's up to you, really."