There was just something not quite right about the old man.
Warnings: Could break your mind if you're as twisted as me.
Notes: Just an excuse to get away with not writing anything with any sort of plot. Again. Read into this one as you will, but be very careful.
"Uh, Fayt?" Cliff glanced behind them before leaning down towards the young man, "Who the hell is that?"
Fayt looked back at the large tattooed form engaged in a lively conversation with Nel. "Adray Lasbard. He's Claire's father and he wasn't going to take no for an answer."
"Maybe you just weren't trying hard enough," Cliff muttered.
"He's not that bad, Cliff," Fayt earnestly said. "I'm sure it's just something we'll get used to. Uh, eventually?"
Cliff sighed and closed his eyes, "There's just something I don't quite like about him. It's-"
"You must be Cliff Fittr. I have heard much about you, though I must say I expected someone more impressive looking!" One large hand slammed down onto Cliff's shoulder with enough force to send a normal human sprawling a good distance. Cliff blinked at it and twitched slightly. Adray blinked before grinning widely. "I see that you are much stronger than you look my friend."
"Um, yeah," Cliff shrugged out from under the hand and warily eyed the grinning man. He didn't like the fact that the old man smiled more than he did. The other's took the chance offered and continued on without sparing Cliff a backward glance.
"Are you really an engineer?" the man fell into a contemplative stance eyes studying him. "You seem like you're built more like a fighter than anything else."
"I'm more of a smithy than designer," Cliff cautiously edged back. There was a gleam in the man's eyes that he did not like. He did not like it at all.
"Ah!" Adray laughed loudly and threw one arm companionably over the blond's shoulders. "Looks can be deceiving. I have a feeling you and I will be very good friends, young Cliff."
He really didn't like that look.