Charon, at the very least, was able to separate himself from the contractually obligated lifestyle to some extent. Maybe not so much that there were any glaringly visible changes, but he went bowling, played pool, and a game of darts with someone he considered...someone he didn't mind hanging around, and that's just not something he would have done before he arrived here. Believe it or not he was on a personal mission to start anew -- that's why he's here, after all. What "starting anew" entailed, even he wasn't sure, but regardless of the fact that he found very little joy in the things he did once upon a time he went with it anyway.
Old habits die hard though, as he was still itching to get back to work. That's just how it was with him. Even if his job most of the day consisted of patrolling the same places over and over, diffusing ruckuses before they got out of hand, nothing glorious...but it was work. Work is what he knows. Even as he recalled vague memories of playing pool with the guys, having a beer and playing darts, bowling even...most of the feelings associated with them were long gone. And the ones that weren't were buried deep, because dredging them up seemed pointless. Casual conversation, engaging in these activities -- he partially recognized their role in living as your own person, but as he went through them it was hard to find purpose in them. Hence his incredible lack of enthusiasm.
The pat on the back earns a small sound from Charon, half-assed acknowledgement that Niko said something and Charon heard it. And a curt, "yes" at his offer. He will likely see him later, patrolling around like a mindless...ghoul.
He's already walking away when he hears the commotion behind him, and by the time he turns around he sees Niko being dropped on to the floor. Charon is quick to stride on over, neither concerned nor intimidated by the scaly punk, and stand between him and Niko, milky blue eyes boring holes into the man. His voice was more gruff than normal, if possible, but Charon made sure to speak clearly enough so he wouldn't have to repeat himself.
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Old habits die hard though, as he was still itching to get back to work. That's just how it was with him. Even if his job most of the day consisted of patrolling the same places over and over, diffusing ruckuses before they got out of hand, nothing glorious...but it was work. Work is what he knows. Even as he recalled vague memories of playing pool with the guys, having a beer and playing darts, bowling even...most of the feelings associated with them were long gone. And the ones that weren't were buried deep, because dredging them up seemed pointless. Casual conversation, engaging in these activities -- he partially recognized their role in living as your own person, but as he went through them it was hard to find purpose in them. Hence his incredible lack of enthusiasm.
The pat on the back earns a small sound from Charon, half-assed acknowledgement that Niko said something and Charon heard it. And a curt, "yes" at his offer. He will likely see him later, patrolling around like a mindless...ghoul.
He's already walking away when he hears the commotion behind him, and by the time he turns around he sees Niko being dropped on to the floor. Charon is quick to stride on over, neither concerned nor intimidated by the scaly punk, and stand between him and Niko, milky blue eyes boring holes into the man. His voice was more gruff than normal, if possible, but Charon made sure to speak clearly enough so he wouldn't have to repeat himself.
"The hell do you think you're doing?"