Zeke shot a glance at Ramsus briefly before turning aroud, ignoring Quinn's question about his wounds, and promptly leaping into the air to deliver a forceful high-five to Azuka. "Damn right! We're ready to rock out, and the only thing that's going to stop me is death! Of course, that's impossible, because I'm the invincible mercenary." He flashed a bishounen grin, tossing his ponytail slightly as he noisily cracked his neck. "Hopefully, you guys aren't gonna have to follow me around too much. I know where an alternate exit is, according to this schematic, and if I'm correct, the cell block I'm looking for is essentially on the way."
Striding down the hallway, not caring too much whether or not anyone was following him in the first place, Zeke paused momentarily to back up against the wall before cautiously leaning around the corner to see whether or not anyone was down there. Seeing no one, he proceeded to step around, exercising much more caution than the group had previously. As he came to the next corner, he stopped again, pressing himself up against the wall to listen for sounds.
"Hey, Mick, you think we're gonna get that raise anytime soon?" queried a voice from around the corner.
"Fuck if I know. Bastards in payroll don't give a flying dragon's ass about any of us, I swear. I've gotta family to feed!" replied another male voice, clearly irritated. Footsteps indicated that someone was on patrol, moving around back and forth in the corridor.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. I promised I'd get my wife a new wedding necklace, we're supposed to renew our vows in a couple weeks...she thinks we rushed into everything and wants to have a proper ceremony this time..."
"What the fuck kinda thing is that?" replied the harsher voice, punctuating his sentence with a spitting sound followed by the clank of metal. Probably chewing herb and using a spittoon, observed Zeke. Might be somewhat useful knowledge...
"I dunno, it's just, well, I love her and I want her to be happy, so I'm going to see what I can do." Exasperated, the owner of the first voice sighed heavily. "These prisoners are probably dangerous. Y'know, or would be, if they got out. Good thing they're locked in their cells. Like that guy over there? Wasn't he some sort of revolutionary mage?"
"Don't think too much, Hal," replied the second voice. "They don't pay you extra for it." Spit. Clang!
Hoping to catch the guard during the fraction of a second that he'd be busy spitting out his tobacco, Zeke whirled around, handguns drawn, and fired repeatedly. Muzzle flashes exploded from his weapons, a cluster of shots catching the crude soldier and dropping him before he could react. His partner, wide-eyed, raised a glaive in Zeke's direction as the mercenary realized that he had done a terrible job of surveying the situation.
Sure, he had only heard two voices. Only two guards, he'd figured, having some sort of conversation about how tough life was. It'd be over for them both soon enough anyway, so why would they have to worry about it? He was doing them a favor, he figured, putting them out of their misery so they no longer had to whine about poor salaries and terrible inconveniences like being married.
What Zeke only realized after he had already given himself away was that there were no less than eight guards in the hallway, and that it seemed as though they had been expecting him...