Just kicking back...

[pvt_morelli]

The Warthog's radio blaring jazz into the air (after he'd gotten it off the salsa selection - how did that happen, anyway?), Morelli was slouching as well as armour and space allowed over the dashboard, the everpresent heat sending him half to sleep. Not quite, though. He was still awake enough for some things

Comments

[free_ndakota]

The Freelancer had finally grown tired of snooping inside the red base with zealot, but he was still famished. He had smoked at least three cigarettes to quell the savage growling in his stomach, but a man couldn't survive off of nicotine alone. A man could survive off nicotine and coffee, but regretfully, there was none

[pvt_morelli]

"Dah, something, da dah..." Morelli hummed, not entirely paying attention to the world around him, but the cloud of smoke was enough to catch his attention easily. He coughed and looked over, blinking. Who was this guy? The armour colour - whoever he was, he wasn't a red. Didn't look all that blue either - oh, great, he managed not to mutter out loud. Best see what he wanted around here.

"Yeah, sure," he said, sitting up, resting an elbow on the steering wheel and leaning his head to the side, a little put out by the 'hey, you' but not letting it get to him. "Go on."

[free_ndakota]

Dakota rested a hand on his hip, taking another long drag from his cig before he continued.

"I'm looking for a friend of mine. He's another Freelancer, goes by the name of South Dakota. He's kind of quiet, likes blowing things up and garroting people. Seen him?"

[pvt_morelli]

"South Dakota..." he muttered. "Haven't seen him, I know there's a coupla freelancers around here, but I ain't seen a Dakota yet." He shrugged. "Seen a Connecticut but he's the only one I know. Sorry, man." Morelli gave a slight wave in turn, not really wanting to irritate the freelancer too much.