Locked to Erol; 80% Hackable

[sandpaperbreath]

[Sigh. He doesn't sound like he's sure he even wants to say this.]

Erol, it's...a day to drink, so--

Lemme get you a beer.

Comments

[psychoticracer]

...

((Okay, let him process this.))

...

((And process a little more. Torn... offering him a drink.))

...

All right.

((Actually that sounds really damn nice, as suspicious as he is. With Even gone, Kage in Carnival, and things still cooling off between him and Christine, he'd felt... restless. Irritable. Bored.

Lonely?

Torn wasn't high on his list, but they had been friends once, and they were both KG. That counted for something.))

Where to.

[sandpaperbreath]

[As surprised as he is that there's no argument or questions, he's pretty sure he'll be getting them later in the evening. Better not bring them up and hope that he might forget to ask later.

Well...no, fat chance of that, too.]

Somewhere away from all the round-eared drunks.

[Call him racist or...species-ist, but Mother of Mar and damnation, if he's not getting sick of all the fucking aliens. Fuck their rock and the Precursors that built it.]

There's plenty'a bars, it's just finding one.

Any ideas?

[psychoticracer]

Hn. Oceanview'll be full of them, not to mention Whitecastle will slip Black Shade into my glass if he's got half a chance. Mojito's staffed by that damn girly-boy, damn if I'm putting up with his shit.

What about Sergei's on 09?

((Yeah, so he's done a lot of rounds on the ship out of boredom.))

[sandpaperbreath]

...We'll see. Meetcha there, then.

[And out he heads for Sergei's, hoping to high hell there's no one there to ask stupid questions or bother him with their own stupid, cushy world.]