@BURGERKING— @ALL
I have four palps, one spinneret, and a leg from the metatarsus down.
If anyone has a need for these parts, respond and we'll do business.
If not, I have nothing to say to you at this time.
If anyone has a need for these parts, respond and we'll do business.
If not, I have nothing to say to you at this time.
no subject
hei looks down at his disc, then over at john's, then up at his face. pressing the button with a knifecat.png stare, just in case the man is lying and they need to throw down in the back of a hunting supply store.
while that's happening:)
... What is your name? Why are you with COST?
no subject
Here I'm Joe Strummer. If we both make it out of here alive I'll give you my real name when we get back to BASE. As for why I'm here, that's really none of your business.
What shall I call you? I assume you don't go by Burger King.
no subject
(fucking uses... his "real name" like a doucher...
gallipoli was a slaughter and remembering to call anyone by their fake name was difficult—here on jhashch, things are different. he has time to commit them to memory when he's not running around trying to remember how to alter the molecules of mustard gas into a stable compound before the linings of his throat and lungs melted.
but that doesn't mean he's going to think up another one when hei is a codename in itself.)
Whether you chose to be here, as I did, or you were given the same memory loss story as half the other recruits, I guess it doesn't matter. If you or anyone else tries to pull something, I'll make it my business.
Otherwise... (... shrugs...)
no subject
He only remembers pieces about his recruitment. He doesn't remember the how or when, but he does remember the intensely personal why. The one detail he does know isn't about to be shared anytime soon.]
I'm not wanting to pull anything, mate. Here or otherwise. [He holds out a hand, palm up.] But I can't be certain you aren't either, so I'd like my card back.
no subject
(reaches back over, that gold chip held between two fingers and offered out. before pressing it into the centre of john's palm.)
—and don't call me "mate". It's disconcerting around a bunch of fucking spiders...
(TURNS TO LEAVE with a dramatic whip of his coat. what a loser.)