Orren soon rode back into the base of operations. He hopped off of his bike and leaned it against a support column. The shortish man seemed a bit distracted as he wandered towards the snack machine to get himself some actual food. The sticky buns that had been sitting in there for only a few days seemed like a better choice than the more the sketchy snack cakes that were probably pre-pulse. Just as his super nutritious breakfast plopped into the bottom of the machine, Dylan and John came riding back in.
John's eyes were wide with excitement as he recounted their latest adventure. "Did you see how fast that guy pulled that gun out? He could have shot our heads off! It's a good thing he recognized you. Hey how'd you'd now that guy, anyways?"
"A brother's gotta have connections," Dylan said, cryptic as always. The pair came to a stop inside the building and set their bikes aside. Dylan perked up when he saw that Orren was back from his run. "Hey best friend!" He chirped, striding over and helping himself to a bite of Orren's sticky bun. The shorter man defensively pulled it away and grumbled unintelligibly with a full mouth.
Orren turned around to stalk off, only to see that the one friend of his that he considered somewhat more competent than the rest was here. "Hey Per," He greeted her in a less hostile tone than usual. "Want some gut bomb?"