"Good idea," he said, gazing around the small suite. It was more lavish than he would have thought, not to mention the collection of weapons that was practically bursting out of the duffel. "And you had the money for..." He let the statement drop. He guessed she really had gambled on this kind of life. Jo likely saved up for months to get this ready, or she just stole it all. Both were likely, in his opinion. 

"This was supposed to be my debut." She admitted, somewhat embarrassed. 

"Still is," Markus reminded her, standing up from the chair he had grabbed. He went over to the duffel and set it at the foot of the bed. "You mind if I have a look?" 

"Be my guest." She said, perching at the side of the bed and idly swinging her feet as Markus zipped open the bag and pulled out a myriad of guns. As he did so, her smile widened as Markus's eyes grew wider. It was clear the usually unshakeable merc was getting bewildered at how many guns had been crammed into here, and how she had gotten them all. Even as Markus gave a 'fuck me' in awe, she began to talk conversationally. "Speaking of which, I have a question. When it was time to team up, you had a real rep. Why team up with me?" 

He shook his head, trying to place the guns in a manner that gave them a suitable part of the bed so he could view them all properly. Despite still being surprised, his voice was cool. "You mean other than saving my life?" 

"Yeah." 

Markus eyed the gauss rifle, but instead picked up the M7C handgun, checking its firing mechanism and the clip, searching for a few rounds of ammo for it. He never usually had a pistol, but with his sword gone and only his carbine on hand, he needed something that he could conceal with a modicum of stopping power. The M7C hadn't been in production in decades, he was surprised she got a hold of one. "You're new to the game. I knew everyone wanting to team up with me would just as easily shoot me in the back if it got them a larger share." 

"And you didn't think the person who infiltrated the meeting via disguise was that kind of girl?" She retorted as Markus balanced a few throwing knifes on his finger. He flipped one and whipped it through the air, noting the light whistling. Satisfied, he pocketed a few on his belt.

"Took a risk. Hasn't happened yet." He replied with a shrug, hefting a HRK riotgun. A six gauge with controlled plasma rounds, at least theoretically. He rummaged through the ammo, trying to see if he could find a few. It could blow a sizeable crater in a 2 inch place of titanium C. Eventually he found a few, but he would need to conceal the weapon in an over-the-shoulder case.

"And you've never done that before?" 

"Not unless someone was already planning on doing it to me." Markus loaded the riotgun, pumping it for good measure. Jocasta had hopped off the bed at that point, fishing through the closet and shoving aside the dressed before she tossed a bundle to Markus. He caught it with his right hand, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Here, don't have much in your size, but there was an oversized workers outfit that I'd bet is your fit." 

It was grey and white, and would at least serve to make anyone pointing a weapon at him think for a moment before firing. He shrugged again, dropping the shotgun and stripping his shirt off. He was lean but cut, with numerous scars from over a decade of hard living. Most notably there was a large scar on his abdomen, and a burn mark on his back that looked to be caused via some sort of plasma. Three oxidized dog tags 'clinked' against his chest when the top came off.

"Where's the bathroom? I'll change in there."