[color=0054a6][h1] [center]Benjamin Marcus Zebrowski [/center][/h1][/color]

[color=0054a6][h1] [center]Black Sun Neurostim Den, June 12th 2177, 20:08 [/center][/h1][/color]

Benjamin walked down the corridor, wondering why he had said what he had said. He had a bad feeling that something terrible was going to happen. He hoped he wouldn’t get into a fight, but it could happen if he didn’t play his cards right. He was led into a side room from the furthest end of the corridor. 

Watching a woman approaching him, he had to say that even with her cybernetics, she was quite beautiful. “[color=0054a6][i]Yeah, you can say that.[/i][/color]” He said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “[color=0054a6][i]The P.I. business isn’t paying the bills as I thought. My friend told me that mercenary work is where I can make the big bucks. And I heard your group was looking for an extra pair of hands.[/i][/color]”  He could tell she was a soldier like him. However, he felt she was quite different from the others. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but felt like he had seen her somewhere. 


Ben shook her hand with a smile on his face. “[color=0054a6][i]Name’s Ben.[/i][/color]”  Cringing when he felt the prick of the needle. “[color=0054a6][i]Ow, I usually like someone to buy me a drink before asking me for blood.[/i][/color]” Ben was rubbing his palm. “You’d probably find some military records, maybe some arrest for public drunkness, but nothing too special.” Shrugging his shoulders. He was playing it cool since he was kinda telling the truth. And being cool as a cucumber would help save his ass.


Actions: N/A | FP: 4| Stress: 0| Consequences: 0
Tag: [@MrSkimobile]