The night wore on and on, more drinks more cards and more random convocation. Things were starting to get a little hazy, but he still remember the majority of what they’d talked about. Red had gone into herself a little, but mostly talked about the matrix and hacking – things Thorin listened to but could only half understand. It all seemed so complicated to him, one of the main reasons he hadn’t gone into hacking himself. That and the fact hi talents always seemed to lie in a completely, more ‘hands-on’ area.
Quicksilver opened up a little more, even talking about his parents who had been erased by a corp. From there he had made things happen for himself, getting himself to where he was today off of his own back. Asking in return Thorin had told his own brief story, nothing spectacular or involving anything really interesting for him. He’d gotten old enough to try his hand at work, and he was young and enthusiastic. The first little gang to give him a try wasn’t sorry, and from there he excelled and moved upwards – becoming an enforcer. From there he kept the details vague before saying how he’d one day needed more money, and so one day started doing jobs that would get him more money.
The rest of the night was hazier still, but in the end he hadn’t done so badly at the poker, though Quicksilver seemed to be playing even better. Thorin had almost forgotten that they were in Leverage, and when they did finally make to leave the music seemed all the more unbearable to him, and he grumbled loudly about it as they went. He wasn’t really so sure what had happened from there, but he knew that he’d woken home and alone. Somehow Red had managed to make it so that he’d just taken the girls number, somehow making it seems like a real good idea to him at the time. All in all he had passed out with a smile on his face, especially as he’d left the bill at the club – the drinks all being charged to the private room (after all he figured Mr Johnson had the nuyen to cover it).
The next morning was a much less jolly affair. Thorin awoke with a pounding headache that even paratechmol couldn’t get rid of, in the end he used his wired reflexes to dull the constant throbbing, getting ready for their meet in next to record time. This time he made sure he was fully packing, bringing his entire arsenal including his Ranger Arm sniper rifle, all disassembled and packed away into its special briefcase. It only made sense with him to have his gear at the safe house ready and waiting for the moment he needed it. He even wrapped his longsword in a cloth bundle and carried it in his other hand, meaning he was taking pretty much all he could carry.
On the way there he made sure to stop at one of the many 24hr convenience booths and stock up on cigarettes and even a few bottles of cheap whisky.As he was about to leave he hesitated before adding several food items to his shopping cart as well, just enough to keep him going for a few days. He intended to stay at the safehouse until this whole thing was over, and didn’t want to be popping out to get ‘supplies’ every time he was hungry or needed a smoke.
Quicksilver opened up a little more, even talking about his parents who had been erased by a corp. From there he had made things happen for himself, getting himself to where he was today off of his own back. Asking in return Thorin had told his own brief story, nothing spectacular or involving anything really interesting for him. He’d gotten old enough to try his hand at work, and he was young and enthusiastic. The first little gang to give him a try wasn’t sorry, and from there he excelled and moved upwards – becoming an enforcer. From there he kept the details vague before saying how he’d one day needed more money, and so one day started doing jobs that would get him more money.
The rest of the night was hazier still, but in the end he hadn’t done so badly at the poker, though Quicksilver seemed to be playing even better. Thorin had almost forgotten that they were in Leverage, and when they did finally make to leave the music seemed all the more unbearable to him, and he grumbled loudly about it as they went. He wasn’t really so sure what had happened from there, but he knew that he’d woken home and alone. Somehow Red had managed to make it so that he’d just taken the girls number, somehow making it seems like a real good idea to him at the time. All in all he had passed out with a smile on his face, especially as he’d left the bill at the club – the drinks all being charged to the private room (after all he figured Mr Johnson had the nuyen to cover it).
The next morning was a much less jolly affair. Thorin awoke with a pounding headache that even paratechmol couldn’t get rid of, in the end he used his wired reflexes to dull the constant throbbing, getting ready for their meet in next to record time. This time he made sure he was fully packing, bringing his entire arsenal including his Ranger Arm sniper rifle, all disassembled and packed away into its special briefcase. It only made sense with him to have his gear at the safe house ready and waiting for the moment he needed it. He even wrapped his longsword in a cloth bundle and carried it in his other hand, meaning he was taking pretty much all he could carry.
On the way there he made sure to stop at one of the many 24hr convenience booths and stock up on cigarettes and even a few bottles of cheap whisky.As he was about to leave he hesitated before adding several food items to his shopping cart as well, just enough to keep him going for a few days. He intended to stay at the safehouse until this whole thing was over, and didn’t want to be popping out to get ‘supplies’ every time he was hungry or needed a smoke.