“Never should have left those stupid handprints,” he growled finally, in a dejected kind of way. He was being robbed one way or another. At least this way she stayed alive, and he ensured his own survival. “Dead giveaway!”
“You certainly went out of your way to avoid the other sections, didn’t you,” she said approaching him. Her voice had no trace of pain she was likely enduring. Miracle of drugs, or something such.
“Residential area always had the least amount of buggers. Which is not saying much considering they could still pack a theater,” he sighed, his tone deflated. Mood was bouncing all over the place and he felt like he was less and less in control of the situation. They went where she dictated – well, where the boss man dictated… she had proceeded to rob him of his precious few valuables. All of that contributed only to worsening his temper.
When he turned back he saw one Sierra Madre chip dancing across her knuckles. His eyes followed it, as the coin twirled and disappeared into her pocket. Not the first one. Not the last one, in fact. She probably had a full purse of those under her belt by now.
She started doing that after the light and gun show, collecting chips but not using too many of them; returning some surviving pre-war bits and pieces for more… Like they were made of gold, and she was at the height of a gold fever. A wheel clicked and turned in his head. Do they even have gold fevers nowadays? Does gold have any value now?
For some incomprehensible reason, these things bothered him. The way she held onto them. It made him paranoid. What will she do once they reached the vault? Perhaps she won’t reach the vault. Perhaps she’ll just open the vault and then…
“You sure came a long way to rob this place. I guess greed is in the blood.” She heard him say, interrupting wherever her thoughts may have gone. Acidic slime oozing from the chomped up limbs of ghosts couldn’t compare to his words.
Guilty was silent at first, mulling over the best suited answer – one that wouldn’t set him off like a powder charge.
“If this is about the Casino, I’ll say right now that I have zero interest in it. Feel free to keep anything you find in it.”
Building falling, behind them preferably, would have had less of an effect.
“Really?” He called with utter disbelief in his voice. She stopped and turned. As the night had fallen and the Cloud had turn from red to sickly purple, she was barely visible in her dark suit, and her helmet tilted down. It made it impossible for Dean to have any grasp of her possible reactions with it obscuring her face. In light that she refused to remove it even in the face of injury he had come to conclusion that she must do it to either keep him on his toes or because she had a face to make him appreciate his own appearance. “Why are you here then? I can’t imagine you stumbling your way into Madre.”
Other reasons… Although Guilty didn’t think Dean would show anything more than a passing, superficial interest in ‘when’ and ‘how’ and ‘that’s bloody why’ of her coming here, she choose not to elaborate.
“I knew Sierra Madre had a vault. I just assumed that it was a shelter from bombs, not a… depository. Guess I didn’t expect things to be this bad when I headed out.”
“Yeah, right,” he snorted but as she kept quiet he turned thoughtful. “Partner,” he started, “people don’t come to Sierra Madre because of nice weather, beautiful atmosphere, generous locals or,” he pointedly looked at her, “to satisfy their curiosity.”
Courier’s eyes narrowed. He was sharp – for the most part. She was yet to decide what to make of that.
“You not believing me is not my problem, unless you decide to make it so,” she spoke softly and moved away, measuring steppes carefully. They had ways to go still.
Dean snorted, because he didn’t believe a word she had said. The Courier had displayed interest in the Madre, Dean didn’t miss things like that, and he was not about to let her get the better of him.
F!Courier/Dean Domino - A Heist - 7c
“You certainly went out of your way to avoid the other sections, didn’t you,” she said approaching him. Her voice had no trace of pain she was likely enduring. Miracle of drugs, or something such.
“Residential area always had the least amount of buggers. Which is not saying much considering they could still pack a theater,” he sighed, his tone deflated. Mood was bouncing all over the place and he felt like he was less and less in control of the situation. They went where she dictated – well, where the boss man dictated… she had proceeded to rob him of his precious few valuables. All of that contributed only to worsening his temper.
When he turned back he saw one Sierra Madre chip dancing across her knuckles. His eyes followed it, as the coin twirled and disappeared into her pocket. Not the first one. Not the last one, in fact. She probably had a full purse of those under her belt by now.
She started doing that after the light and gun show, collecting chips but not using too many of them; returning some surviving pre-war bits and pieces for more… Like they were made of gold, and she was at the height of a gold fever. A wheel clicked and turned in his head. Do they even have gold fevers nowadays? Does gold have any value now?
For some incomprehensible reason, these things bothered him. The way she held onto them. It made him paranoid. What will she do once they reached the vault? Perhaps she won’t reach the vault. Perhaps she’ll just open the vault and then…
“You sure came a long way to rob this place. I guess greed is in the blood.” She heard him say, interrupting wherever her thoughts may have gone. Acidic slime oozing from the chomped up limbs of ghosts couldn’t compare to his words.
Guilty was silent at first, mulling over the best suited answer – one that wouldn’t set him off like a powder charge.
“If this is about the Casino, I’ll say right now that I have zero interest in it. Feel free to keep anything you find in it.”
Building falling, behind them preferably, would have had less of an effect.
“Really?” He called with utter disbelief in his voice. She stopped and turned. As the night had fallen and the Cloud had turn from red to sickly purple, she was barely visible in her dark suit, and her helmet tilted down. It made it impossible for Dean to have any grasp of her possible reactions with it obscuring her face. In light that she refused to remove it even in the face of injury he had come to conclusion that she must do it to either keep him on his toes or because she had a face to make him appreciate his own appearance. “Why are you here then? I can’t imagine you stumbling your way into Madre.”
Other reasons… Although Guilty didn’t think Dean would show anything more than a passing, superficial interest in ‘when’ and ‘how’ and ‘that’s bloody why’ of her coming here, she choose not to elaborate.
“I knew Sierra Madre had a vault. I just assumed that it was a shelter from bombs, not a… depository. Guess I didn’t expect things to be this bad when I headed out.”
“Yeah, right,” he snorted but as she kept quiet he turned thoughtful. “Partner,” he started, “people don’t come to Sierra Madre because of nice weather, beautiful atmosphere, generous locals or,” he pointedly looked at her, “to satisfy their curiosity.”
Courier’s eyes narrowed. He was sharp – for the most part. She was yet to decide what to make of that.
“You not believing me is not my problem, unless you decide to make it so,” she spoke softly and moved away, measuring steppes carefully. They had ways to go still.
Dean snorted, because he didn’t believe a word she had said. The Courier had displayed interest in the Madre, Dean didn’t miss things like that, and he was not about to let her get the better of him.