"How about an apple cider with some kind of lemon-lime soda?" Coreen asks as she sits down, charcoal smudges on the side of her nose, wearing a over-stretched teeshirt and shorts that seem to be covered in a very thin dusting of fur.
CJ offers a nod and a polite smile to the girl. "Right up." He reaches under the counter and to the shelves, gathering implements and beverages. "Just cold or iced?"
"CJ. Been 'ere long?" Yet another person he has not seen before, but it seems there is always someone new to know.
He fills a tall glass 1/3 with ice, and pours the cider and soda slowly over it to not let them go flat, adds a couple straws and slides it over. "Here you go."
"Two months and counting. I'm currently Bound. Probably'll be Bound at least another month, seeing as though I can't have my baby back home." She pats her belly.
She stops it in her hand and picks it up for a drink. Perfect. "Thanks, just what the baby ordered."
"I am glad I was never Bound. Would have gone crazy in a month or less." He shakes head, putting away the empty bottles. "Mind if I ask from where and when you are?" It is one of the 'Milliways basics' people talk about, after all: times and places.
"Well, being a little crazy to start doesn't hurt. It gets really boring, but you know, I'm seeming to find enough to keep my fairly busy...and there's always meeting new people," she takes a drink. "I'm from Toronto, 2008. Demons, vampires, monsters of most every variety."
That also seems to be a theme...'what the hell is wrong with your world'.
"San Andreas, 1995. Nothing of that, but I think there's aliens going around... dirty cops, crime, gangs, mobs, but it is not as bad as it was a while ago." Before he 'conquered' the state.
"Aliens will probably be next, with my luck. I'm a damsel-in-distress/sidekick," there's a shrug. "With apparently a large cosmic 'kick me' sign on my back."
"I'm working on training up to do just that. I've got a flamethrower in the works, and when I've had the baby, I'll be doing physical training, and some sword work. I'm looking for fire power though, and I haven't found where I can get my hands on what I need."
"I've used the one I built back home against a baddie not too awfully long ago. And sometimes...burning the hell out of a place is the only thing that can solve your problem," she shrugs.
She's handy with a iron mace too, surprisingly. Oh, and steeltoed boots don't hurt on occasion either.
"For up close you get no better than a hog leg. Nothing says pain like an old school double barreled shotgun sawed off below legal. But then you can get in real trouble if the cops catch ya." He ponders that. "Or you can get a .45 or better; I prefer a 9M for casual stuff and a Deagle for serious time."
She grins. It might be odd to see a very pregnant woman this excited over talking about weaponry, but with her life how it is...she's just as content talking about this.
"That might be worth investigating. The cops aren't really my worry. And, the place I'm moving to...they really aren't going to be a problem. I just want to be able to protect what's mine in the most obscenely 'stay the fuck away from her because she'll blow your balls off' sort of way."
"Go fer the hog, then, it's made to be damn scary. Jes' make sure to use both hands or the kick can snap your wrists." Not like CJ has that kind of problem, no, he is a big and strong man enough to dual-wield hog legs.
But he is not going to brag. "And keep a niner for backup."
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He fills a tall glass 1/3 with ice, and pours the cider and soda slowly over it to not let them go flat, adds a couple straws and slides it over. "Here you go."
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She stops it in her hand and picks it up for a drink. Perfect. "Thanks, just what the baby ordered."
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That also seems to be a theme...'what the hell is wrong with your world'.
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She gulps some of her drink.
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She pats the Bar.
"Since She won't give me any."
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He has experience to speak from, really.
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She's handy with a iron mace too, surprisingly. Oh, and steeltoed boots don't hurt on occasion either.
"Any suggestions on guns?"
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"That might be worth investigating. The cops aren't really my worry. And, the place I'm moving to...they really aren't going to be a problem. I just want to be able to protect what's mine in the most obscenely 'stay the fuck away from her because she'll blow your balls off' sort of way."
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But he is not going to brag. "And keep a niner for backup."
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