The Prodigal X5 Returns
He'd only really been in Seattle a few weeks. The hint of Aussie was still lingering in his voice, and it wasn't necessarily a problem -- sector police didn't check Australians for barcodes -- but it still was making him stand out. Standing out was always a bad thing, because it always attracted attention that he didn't want.
Which is why when his new boss, under sneaking suspicion that he was banging his wife -- which he was, but that was besides the point -- asked him to run a package over to the local messenger service, he didn't complain about it as much as he normally would. Now was his chance to let his ear get used to the vernacular. That way, when this boss fires him and he was ready to move on to the next enterprise, he would blend in a little bit better than he did before.
He made his way around the corner of the entrance of the Jam Pony, spinning the package in his hands lightly. It was jewelry -- an anniversary present for the adulterous wife in order to try and win her back again -- and it was rather expensive stuff at that. Could probably be hocked for a decent amount of money if he felt like getting fired sooner rather than later, but as of right now, he was content to just do his job.
He lazily made his way over to the dispatch desk, ignore his nose in favor of his ears, trying to pick up on what's going on around him and the sounds the people were making, rather than realizing what they were.
"You wouldn't happen to know where I'm supposed to drop of packages, would you, mate?" He was sounding very Aussie at this point, completely abandoning every thing else in favor of what was going on around him and listening very carefully to a conversation that two of the messengers who happened to be conversing a few feet away. Manticore wasn't trying to breed him into double-oh-seven for nothing, after all.
Which is why when his new boss, under sneaking suspicion that he was banging his wife -- which he was, but that was besides the point -- asked him to run a package over to the local messenger service, he didn't complain about it as much as he normally would. Now was his chance to let his ear get used to the vernacular. That way, when this boss fires him and he was ready to move on to the next enterprise, he would blend in a little bit better than he did before.
He made his way around the corner of the entrance of the Jam Pony, spinning the package in his hands lightly. It was jewelry -- an anniversary present for the adulterous wife in order to try and win her back again -- and it was rather expensive stuff at that. Could probably be hocked for a decent amount of money if he felt like getting fired sooner rather than later, but as of right now, he was content to just do his job.
He lazily made his way over to the dispatch desk, ignore his nose in favor of his ears, trying to pick up on what's going on around him and the sounds the people were making, rather than realizing what they were.
"You wouldn't happen to know where I'm supposed to drop of packages, would you, mate?" He was sounding very Aussie at this point, completely abandoning every thing else in favor of what was going on around him and listening very carefully to a conversation that two of the messengers who happened to be conversing a few feet away. Manticore wasn't trying to breed him into double-oh-seven for nothing, after all.