If she helped herself, there'd be a trail

[girl_upgraded]

Thing about creds is they eventually run out. A hot meal with a nice man only lasts so long, then it's back to the squat, back to the streets, back to being the girl who can get it done, if you can find her. The Captain hasn't needed her lately, so there's no income there, and begging in the Underground just got her run off. Sometimes, she's no

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[makes_a_law]

He'd been lucky, offworld, or at least that's what the unlicensed med doc had said.

Stab wound up between the third and forth intercostals, missing heart and lungs and stomach by centimeters, no major veins or arteries nicked. He'd paid the man without comment or question, because they both knew what that kind of injury meant. It wasn't the kind of thing you got going around and being a Good Citizen.

He'd transported back some unmarked boxes from Oublie for an associate of Harkness's and gotten paid well enough for it. Enough for antibiotics, at least. Now, he limped down a street in Siam, thinking What now? What next? I saw my monster and he's fucking real.

Real enough to bleed, at least.

"Hey," he says when he sees her, some relief making his expression more mild, less fatalistic. "Out in the sun and everything. I'm impressed, Rave. How has the world been to you?"

[girl_upgraded]

The girl looks up, flinching at the name. Ready to run. But it's him, the one who fed her and was kind. The one who paid her last.

"Hey," she replies, smiling tightly, trying so hard to do as she's seen. "You come for a Run? Cheap this time," the girl says, her voice raspy and quiet. She guards the cup like the treasure it is. No nutrition, but it tricks her guts into thinking there's something there when ther isn't. Like a Mirror Construct. She's not so scattered she doesn't notice the change in him, though. Can't access the name, but knows men don't walk that way. "Your body is wrong. Different. Why?"

[makes_a_law]

"Yeah," he says, sidling closer, noting the burn outs and the junkies and the other hackers that would sell you someone dirtiest secrets just to get inside your head and then sell yours, too. He pitched his voice lower. "I might. What you got me last time was dead on. But I need more."

He touched the bandage under his clothes and winced. If she'd seen it, then it meant that a scum bag looking for an easy victim would have seen it too.

"It's nothing." He made a pained expression. "Ran into...an old friend last week. That's all."

[girl_upgraded]

"That information is corrupt," the girl says, moving closer to him before any of the others can try to snake him from her. "Old friends aren't good for you. Can we eat? Real food?" she asks, then turns with a twitch and her hand shoots out, lightning fast, and she points all four fingers at a greasy by in boots and denim with short hair and a rusted jack.

"Mine," she hisses. She's small, frail, twitchy, but in that moment in the flesh and blood world of loud noise and bright sunshine, she's as vicious as any of the Runners. She a snake. A cat. A chainsaw. Acid. She might not be able to fight them off, but everyone knows that she's as hungry as they are and she'll keep what's hers. The rest of the crowd looks the man over, commiting him to memory. He's Rave's mark. No one else gets him.

No bother. He doesn't exactly reek creds.

"The girl can get what you need," she nods, looking up at him. Something...she should know this. She should have access. She asks anyway. "You aren't PK, right?"