SPACE STATIONS > The Cancer

Hot Abs and Nice Conversation

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Marjorie:
Raf nodded. “That’s probably true,” even if you got yourself a new identity with good credentials and really changed your appearance, they’d probably find you eventually if you staid in one place long.

He listened as she kept talking. “You’re not wrong, they pay well too... but syndicates, gangs, and mobs tend not to let assists go once they’ve acquired them. You’d be better off keeping on the move and just doing freelance work.”  He shrugged. “The kind of work I do, it’s always nice to have someone around can patch up bullet wounds and such.” It was a vague offer for her to stay with him, at least for a while.

Incandesa:
Natasha looked at him with raised a surprised eyebrow. She could understand taking in a stranger for a while in a panic, but hardly a freeloader. "And what kind of work do you exactly do, Mr. Raf?" she asked. "If you do not mind me asking of course."

It was better for the good doctor to know at least partially what she was getting into. For all she knew, staying with Raf was more dangerous than running on her own.

Marjorie:
Raf flashed her a grin. "I'm a pirate," he proclaimed with pride, "a fallen soldier from the side of a war that lost, and a professional scoundrel by trade." Well, none of that was a lie, but it was a bit short on the details. "I take jobs that allow be to shove a middle finger up Adelios' ass for free," he shrugged, "and I am sometimes a smuggler, sometimes a thief, sometimes a strong arm for a pretty lady in need." He grinned, teasing, flirting.

Incandesa:
Natsha gave a giggle. Was he flirting with her? The instincts of her old life screamed 'yes,' but it seemed so outrageous with all of her clearly robotic prostetics. He was likely just having casual fun. Still, casual or not, she missed having a man's attention and the back and forth banter of flirting. "Oh? A pirate, my aren't you the bad boy. And have there been many pretty ladies in need?" she teased back.

Marjorie:
“Oh, just a one or two,” Raf replied. He moved a little closer to her and leaned against the wall. “Do you like bad boys?” He asked. Rich girls sometimes liked a little fantasy. Small escape from the fairytale into reality. His reality could be actually dangerous though, and so could hers now, so he guessed they had that in common.

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