as written by Stellar
Incredulous, Pandora's ensuing look would have been enough to shatter a glass. The guy really had a knack for pissing her off. Still, having someone like him on her side could help make things run a lot smoother, despite the resultant aggravation of having to deal with him and his merry band of Plague doctors. (Of course, she didn't know how close to the truth this assessment was). No matter how much she hated herself for having to admit it, she needed someone like Kaim to counter the sort of 'technology' Targard Tillman was running lose with. Without him, in her present state, Pandora would have to resort to medieval methods of taking Targard down; which, to a person like Pandora, sounded about as thrilling as watching paint dry.
Swallowing back her temper with a gulp of recycled air, she let her hand fall back to her side, fingers still aggravatingly tapping against her thigh. "Kaim, don't kid yourself. You and I both know you are presently permeating an air of complete and utter desperation, so just make this easy for the both of us. I need a man named Tillman, you need cash." She was going replay this moment later inside her head and cringe at ensuing taste of self-loathing. "Thirty-seventy. That's my final offer. Don't confuse this renegotiation with weakness."
To the melted-face ghoul, she finally assessed him with little more than a blink of an eye, finding herself already bored with this tirade—which was odd considering Kaim's companion had a face that looked like some Cubist painting left in far-too-close of a proximity to an industrial-sized oven. "And if you think you will get a chance to point a gun at the back of my head by the time this thing is through, then please, by all means, go ahead and try. But you might want to ask Kaim what happened to the last guy that attempted that. Or better yet, ask him yourself. I believe he is circulating Juiperus 9 from deep within the asteroid belt."
Incredulous, Pandora's ensuing look would have been enough to shatter a glass. The guy really had a knack for pissing her off. Still, having someone like him on her side could help make things run a lot smoother, despite the resultant aggravation of having to deal with him and his merry band of Plague doctors. (Of course, she didn't know how close to the truth this assessment was). No matter how much she hated herself for having to admit it, she needed someone like Kaim to counter the sort of 'technology' Targard Tillman was running lose with. Without him, in her present state, Pandora would have to resort to medieval methods of taking Targard down; which, to a person like Pandora, sounded about as thrilling as watching paint dry.
Swallowing back her temper with a gulp of recycled air, she let her hand fall back to her side, fingers still aggravatingly tapping against her thigh. "Kaim, don't kid yourself. You and I both know you are presently permeating an air of complete and utter desperation, so just make this easy for the both of us. I need a man named Tillman, you need cash." She was going replay this moment later inside her head and cringe at ensuing taste of self-loathing. "Thirty-seventy. That's my final offer. Don't confuse this renegotiation with weakness."
To the melted-face ghoul, she finally assessed him with little more than a blink of an eye, finding herself already bored with this tirade—which was odd considering Kaim's companion had a face that looked like some Cubist painting left in far-too-close of a proximity to an industrial-sized oven. "And if you think you will get a chance to point a gun at the back of my head by the time this thing is through, then please, by all means, go ahead and try. But you might want to ask Kaim what happened to the last guy that attempted that. Or better yet, ask him yourself. I believe he is circulating Juiperus 9 from deep within the asteroid belt."