[center][img]http://image.ibb.co/fJAVun/quint.png[/img][/center]

The walk home had been a pleasant one in spite of the days events and the unshakable feeling that there was far, far more to the situation than what could be taken at face value.  Nothing reminded him of that more than the permeating smell of dirty smoke wafting up from his clothes.
Quint was craving a cold shower, and then after that an even colder drink.  It didn't take him long to reach his modest apartment.  The living space was certainly not much to brag about, but for just him it suited his needs perfectly.  It was moderate and unassuming, a place where work took up a minuscule place.  Best to keep work and home separate after all.  If his apartment ever got raided, MorSec would find sweet fuck all.  
Thankfully, thus far, nothing of the sort had happened.  Still, no reason to let down ones guard.

He took his time in the shower, as he liked to do.  The white noise of the water striking tile was a fine veil obscuring everything outside the glass and it gave him time to breathe and clear his head.  It was a little ritual that had slowly become habit, owing to a necessary measure of calm required to deal with ham-fisted MorSec border security and angry patrol men.  Not to mention your average Eden socialite...insufferable bunch of pricks they tended to be.

It was roughly an hour later that he made his way to the Floating Lotus.  The familiar neon glow felt more like home than his apartment did and he felt a small smile creep onto his face.  He was sure Esperanza would have started by now.
He approached the door, the familiar bouncers going about their clockwork routine of making sure only the right folks made up the Lotus' clientele.  
He didn't notice Connor Sullivan storming out of the building at first, he was moving like a man possessed.  
"Well, hey Sully.  Long time no s..."  Sully brushed straight past him as if Quint wasn't even there.  Clearly he had more important matters to attend to than small talk.  Quint could hardly blame him...he despised small talk.
"Alright then, catch you later I guess," Quint said to nobody in particular.

He approached the door and positioned himself for a pat down.
"Evening Quint, how's it hanging?" One of the men asked, familiarity easing into his voice.
"Can't complain, I guess.  Awful business in town today, huh?"
"Yeah.  Mr Sullivan was looking real mad."
"Well, woe betide the guy who gets in his way, right?"
"Heh, you said it Quint.  Alright, you're all good.  I don't have to tell you the rules."
"No sir.  Hey, catch me later and I'll buy you a beer."

Quint took a moment to observe Miguel and a cadre of Unseen escorting...Ret fucking Shuzu into the back?  Now just what in the hell was that little spy doing here?  That anxious knot in his stomach was back again, and with a vengeance.  The Unseen wouldn't call Ret unless they needed to find someone, and they didn't need to find someone unless that someone needed dealing with.
[i]Don't even think about it, Casey.  That's Unseen business, not yours.[/i]
Taking his own advice, Quint resumed his otherwise clockwork routine.  Approach the bar, order a drink, pay for drink, find seat with good view of Esperanza, drink and enjoy.  
Life wasn't all bad in Korven.  But it's just like the locals always said.
Things can [i]always[/i] be worse.