[centre][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220323/5c24b30693224cc8dc46e0bd1a769334.png[/img] [hr][/centre] [color=Silver] He'd been slumped in the corner stall for a while. What'd it been? An hour? Couldn't have been, he thought, the programme on the behind-the-bar TV still played the same show that started when he'd arrived. Things were just that slow, though, that those minutes dragged on endlessly. Time itself clawed its way through Night City with its nails in the tarmac. The seconds were split into drawn out intervals of glasses clinking, dishes stacking and cash registers exchanging eddies. Some people entered in and out, for cigarette breaks or to settle a verbal score they had with another customer, but things were generally as calm as they could be for a diner. He'd never been to place - except for that one time - and of all the places to eat in Watson, it surely was one of them. An unremarkable pixel on a large digital map of Night City. Couldn't get more humble than that. Across the walls were a few deface NUSA flags. Radio sets, leather seats - it had the budget works done to make it as aesthetically appealing for what was otherwise a very run-of-the-mill eatery. And he'd been staring at those damned knickknacks for a while. He started to wonder if he'd even arrived at the right place. Until, of course, the man of the hour waltzed in. Conrad could spot the greyness on his head from a mile away. And the rattle of his cybernetic right arm, not to mention the chesty cough as he clambered into the room, limp and all. Right down to the thunderous stomp of his steel-capped boots, Conrad could practically sense his arrival as if it were his own flesh and blood. A bit far, so to speak, for a work colleague, but with the depths of Night City in which he'd gone to with him, it wasn't so hard to say he'd gotten a knack for having the elder at nose-sense. [url=https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c6/81/1b/c6811b0bcdb7bf8b8730d332942c1641.jpg]Norman Reiner[/url]: so drained from the old NetWatch style that no one could even tell he once has the suave on his side. He clambered through the diner until he reached Conrad's table. He was about to get up to greet Norman, but he waved a hand and kept him locked to his seat. The formalities were to remain dead, he'd always say. For a second, it was just a silent back and forth between the two. Norman offered Conrad a cigarette, but he declined the offer. Conrad then offered Norman a drink, to which he eyed him back with a frown. A noiseless exchange of eyes and frowns did the talking until, in the eventual need to break the silence, the old man let out one large cough and chuckled to himself, extending a hand to shake. Conrad took up the gesture.[/color] [color=Orange][b]"How's it hangin', kid?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He let out that familiar crooked smile. Norman spoke with half a mouth, in that the left side did most of the annunciation whilst the right barely split ways when talking. Something of a shrapnel wound, or a blade slice. The story changed anytime someone asked.[/color] [color=Orange][b]"You been cuttin' profits recently?"[/b][/color] [color=B7CC5E][b]"Barely."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Conrad reached into his coat pocket, and drew out a little black flask. In one motion, he took a swig from it, and gulped up the last few drops left inside it. He turned to the glass of [i]Bolshevik Vodka[/i] he'd ordered and left mostly untouched, save for a few early sips. Then, he took a second to adjust himself, before he leaned forward with a low-energy business manner.[/color] [color=B7CC5E][b]"So - what's the hitch you have?"[/b][/color] [color=Orange][b]"The hitch?"[/b][/color] [color=B7CC5E][b]"You said you had a job for me, right?"[/b][/color] [color=Orange][b]"Oh, that?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Norman sprung into a coarse blend of a coughing fit and laughter. He hit the metal palm against the table and wiped away a fake tear with his fleshy counterpart as he pulled himself together. The Solo hadn't quite gotten the picture yet, but he wasn't left in the dark for too long.[/color] [color=Orange][b]"I just spitballed some crap; knew you wouldn't show if I didn't."[/b][/color] [color=Silver] What little energy Conrad had in his expression soon began to trickle away. He had briefest idea that the setup was there, yet he'd failed to capitalise on doing anything about it. Whatever his schtick was, he wasn't too fond of Norman's little exposé. Of all the littlest things left in life, simple honesty had become a currency most sought after, more than any eddies that were in Night City. He fell back into his chair and faced the ceiling with sluggish eyes. Had it been anyone else, he'd have taken his leave then and there, but the sloppy entrance and slow arrival of Norman compelled him to stay a little longer, lest he felt any more sorry for his troubled entrance.[/color] [color=B7CC5E][b]"Then what [i]are[/i] you here for?"[/b][/color] [color=Orange][b]"Can't a man check on his choom?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]With his cyberarm, he pulled Conrad closer and, with the other hand, he gave him a hearty pat on the back, half smiles and all to compliment. His response was the usual bluntness, but with a little more venom stitched onto it.[/color] [color=B7CC5E][b]"You're my business associate. My fixer. That's all there is to it."[/b][/color] [color=Orange][b]"Ouch - cold. Who shit in your beer, man?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He cockeyed a grin and pulled his arms back. The leather groaned beneath his weight as he eyeballed the diner around them. Already, the room looked a little darker than it had before. Norman wasn't the least satisfied with the tone but it hadn't deterred him from his goal. He lifted a rigid finger and cleared out any gunk from under his eyes, before he returned his focus back to his old workmate. [/color] [color=Orange][b]"I wanna see how you're doin'. I ain't seen you for anythin' other than short business in four months. You doin' good?"[/b][/color] [color=B7CC5E][b]"I'm doing good."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He said, dull in tone and with a little yawn.[/color] [color=Orange][b]"Come now, I know you ain't."[/b][/color] [color=B7CC5E][b]"Then why ask?"[/b][/color] [color=Orange][b]"If you'd've been honest then I'd've been happy."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He spluttered out. With greetings soured by the first minute, the two lingered around in limbo for a short while. The truth was that Conrad had done little to maintain what life he had in NetWatch. The people he knew, the ones he worked with, and the enemies he'd made - all of them seemed like another lifetime away. Familiar names came across as ancient pseudonyms for fictional people. That was the truth. He'd done himself little in the way of helping himself, and yet there he was still, fighting along as a Merc in Night City, in the coattails of Morgan Blackhand, of Johnny Silverhand, and of V. There were thousands of those just like him, those in worse circumstances and those in far better places, those that explored the lows he once roamed and those that reached heights that only legends could dream of. Norman hadn't done a damn thing wrong, he could say, but Conrad hadn't done a damned favour for him neither. The two had drifted yet still landed on the same shore eventually - in the Merc and Fixer life. Norman had done as much as he could with the life he'd chosen to give Conrad something to hold onto. He truly had. Fuck, Conrad knew this himself. But he just couldn't lower his guard and bring him in as a friend. There were scars that never healed, and when a home is demolished, it can never feel the same, even if rebuilt.[/color] [color=Orange][b]"Look, kid, you're worrin' me a little. Not in the way that I think you'll get rattled on a street corner tomorrow, but just as where you're at - if that makes a lick of sense?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Norman was returned with a short sigh. It was likely the best he'd get. Still, he continued. If Conrad weren't to speak, he'd chatter until he did. And to his credit, it worked.[/color] [color=Orange][b]"What's the endgame even at now?"[/b][/color] [color=B7CC5E][b]"I don't even know,"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Conrad finally let out,[/color] [color=B7CC5E][b]"maybe the answer will come soon."[/b][/color] [color=Orange][b]"Jesus, kid, [i]she[/i] really did a number on you..."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Before Conrad could interject, he pressed onward. Any chance to dwell on the comment only gave time for disaster to breed.[/color] [color=Orange][b]"Con' - just know that I'll always provide you with work, should you need it. Ain't no way a NetWatch kid of ours will walk this place alone, if I know 'em."[/b][/color] [color=Silver] The two sipped on their drinks for a while, once Norman had ordered his own. Conrad took his vodka and poured it from the glass the diner had offered straight into his flask, for later-keepings. He was disappointed by the lack of a gig given to him that early afternoon but he couldn't have exactly chosen what he begged for. But then, Conrad took a step from the shell and posed a question toward his old colleague - and the surprise brandished a smile upon Norman's greyed face.[/color] [color=B7CC5E][b]"Any word on Najee?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]There wasn't much good news to bear, but the shift to querying for an old ally was beyond the norm for Conrad.[/color] [color=Orange][b]"All dust and echoes, kid. Don't worry, I'll be lettin' you know the moment somethin' comes up on my scopes."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He then leaned forward and flickered out a cigarette, smoking it where he sat. He smiled that same old crooked smile and gave a guttural chuckle, winking at Conrad as he changed his tune. He dabbed the ash straight onto the table. The eye of a waitress caught his act but, upon seeing Norman, she withheld the desire to scold him. Then, he made for a sweet-tongue as he made for business talk.[/color] [color=Orange][b]"Oh, Con', about that white lie I made to get you here..."[/b][/color] [color=B7CC5E][b]"What about it?"[/b][/color] [color=Orange][b]"Might've lied about lying - I gotcha a gig. Another fixer to meet, just to vet and all that, y'hear?"[/b][/color] [color=B7CC5E][b]"You serious?"[/b][/color] [color=Orange][b]"All true. Someone in the Afterlife. You might know her, you might not. But don't make a fool of yourself in front, might be big pay on the line, kid."[/b][/color]