[ There's a man in the corner. He's been there a while, maybe. It's hard to tell; he doesn't make much noise. He sits with his feet propped on a chair, holds a datapad in one (metal, armored maybe?) hand, occasionally swipes with the other to turn the page, doesn't do much stand out.
At least, not until she lights her cigarette, but although it's the light that catches his attention, the can of Coke is what holds it. Such a simple thing. He doesn't move, but nods to her. ]
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At least, not until she lights her cigarette, but although it's the light that catches his attention, the can of Coke is what holds it. Such a simple thing. He doesn't move, but nods to her. ]
Care to trade?