[ Vasquez watches the party idly, still with his hand on Faraday's shoulder as he sips at his wine. He's not trying to actively get on Faraday's nerves for now; really, the absent contact comes naturally to him, in their odd, tenuous peace. ]
Not our sort of people, cariño.
[ Because Vasquez wouldn't be caught dead at one of these places on his downtime. Only his training with Statesman keeps him at ease here.
He comes from little, and his interests haven't changed much, even with access to the lavish perks of his job.
On the other end of the bug, the smalltalk continues. It's the same boring chitchat, where the folks involved somehow manage to use so many words and still say nothing at all. It's all normal, uninteresting, until—
no subject
Not our sort of people, cariño.
[ Because Vasquez wouldn't be caught dead at one of these places on his downtime. Only his training with Statesman keeps him at ease here.
He comes from little, and his interests haven't changed much, even with access to the lavish perks of his job.
On the other end of the bug, the smalltalk continues. It's the same boring chitchat, where the folks involved somehow manage to use so many words and still say nothing at all. It's all normal, uninteresting, until—
"The hound walks at midnight." ]