Snippet #2535901

Hieronymus looked out from behind the wall of the kitchen, with another sandwich in his mouth. He saw the three come in, but didn't see their armbands. Welp, that was unfortunate. Hieronymus took the sandwich out of his mouth with one hand, and his other hand prepared to aim the nail-gun. He moved from cover, and then took aim with his one hand. That was, before he saw the red armbands.

There were two women, and 1 man. One woman was blonde, and lithe. She probably would do well in this kind of thing. She was composed, and professional, it seemed. Maybe she was an assassin or a soldier. The big guy holding the sledgehammer was scarier than either of his companions, but the way he failed at spinning the sledgehammer had a disarming effect on Hieronymus. He'd be careful around this guy, just as much as he would be around any other giant criminal. Well, whatever. The last one in the band was a girl with brown hair, and a cooking spit. She looked uncomfortable, to say the least. Well, who wouldn't be? Especially since she was on the criminal side.

Hieronymus lowered the gun upon seeing all three of them. His gaze remained on them, ready to act if they did anything.

"My name is Hieronymus, and would any of you like some coffee? There's some in the kitchen."

Hieronymus was never very good with people. He barely spoke, and had very few acquaintances. When he was a trader, he was not the leader of the trading company he worked for. He tended to just help them crunch numbers when they didn't have a calculator. Or repair their things, or make some goods that they could use to make some areas livable again. For instance, a machine that could produce electricity from air. And not by spinning a turbine, but by taking the latent electrical potential of air, and harnessing it when the air was pushed into the device's surface. Aesthetically, it looked like a sail for a boat. When he became a scientist, there was also less time to be friendly with others. He would go days without speaking to anyone, or weeks. After becoming a criminal, he didn't speak very much, even. Hieronymus quickly became nervous, and scratched the back of his head, a gesture he often made when he stopped to make a choice.

The entire time it took him to remember this, less than a second, he kept his eyes trained on the trio in front of him.