Snippet #2589249

"The beautiful weather o'cour- balls to this- I'm here for the war, we're all bloody here for the war, name me a person who's not bloody here for the war," She chugged half her soykaf in one breath. "Amazes me you'd even feel the need to ask. 'OOO, look at this tattoo-and-scar covered dwarf, sittin' alone in a war zone, markin' on a map o' Berlin with physical paper and pencil rather than the extranet like a normal person. I wonder what she's here for!'"

Her clearly perfect impersonation of Eris done, Redcap huffed and leaned back against the bar. "And who admits to bein' a runner's daughter so soon after meeting someone? I get this is an anarchist zone, but that still seems somethin' you'd want to keep quiet. For all you know I could be corporate. For all I know, you could be corporate. For all either of us know, this guy could be corporate." She gestured vaguely to the Turk. She was quiet for a moment, staring at Eris. Then she offered her hand in what might've been resignation. "I'm Redcap, might've heard o' me. I've been in Germany maybe a decade? Witch, rumoured blood mage, makes a crap load o' unique witchy reagents. Not so much now, though, since some arse stole my truck, but there you go. Glad to meet you. Nice drone."

She ceased rambling and took another drink from her soykaf. Admittedly, she may have lost her senses a bit just then, she knew. The stress of losing her truck (and attached lab) must've finally gotten to her. She doubted there was any real danger in talking so openly, anyway. She'd never really liked all the hush-hush secrety bush-beating drek runners normally used (it reminded her too much of home) so it felt kind of nice to just spout of like that. She thought it best to keep a hand on her knife, though. Just in case.