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[ yo what's up, Omega. York is in a shiny brand-new suit of armor, bought right in Omega, rather than her usual clunky old Freelancer armor. It's a hell of a lot sleeker than what she used to wear, that's for sure, and she looks pretty damned pleased about it.

But not just about the armor. York's grinning for an entirely new reason today. ]

Everybody settling in all right? Good, 'cause I've got some good news for the thirsty crowd. I just got myself a new job at a bar here in Zeta District, servin' drinks. And this weekend we've got an extended happy hour special goin' on, so if you're looking for a drink, then I highly suggest hauling your ass over to The Quad. I might even slip you a free drink for the trouble.

[ She actually winks, grinning and showing teeth. She tosses her hair out of her face with a quick shake of her head. ]

'Course, if you're more interested in the home security market, I'm still available for installs and upgrades. But I figured it was time to move on up in the job market. Besides, I mix one hell of a Dirty Shirley.

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Unfair, low blow!

[ He winces at himself for making that pun. ]

C'mon, York, how am I ever gonna learn to be a responsible drinker if I'm not instructed by a responsible professional?

Whoa, whoa, let's not throw about words like responsible so freely. Cool your jets, kid. Come back when you've got a few chest hairs and you can match me shot for shot.

[ good luck with that, marco ]

Ugh, if this isn't age discrimination, I don't know what is. Bet you totally drank with the other version of me all the time. But fine, whatever.

[ Marco's pouting a little unreasonably hard, but it's 80% exaggeration. He's already trying to find another approach.

And he does. At some nebulous point in the future, he swings by the Quad; the delivery boy uniform, he's found, grants him almost unquestioned universal access to most places, and he elbows his way through the crowd to slide a warm, flat, aromatic box onto the bar in front of York. The bright smile on his face contains not an ounce of deceit. ]

Yo yo! A present, to celebrate your recent fortune and prosperity.

[ For a little while, she thinks he's mercifully dropped it. She'd really hate to have to teach the kid a lesson. Of course, then he waltzes right into her bar and drops the pizza box right on the bar. Come on, Marco. Are you really going for food bribery here.

She cocks an eyebrow at him, resting one elbow on the bar. ]

Didn't know you were the gifting type. Besides, aren't you on the clock right now, kiddo?

There's a lot you don't know about me, York.

[ He makes what he would self-describe as a mysterious smile, but probably just makes him look like a dork. Since she hasn't touched the box yet, he takes the liberty of cracking it open himself, revealing a bacon and pepper topped pizza that's only a little bit squished from rattling around on its way over. ]

Anyway, my shift just ended. This came off the discard pile, 'cause someone put peppers in it by accident and who in their right mind wants any vegetables on their pizza?

So you brought me trash? Aw, Marco, I'm flattered.

[ York rolls her eyes at him, but it's good-natured. She eyes the pizza -- okay, okay, York won't ever turn down free pizza -- but she doesn't touch it yet. It's obvious he's not planning on leaving any time soon, too. York lets out a sort of rueful sigh, shaking her head. ]

Well, might as well eat it while it's hot. Help yourself, if you wanna pick off the veggies. You want a soda or somethin'?

"Trash"? York, I'm hurt! You think I'm the sorta person who would bring someone trash as a present? This pizza's only unwanted, not inedible. I'm doing a public service by preventing food waste and sharing with you the pleasure of knowing that we're taking advantage of an otherwise unfortunate situation.

[ Marco grabs his heart in mock despair, but it only takes a moment of smelling the pizza before he snaps out of it and promptly starts picking peppers off one of the slices. ]

Is this a Coke or a Pepsi establishment?

[ York just "mmhmms" along with Marco's protest, wearing an amused grin. Marco's imaginative excuses never fail to entertain, that's for sure. ]

Unfortunately, neither. We're a little far from home for the Earth name brands to matter. Nova Cola's pretty close to Coke, though.

[ Unless, of course, he came here to get something a little stronger. Because this is a bar. York picks up one of the slices of pizza and takes a bite, peppers and all, but she casts a glance toward the back of the bar, to the small door with the employees-only sign. Her boss probably wouldn't appreciate her munching on pizza in the bar with a 13 year old kid, so it's a good thing he's out for a while. ]

Anyone here asks you, you're still on duty.

Ugh, 'almost' Coke might as well be Pepsi. [ This is a holy war, and York just declared herself on the wrong side. ] But you take what you can get, huh? Can you at least put it in one of those short glasses with some ice cubes. You know, like. Scotch on the rocks.

[ He bites into his mutilated slice with a smile. No, he's not actually asking for booze, this is just for appearances, right? ]

[ god marco you're adorable cut that right out ]

Yeah, 'cause you look like you know about scotch.

[ She finishes her first piece of pizza and pours him the drink as requested, because hey, she did feel kind of bad shooting him down about the whole booze thing. Not that she regrets it, but hey, she was thirteen once, too. Ah, fond memories of using a bent screwdriver and a mangled paperclip to pick the lock on her dad's liquor cabinet. ]

So how's the pizza delivery boy business lately?

I know plenty about scotch, thank you very much. [ He picks up the glass and swills it around a little, then sniffs it gently before taking a tiny sip. Of course, since it's a carbonated beverage and not actually scotch, it just fizzes a little and also makes him look kind of silly. ] It's the drink of choice for brooding, washed-out former secret agents who no longer know what to do with themselves after getting forcibly retired from their gigs.

[ yes marco you nurse your coke on the rocks like a man ]

I think I'm really not cut out for this whole pizza running thing. You know what my delivery experience was before I got here? I'd call up a pizza place and they would send pizza to me, not the other way around. I wonder if I could like subcontract the actual delivery part and just take a cut of pay for organizing other people to move shit around for me.

What about a brooding, washed-out former secret agent who was pretty happy to quit the gig?

[ York gives him an amused grin, and it occurs to her that he's never really asked her what she does. Or did, before she became The Quad's only human bartender. He probably just assumed she was some kind of soldier, which, honestly, isn't all that far off the mark anyway. ]

Sounds like you're destined for middle management, kiddo.

[ Whoosh goes the sound of York's self-reference going over Marco's head. He's only nosy sometimes, and York hasn't made him want to pry into her personal life yet. ]

The ones who quit on their own? I dunno, they probably shoot tequilla or something. But you never just up and walk off, 'cause the Circus always finds you in the end. That much I know for sure. [ He nods sagely, taking another sip from the glass like he thought he was a grizzled old veteran. ]

But I don't think I really have the heart for middle management. That means there's like, other people above me, and I don't think I could live with the thought of helping other people make more money when I should be making it for myself. The lone billionaire sounds good. Get a bunch of investments rolling that just generate cash on their own, while I sit next to my pool and sip cocktails with hot babes. What do you think my prospects are for that here?

[ jesus christ marco you're too adorable for your own good it's a good thing york isn't drinking or she'd have already started doing embarrassing shit like ruffling your hair ]

I'd say you're gonna have a tough time finding a reputable investment broker in this town. You might have to stick it out at the pizza place a little longer if you're aiming for billionairehood.

Are you kidding me? One pizza at a time? I make an average of like a credit per delivery because no one on this rock believes in tipping like a reasonable person. What's the point in having money if you aren't going to share it with your fellow man? [ Way to switch from greedy money-grubbing billionaire mode to being horribly socialist, Marco. ] Anyway, who says I need a reputable investment broker? I just need a good one. He can have a bad rep so long as he's good at juggling money.

[ He eyes the other patrons, as if one of them was likely to be just the guy he's looking for. Of course, they probably don't appreciate being eyed by the delivery boy talking big shit at the bar. ]

Yeah, except you might never even see a cent of your own money.

[ York takes a break from eating pizza to dry a few glasses, looking at Marco thoughtfully. Omega isn't an easy place to live, but it's a hell of a lot harder if you're only thirteen. ]

Y'know, workin' in a place like this, I hear a lot of talk. If I hear anything about a decent job, I'll give you a heads up. Might even have the odd job for you here and there myself.

[ After all, she's still got a good amount of cash stashed away from her and Joker's security racket, and this bartending job pays pretty decently. And Marco's smart and he might even be good with his hands. ]

If someone walks off with all of my money, imma pop a cap in his ass.

[ He tosses back the rest of his drink and slides the empty glass down towards York---except it only makes it halfway there before spinning to a stop. Oops. At least he didn't overshoot. ]

Anyway, I'd love to get out of this stupid pizza gig. Want me to leave my CV with you? I've got a list of high scores and speed run records the length of this bar.

Yeah, I ever want a challenge in Time Crisis, I'll come to you. Wash is a crack shot with a real gun, but you hand him one made of plastic and it might as well be rocket science.

[ Okay, okay, so she's exaggerating a little. Wash isn't that bad, and last time they'd played he'd beaten her. Of course, as far as York's concerned, that was because of her bad eye. ]

I'll let you know if anything comes up. Stick with the pizza gig for now. Besides, the fringe benefits aren't too bad.

[ She puts away the dirty glass and picks up another slice of pizza, shooting a grin his way. ]

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