"Good." Cash, he could handle. Checks, he wasn't sure just yet. But he nodded - and the next day, he found out.
Wearing two pairs of socks and Clark's steel-toed boots, hair pulled back into a low, short stub of a ponytail, he showed up at work and started asking questions. Cash payments, every week until banks came back up, and that looked like a while. So when he left work, though he was covered in a sheen of sweat, he didn't have a bundle of money for pay, but he did have a date when he would get paid.
A glance to the clock told him it was four. He had an hour and a half to get everything done. And that gave him the time to go get his weapons cache, spend a bit more of his savings on a sleeve for his arm so he could wear T-shirts, and then a quick trip to the Chinese restaurant to get their food.
That was where he learned he didn't only read Chinese - he spoke it. The owners spoke to him, smiling, as he explained that he needed one order of General Tso's chicken, then something vegetarian for his friend, and something for himself, and he couldn't remember if he'd eaten anything Chinese or not.
He had two big bags in his left hand when he left, and he stored their contents in the oven when he got back to the apartment. Fifteen after five. That left him just enough time to shower.
no subject
Wearing two pairs of socks and Clark's steel-toed boots, hair pulled back into a low, short stub of a ponytail, he showed up at work and started asking questions. Cash payments, every week until banks came back up, and that looked like a while. So when he left work, though he was covered in a sheen of sweat, he didn't have a bundle of money for pay, but he did have a date when he would get paid.
A glance to the clock told him it was four. He had an hour and a half to get everything done. And that gave him the time to go get his weapons cache, spend a bit more of his savings on a sleeve for his arm so he could wear T-shirts, and then a quick trip to the Chinese restaurant to get their food.
That was where he learned he didn't only read Chinese - he spoke it. The owners spoke to him, smiling, as he explained that he needed one order of General Tso's chicken, then something vegetarian for his friend, and something for himself, and he couldn't remember if he'd eaten anything Chinese or not.
He had two big bags in his left hand when he left, and he stored their contents in the oven when he got back to the apartment. Fifteen after five. That left him just enough time to shower.