07-01-2015, 08:34 PM
Koloman smirked and shrugged, "Never left the CCD's borders honestly. Africa will be my first excursion into the lawless ruins of the old world."
He chuckled jokingly; he didn't quite buy into the common belief of how poor off the rest of the world was, contrary to what the daily news might have to say on the matter. As far as most folks seemed to think, the US was nothing more then an irradiated wasteland these days, not a fleck of grain to be found anywhere.
"You're in for a rude awakening, Koloman. Africa is about as bad as they say it is. Sure there's some nice parts, but what you've got in mind, you won't be seeing much of those."
A statement of fact, as far as Hood was concerned. He had seen and done some things in Africa most folks would consider truly terrifying in his time in Africa, the whole Ghul thing not included.
"You heard the lovely lady, John. I don't die in Africa, so what are you worrying about?"
Koloman flashed her a sly grin and wink; he was of course just goading John along again.
"Exactly. She said you don't die IN Africa. Cryptic prophecy bullshit. So maybe it means you don't die underground, 'in', Africa. Maybe you die standing on it. Or in the air above it. Off the coast maybe? You've read a book or two in your time. These things are open to some pretty wide interpretation. Or maybe you get wounded there, and evac'd to a CCD hospital and die there."
He'd had his fill of prophecies and riddles with the Atharim to know to pick out the little details. Plus he'd read a book or two in his time too. They always ended up screwing folks over with those stupid prophecies.
Koloman chuckled and waved John off, then quirked an eyebrow as Claire put her digits on the tabletop. Both men were used to women throwing themselves at their feet; the sorts of places they frequented when working, they stood out like sore thumbs to women used to suffering the attentions of rich sycophants and worthless playboy debutantes. Men who smelled of blood and cordite and sweat were a rare thing that turned more then a few heads.
That said, neither had actually expected anything of Claire's apparent interest. Waitresses were the type who knowingly led men along to get better tips. Koloman shrugged apologetically and glanced from Claire to John, "My flight leaves tomorrow evening. Would have left today, but I figured I may as well try to talk John here into coming with me."
John shrugged in return; "I know. Saw your bags were already packed."
"Did you break into my..."
"You left a spare key at the office, remember? Left it at your place for you."
White memorized Claire's info; he didn't need to write something like that down. She was interesting enough to be worth memorizing the number. "Maybe I'll take you up on the offer, Claire. Be interesting to learn how I'm going to clock out. And as for why you should stay in Moscow, well, sure I can think up a few reasons."
Those reasons of course were along the lines of economic security, pay wages, job opportunities, and the like. He was a very practical minded sort of man, and Moscow was the heart of the world these days.
He chuckled jokingly; he didn't quite buy into the common belief of how poor off the rest of the world was, contrary to what the daily news might have to say on the matter. As far as most folks seemed to think, the US was nothing more then an irradiated wasteland these days, not a fleck of grain to be found anywhere.
"You're in for a rude awakening, Koloman. Africa is about as bad as they say it is. Sure there's some nice parts, but what you've got in mind, you won't be seeing much of those."
A statement of fact, as far as Hood was concerned. He had seen and done some things in Africa most folks would consider truly terrifying in his time in Africa, the whole Ghul thing not included.
"You heard the lovely lady, John. I don't die in Africa, so what are you worrying about?"
Koloman flashed her a sly grin and wink; he was of course just goading John along again.
"Exactly. She said you don't die IN Africa. Cryptic prophecy bullshit. So maybe it means you don't die underground, 'in', Africa. Maybe you die standing on it. Or in the air above it. Off the coast maybe? You've read a book or two in your time. These things are open to some pretty wide interpretation. Or maybe you get wounded there, and evac'd to a CCD hospital and die there."
He'd had his fill of prophecies and riddles with the Atharim to know to pick out the little details. Plus he'd read a book or two in his time too. They always ended up screwing folks over with those stupid prophecies.
Koloman chuckled and waved John off, then quirked an eyebrow as Claire put her digits on the tabletop. Both men were used to women throwing themselves at their feet; the sorts of places they frequented when working, they stood out like sore thumbs to women used to suffering the attentions of rich sycophants and worthless playboy debutantes. Men who smelled of blood and cordite and sweat were a rare thing that turned more then a few heads.
That said, neither had actually expected anything of Claire's apparent interest. Waitresses were the type who knowingly led men along to get better tips. Koloman shrugged apologetically and glanced from Claire to John, "My flight leaves tomorrow evening. Would have left today, but I figured I may as well try to talk John here into coming with me."
John shrugged in return; "I know. Saw your bags were already packed."
"Did you break into my..."
"You left a spare key at the office, remember? Left it at your place for you."
White memorized Claire's info; he didn't need to write something like that down. She was interesting enough to be worth memorizing the number. "Maybe I'll take you up on the offer, Claire. Be interesting to learn how I'm going to clock out. And as for why you should stay in Moscow, well, sure I can think up a few reasons."
Those reasons of course were along the lines of economic security, pay wages, job opportunities, and the like. He was a very practical minded sort of man, and Moscow was the heart of the world these days.