( said cigarette is lifted back towards his mouth, lips pulling a drag from it before shakily exhaling )
goro. nice to meet you, choom.
i wouldn’t thank arasaka even if they pissed on me while i was on fucking fire. i’ve seen what they have done to my neighborhood, to my +
/ my beloved boyfriend always chooses the corpo life path 💔 hurts my heart every time i remember that 💔💔💔
i can afford all the help i need, hermano. el capitán aint broke!
( he takes care to not dirty his sleeve when wiping blood away from the corner of his mouth after he turns back around )
there’s just no savin’ me unless i chrome out every part of me. i’d rather die ‘ganic. +
most of my people can’t afford to not become a corpse.
( he feels another cough fighting its way out, and turns around so the other man won’t see the heavier splatter of blood that comes out )
a year, maybe more. i don’t keep track, there are more important things.
( a tired look flashes in his eyes, and for a moment he looks much older than he actually is )
this is santo domingo. your lungs hurt? smoke a cigarette. you cough? smoke another cigarette. cheaper than beggin’ suits for actual medicine.
( he straightens his back when he notices he has an audience, hand rubbing against his shorts(?) to wipe the blood off )
thiiis? no, choom. this is my medicine, no need for a doctor! just got something in my throat, that’s all. iiit’s allergy season!
( taking a llllllong drag from a cigarette. ah — coughing violently, hand covering his mouth to catch specks of red before they can hit his shoes )
that’s my king! no point in worryin’ about you, huh? night city’s your bitch, i should be worryin’ about everyone else.
always knew he does stupid shit on his gigs. i can’t complain, whatever gets the job done and makes my clients happy.
plan d, for now.
