New Vegas: Blood Ties

Mark says nothing, instead he keeps his eyes fixed on hers, examining them, then slowly extends his hand and shakes hands with her.
 
Yasmin held his gaze, unblinking. She wasn’t going to waver and give even the slightest hint of weakness. After he took her hand she matched his grip in the shake then smiled. “Thanks for joining. Now if you don’t mind, I need to go get our coordinates and caps.” She turned to look at the rest of the group and raised her voice so they could all here. “If I don’t see any of you again tonight, I want to meet in the foyer at 7am. We can head off from there.”

She turned and walked away from them towards the door that lead deeper into Gamorrah and the woman standing there shuffling cards. As Yasmin got closer the woman looked up and smiled, joining her through the door way.
“Nev.” Yasmin nodded to her.
“Cousin. So I take it when you stormed off before you went and got that lot? I take it you plan on finding him.”
Yasmin scowled. “Of course I do. He needs me. I’m not leaving him out there to rot.”
Nevra frowned as they headed back stage. “You know there’s a chance that-“ She was cut off by Yasmin rounding on her.
“I love you Nevra, but say it and I swear I’ll break your fucking nose.”
The silence bubbled between them with tension and Nevra saw actual fear deep down in her cousins eyes. “I…you’re right. He’s out there.”
They turned and kept walking without another word of it, but the implications of what Nevra was about to stay still clung to them. They went behind the curtain and Yasmin dug around in the lockers there for some leather.
“Is the usual ok? All I need is 250 at most.” She pulled out the bondage gear and looked at it in disgust. “I’d be much better gabmling. Being a pathetic addict is less humiliating.”
Nevra giggled. “Ah, but you have terrible luck my dear. And you can’t charm cards the way you charm men. Three hours for 250 caps, I’ll go tell Sal. He’ll be happy to see you up there again.”
Yasmin gagged and started undressing. “Please, the less I think about this, the better.”
“Just don’t shoot up before you go on to numb it. Nobody likes a stripper with blood leaking out of her arm.” Nevra called as she headed back out to inform the boss man and get her cousin’s caps for her.

Yasmin was thankful for the lack of mirrors backstage. The sight of herself squeezed into the bondage gear they supplied for their dancers was more than she could handle. But a body like hers, or a chest like hers at least, was popular among the patrons, so when she degraded herself, she got paid well by the Omertas. Plus being the cousin of one of their best card dealers made her almost part of them.
She struggled once more with the skimpy band of leather across her chest. She was practically spilling out of it. She growled the grabbed some duct tape. “I’ll fix you…” she muttered while putting tape over her nipples then sticking the leather to it. Victorious, she pulled her hair out of its ponytail to cover the plasma scar on her neck. Scar tissue was a turn off, apparently. ~Not that the rest of me is any better.~ She thought bitterly looking at, what wasn’t obscured by her breasts, her body. The bruises looked ugly, but there was nothing she could do.
She walked out from the seedy red curtain and a small chorus of whistles came out from the gamblers and drunks. She forced herself not to roll her eyes, walked over to the pole of the far left and started dancing with it, setting a vacant smile on her face and letting her mind wander far out of her body.
 
Brad decided to get out of the smokey club. He wandered deeper into gomorrah and came across a door. He opened it and couldn't believe what he saw.
"What the fuck?!?"
The beautiful woman he just tried to hit on was on stage, basically selling her soul. It was just too much for him. He ran out of gomorrah, but he didn't know where to go. Eventually, he settled down on the bench he was on earler. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't accept money from her, knowing where it came from. Maybe this "job" was a set up. Maybe if he went back and took the job, she'd lead them to a bunch of omerta's with big guns and be forced into sexual slavery and have to wear those terrible bonds his whole life. Or maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him. Maybe the girl onstage just looked a little like her.
"Aw, who am I kidding? it was her up there. And to think I actually considered asking her out."
Seeing that spectacle-along with a little too much scotch-was making Brad not think straight.
"I guess I'll just go tell Derick to take me back to Red Rock."
 
The Stranger had watched the group closely, he had watched the trooper shake hands with the woman and had watched them disperse. He had noticed their discreet conversation and still needed closure. He got up to see if he could catch one of the group and have a "talk" with them. He headed down to the stage to see if any of the mercenaries had gone down for a show. He looked and saw the woman from the bar on stage, not so different from the other strippers that were so common in the casino.

He also noticed the kid from the bar, and his expression when he saw his comrade on stage. His reaction indicated that this was new to him. A fact that made it all the more interesting as to what the loose collection of mercenaries, a ranger, and an NCR trooper had to discuss.

He walked up to the kid,
"Quite a piece of work, isn't she?"
He said it cautiously, testing the waters.
 
Brad completly ignored him and walked over to Derick.
"I'm going home. Ceaser or not, if I stay here any longer I think my scotch'll come back up."
Brad grabbed his guns from the front desk and headed for the vegas gate.
Derick was confused. What made him change his mind in all of 2 minutes?
 
The Stranger stood there, a little dismayed at being completely ignored by this... kid. The desire to know what they were discussing was begining to fester in his mind and he needed to quell his curiousity. He ran a hand down his face and walked back up to the bar and took a seat. He ordered a bottle of whiskey and sighed as he took the first burning sip. It was going to be a long night...
 
Yasmin sighed to herself as walked away from the pole and over to the nearest other dance and started dancing with her. She hated this, but company made it not so bad. She looked at the girl with the pale skin and sunken eyes.

"You think this is worth it?"

The other dancer smiled and shook her head. "Not really, but I don't have a choice. You?"

Yasmin grimaced. "Right now, I don't have much of one either."
 
Tom chuckled, it had been a long time somebody acknowledged his adventures in a long time, and by that they meant it, instead of asking small-talk, "Never been to Point Lookout, I never was one for fun n' games, but yeah i've been to the Pitt, decades ago it was set up by a ex-brotherhood of steel member, I can't remember his name now, but him and his slavers kept a tight hold over a large proportion of slaves, and after the slaves tried to revolt, the leader made sure he made the Pitt a better place, I swear when I went there one and a bit years ago he was actually doing a good job, quite alot the slavers were not even slavers anymore, just average joe's working at bars and shops, some where even teachers, it surprised me so much couldn't get to sleep that night".

Tom never was one for a long description, he liked to keep things short. But this Carob interested him, and Tom was going to find out what made him...retire from his job as a ranger. "Hey carib, do you know how much the rooms are in this joint, i'm getting tired", Tom pointed at the large clock that symbolised the time being, quarter past eleven. Time had flown by, probably because Tom wasn't used to having that many people round him in so many years.
 
"See you around. And thanks for the info." Carib tucked away the worn old post card with the Point LookOut Ferris Wheel into his jacket. Fun and games, Carib thought. He liked games, even if it was finding obscure treasure or just perhaps finding a place to call his own. He'd figured he was the type to spend his time in retirement wandering and finding wars to fight. He learned from old maps there was a place called DC that was the throne head of this Continent at one time and David and Tom both told him that the Brotherhood and the Super Mutants had been hacking it out. It also made him wonder had the Master's broken army really journeyed that far to escape the Vault Dweller.

Wonders never cease.

He watched Tom head after the curious stranger who walked outside. The man had been wearing revolvers on his hips and hadn't even been stopped. Interesting.

Turning towards the stage, Carib saw a sight that gave him a crooked smile and he ordered another Nuka-Cola for good measure. He was thinking about Yasmin, but not in a way a man thinks of a woman he wishes to bed with or sire children with. He liked her in an altruistic manner, actually he saw her as his little sister. He'd never tell her that, and perhaps in time, when she gained his trust, he'd probably see her as his baby sister.

Carib was watching her closely. When you spent time as a Ranger, having enlisted at the age of sixteen, you noticed things. He had spent time as a Ranger instructor and he knew the look. Yasmin was clearly a fighter and judging by her gate and the slight and subtle wincing she had when she had come to talk to them, or even when she puffed on the cigarettes he offered; he could tell she been in a fight. More intriguing.

Carib took a gulp of Nuka-Cola and watched the display. Tom was a big boy and he wanted to check on his comrade Brad, whom, Carib should probably meet. Swearing under his breath, he decided to head outside for some air. If he saw Brad he'd strike a quick intro and probably slink off to Freeside to do some dark purging. The Nuka-Cola kept the whispering devil in his head at bay, but Carib needed to vent sometime soon. And he was sure for every mugger or thug he killed in the back allies of Freeside, someones son or daughter was staved from death or rape. He'd use his stealthboy he found. RobCo Stealthboys were neat gadgets and probably that was the reason he was hearing his Dark Passenger more clearly. True but it helped him do the dark deeds that were necessary.

Carrying his mask in hand, he headed towards the desk. Removing the Gomorrah Queen of Clubs card, they returned his items. They thanked him for coming to the Casino and one of the Omerta men gave him a card in the event he changed his mind about doing work for Big Sal. Carib didn't reply.
 
Seeing Carinb heading towards the desk he catches up with him "She's really decided to do this alright, highly motivated. Either she has some strong reason we don't know about or the loot is too damn good."

"I'm going to head to Mc Carran now to set things up, got a lot or preparing to do, tell her I'll meet you guys in Freeside near the King's, you have to go trough there on your way out of the strip anyway unless you take the monorail, wich you wont, so you can't miss me. See you in the morning."

Mark leaves early that night, no time for fun at the Gamorrah. He leaves Carib and the others to do as they please, no point in wasting more time when they were going to leave the next morning.

The quickest way to McCarran fortunately is the only way in and out of the strip for him, the monorail. Once on the base it's only a walk trough the concourse until he reaches the armoury.

Sergeant Contreras is sleeping on his chair. "ALARM! ALARM! Base is under attack! It's the Legion!"

Contraras almost falls to the floor. "Don't try to be funny Gonzalez, what do you want!"

"Listen, I have a little favor to ask of ya..."

"Oh no, man I don't want to raise suspicions, I have a nice set up here and..."

"Will you stop crying! I haven't even asked you yet! What the hell is the matter with you!"

"Alright, what is it?"

"Yeah, look, I need a few supplies for a deal I'm working on" Mark hands him a list that includes a marksman carbine, a light machine gun, explosives and enough supplies and ammunition to last a fire team in the field for a week.

Contreras looks at the list. "Well, it looks like quite a bunch of supplies for your usual patrol but I think we can supply you, just hand me the authorization signed by Hsu and I can start putting the stuff together."

"You see that's just the problem Contreras, we don't have an authorization"

"How the hell do you expect me to disappear all these supplies without an authorization. Boyd is already suspecting, she'll be all over me if she finds out about any of this!"

"Hey man I am about to put you into something very good and you are giving me problems, things are so screwed up that no one knows where the Legion lines are or where our lines are, you think someone is going to give a damn about these supplies? Now I have an untouched pre war military base full of pre war tech and relics and they're just waiting to be picked up, you're in?"

"Are you ok Gonzalez? What are you talking about? Are you sure you don't need to see Doctor Usanagi at the New Vegas Medical Clinic?"

"Hey Contreras, for crying out loud! That is a lousy stinking most awful stupid joke you pulled off! You don't want in this thing? You don't get in this thing! I cut you on everything, I don't need you, a machine gun and a few supplies I can pick up almost anywhere... schmuck!"

"Alright, alright, but this deal better be as good as you say or you are going down with me!"
 
Exiting the front gate, he stepped into Freeside. The Securitron detail there greeted him and told him to have a nice day. He ignored the tin-cans. He had no love for machines. They were... creepy.

Freeside was definitely a glaring contrast from the opulence of the Strip. No water fountains with half naked or drunk NCR soldiers on R&R, no dazzling lights. Just poverty and the stink of addicts. Seeing the main street, he decided to hang a left. Maybe in the dark allies, a man by himself might be a presentable mark for those seeking quick plunder.

Carib didn't have to wait long. Once behind the abandoned ruins, they came. Three of them. He didn't so much as see them first, but smell them. The carbine was slung behind his back and he already the scout knife and the tomahawk within easy reach. The smell of bad booze mixed with jet almost made Carib bring up his lunch.

When the first mugger came at him, with what looked like a rusting kitchen knife in the ice pick stab motion, Carib smiled. He was going to love this.

Using the edge of the blade to block, the scout knife cut deeply into the knife wielding hoodlum's unprotected wrist. The man began to scream and Carib followed by dropping the Tomahawk blade into the soft, unprotected crown of the thug's head. There was a soft thup sound, and the man fell aside, dead.

The Thugs paused and Carib took advantage: he flung the tomahawk at one thug in dark clothing and it hit the man on the right side of his chest. Not exactly where Carib wanted him, but close enough. The man went to his knee, and he wasn't getting up. He was gasping, "Oh---O-Oh god." He coughed up blood, his eyes wet with tears and surprise. Carib walked past him. Not a word. He left the tomahawk in the man's chest. He wanted to freak out the last man. He was in what looked to be Ranger Combat armor with a mask on.

Carib was enjoying this. Savoring it. The Dark Passenger wanted it all. Touching a device on his wrist band, the Ex-Ranger seemed to have vanished. The last thug was surprised, if not scarred. Carib kept walking up to him and whispered, "Run."

The Thug didn't need to be told twice. He ran, ran as fast as he could, screamed at the top of his lungs that a ghost was tearing people up in the streets. He swore in the back of his mind that he'd never rob, or steal or rape anyone again. Clean living from now on. He'd go to the Mormon Fort and ask the Followers of the Apocalypse to help him mend his way. He'd do chores, he'd care for the sick, he'd do anything.

They were noble promises and if Carib could read minds, he might have let the Thug go. But Carib wasn't a Psyker, he couldn't read minds. That's why he raised his silenced 10mm and aimed fairly high. It contained 10mm JHP handloads. He fired one shot and the man fell down limp. It hadn't been a clean headshot, but hit the base of the neck, crippling the thug from the shoulders down.

The man was dying, gurgling blood, but no one saw the shimmering mirage that grabbed him by the leg and dragged him back into the alley, no one saw him grab the dying and kneeling thug and drag him away. No one paid attention to the screams that followed after.

It was Freeside after all. Everyone was a King in their own right.
 
The Stranger sat, nursing his piss-warm whiskey. He had long since missed the other members of the party, but the woman... yes, the woman who had had the kid so pissed off over her apparent second profession, if he could only get a moment with her. As he ran it through his mind again and again, it seemed like his only hope for finding out why the Ranger was in Vegas. He would wait, even if it took all night.
 
Brad opened the gate, stepped out and looked into an allyway. He saw a man run out, randomly fall down, and it looked like something was dragging him, but he saw nothing.
"This has to be the weirdest day of my whole life."
 
His father had been right, under the moon light, blood did look black. The thugs were made examples of. Taking their slowly cooling corpses, he placed them in the dumpster. He was visible now, so he could be seen, but if anyone had seen his grisly work, they probably would have kept on walking. His mask was still on and his breathing had calmed now. The excitement was over, and with it, Carib was wondering what was happening to him?

He looked at his hands covered in blood and sighed. He'd clean up quick. Since he purged now he could head back to the Gomorrah and see who else in the crew he had to meet.

Taking what they had, which wasn't much. The knife thug had just a cheap kitchen knife bordering on rust; the worst that could have happen was tetanus. The second had a pool stick, some bottle caps. The one he had shot had some water on him, jet, a knife and a lighter. Carib took the lighter. It was plain, chrome and oddly enough it worked. He found this out by striking the flint. He flipped the top a few times, doing tricks one of his friends back in the unit did.

He pocketed it.

As he walked out, he noticed two children chasing a large rat. They looked hungry. But the rat was faster. Carib knew what had to be done.

He drew his silenced 10mm and shot it. He wasn't going for anything fancy, just a center of mass shot. It went down. The children were on it shortly after. The blonde haired boy smiled, "Thanks, Mister." He gave a nod and then a thumbs up. They both smiled and began to cut into the rat. One point of karma for the good guys.

Carib walked back to the North Gate that led into Vegas.

*****

Re-entering the Gomorrah had been easy. He turned in some weapons, not all. He kept his 10mm this time as well as his knife. The Omerta didn't exactly look like he had the keenest eye. It didn't matter, Carib was getting pretty good at holding out. Pretty soon, he'd be able to get C-4 and Detonator in, too. Not that he planned on demolishing this cesspool, but just in case.

Sitting at the bar, he was next to the newest addition to Yasmin's assortment of hired help.

Carib took off the mask and hailed the bartender for some Nuka-Cola and some squirrel on a stick. When the drink came, he raised it slightly to the new man, "Pleasant days and pleasant nights."
 
David finished his whiskey and decided to walk around. He came to brimstone, and seeing whores on the stage, a look of disgust on his face. The enclave were facists and genocidal maniacs, but they at least had some decency. He thought it was a disgrace that people did this for a living and that other people made them do this. Just then, he saw Brad run out. He followed him, but was interrupted by a a female whore literally throwing herself on him.

"Looking for a good time,baby?",She said, a smile on her face. He could tell from her face she was a drug addict.
David replied,"Not right now, but I'll see you later."
He left, hoping to see Brad, but he was nowhere to be seen. He made his way to freeside. He saw Brad staring at an empty street alley. He came up behind him and said,"Hey kid, did those whores being on that stage upset you or something? I'm sure its just a dayjob or something, she seems to focused to be a whore. I don't know why your so upset. Stuff like this has been going on here since pre-war. You've been here longer than me, so how your....wait, your one of those Great Khans aren't you?"
David expression softened and he said,"So what, you spend all your life with them, and now your exposed to a world bigger than red rock. I know the feeling, I used to live in a place called Raven Rock with some very bad people. I even have a tattoo."

David took off his jacket, and then his black T-shirt. On his back, a winged grim reaper, the words 1st Infantry Division, Alpha Squad above its head. Below it on a scroll of paper, were the words REAPER OF EDEN. He put his clothes back on, and said to Brad,"Thats all I'm telling you. And don't give up on that girl. A job like that has gotta be distressing, so she might need support. Failing that, you can always pay her."
He smiled and walked in the direction of mick and ralphs. He then turned a final time, and said,"In case your wondering how I found out you were a great khan, your boots are covered in red dust. Dosen't take a rocket scientist to find out where you came from."

David then left Brad and made his way to Mick and Ralphs. The Khan was the frist person years to see his tattoo, and he hoped he didn't ask anymore about it. David had done some bad things to earn it, and he didn't want to talk about it. He entered the shop, walking up to mick and ralphs."So boys", He said."Got anything new for me?"
Mick turned to him, and said,"Hey David, I got this US army kit designed for the Chinese marshlands. It comes with a combat knife, sleevless jacket. Pretty Much just some clothes, a couple of ration packs and a knife. How much are you offering for this?"
David replied,"I have 40 caps."
Mick butted in and said,"40 caps it is", and handed David the kit.

David left and looked at it. The knife was blunt, the ration packs were 200 years old and half eaten, and the jacket was a bit Tatty. He took off his jacket. The last remnant of his past life apart from his pistol, he threw it in a nearby oil drum fire. He put on the jacket, sheathed the knife and made his way back to gommorah. He had come for equipment and had ben scammed into a 200 year old piece of outdated equipment. The kit had probably come with combat armour, but it seemed mick had sold that. David just glad to be in something that wasn't going to get him killed by the NCR. He entered the strip and then Gommorah.
 
Tom covered his mouth with his hand as he coughed and then raised himself off of his chair and looked at the barman, "I'll have a room for the night", the barman threw some keys at him as Tom threw back 30 caps, Tom knew that wasn't the full amount, but the barman didn't have a problem with it. Tom walked away from the bar, all the while trying to avoid sluts and whores that would make his day worse.

Unfortunately Tom had to go through the Brimstone room to make it to his apartment for the night. Tom didn't raise his head as he walked through Brimstone, so he didn't get recognised by anyone, and he didn't have to see any strippers or prostitutes. Tom accidentally dropped a cap, as he knelt down to pick it up back up, out of the corner of his eye he had noticed the dancers. He looked at them for a couple of seconds and realised one of them was Yasmin, Tom didn't believe he was doing work with a hussy, he hoped she had a good sotry to explain it all to him later.

Tom trudged his legs up the stairs leading to his room. As he walked along the corridor, an Omerta thug walked past Tom, this was going to be fun, Tom had noticed earlier that the corridor carpet was loose. Tom moved his foot forward, but didn't bring it off the floor, this pulled the carpet over and the thug tripped down the stairs. Tom sniggered as he unlocked the door to his room.

After closing the door he pulled off what remained of his combat armour; one pauldron, and half a chest guard, and laid them on the floor, these simple provisions were held on by leather wrungs attached to rings on his under-jacket. Tom leaped onto the bed, not even to cover himself with the blanket, mostly because he didn't want to be under the covers that people fawning had been in.

Tom tried to get to sleep, but the noise from down below kept him awake, Tom got frustrated when he couldn't get to sleep. Just as he nodded off, he could hear people having sex next door, and in the other room opposite he could hear another man masturbating to said sex noises. Tom had a right mind to barge into each room and tell the to shut the fuck up, but Tom didn;t want imagine the horrible things that would happen if he done that.

Even though there were noises all around Tom managed to finally nod off at the time, 00:23, Tom would wake up at five o'clock, like clockwork, he happens every night, well it doesn't happen if Tom has one of his dreams, if he does he would probably wake up even earlier than usuall.
 
Yasmin, who was by now enjoying the quiet muttering with the slightly drugged dancer while lazily swaying their hips together, looked out briefly at the floor to see how crowded the place was and recognised the back of Tom, the man with the accent. Something like lead dropped in the recesses of her stomach. ~Fantastic. Now I need to travel with a man who has seen me wiggling on stage in bondage gear. Fuck.~
“What’s wrong, baby?” the other dancer cooed while shimmying down to the floor then back up again.
Yasmin pushed the eventual awkwardness from her mind and shrugged. “Nothing.” She said, and turned her back on the man waving some NCR cash at her. She had no interest in it, and though he could see most of her ass, at least she didn’t have to see his face. “Just wishing quick caps didn’t come at such a price.”
 
Dream

Tom was walking through an eerie wasteland, there didn't seem to be much life anywhere he noticed. What was odd was that he was wearing a perfect pristine set of Talon Company armour, which dazzled in the midday sun. As Tom walked over a hill he looked down at a house which appeared to be in the middle of nowhere, but it felt awfully familiar.

As he got closer to the house, a child ran out, and ran straight past Tom, not even noticing him, these sequences of events were starting to confuse Tom, were they his own memories or just a random idea conjured up by his unstable mind. As Tom reahced the front door, he touched the handle, barely feeling it. He pulled down on it and pushed the door open.

As he walked round the house, he couldn't hear anything other than his footsteps...and a clock ticking, but not prominetly, more of a background noise. As he walked up the stairs he could hear more disturbing noises, noises of panic, terror, screams, Tom ran up the stairs but what greeted him was an endless corridor. Tom checked room after room, but in each one there was nothing but a grandfather clock, but strangely the noises got louder in every room he went in.

Tom had made it to the end of the corridor, only to be greeted by an unmovable door. He budged it as much as possible, but it wouldn't move. Tom responed to this by kicking the door, it started to crumble, as if it had been infested with termites. He pushed the door aside, the noises were unbearably loud now. Tom tried to cover his ears but he couldn't do anything to stop them. He looked down and on the rug was a dead man, about middle aged, that had many of the same facial features as Tom had. Tom ran into what had appeared to be an en-suite bathroom, but inside disgusted him. There was a man in poor raider garments, sodomising a woman by a bathtub, Tom pulled out a pistol and started shooting the man, but nothing happened.

The man started cutting the womans throat, still fawning over her. Tom pulled his combat knife of his belt and started hacking at the raider who had now killed the woman he had been sodomising. The raider was dead. Tom blinked, then he looked down at the body of the woman, it was his mother.

End Dream

Tom had awoken in a cold sweat, he looked around his room, making sure nothing had actually happened, he looked over to the clock on the bedside table, only twenty minutes past one o'clock, this was going to be a long night.
 
David gave his knife and pistol to the guard. He made his way to lower brimstone. He sat down at one of the bars, and started drinking, not noticing Yasmine behind him. He felt too on edge to go to sleep, and he had rested at vault 21, so he didn't feel tired. He sat there, pondering on where the others where. He sighed and walked past the stage, not noticing Yasmine yet again. He then waited at the entrance for the others.
 
The Stranger's eyes widened as the very Ranger he had been looking for sat beside him. And when the Ranger lifted his drink to "Pleansant days, and pleasant nights" the Stranger made sure to look him in the eyes. The Ranger didn't show any signs of knowing exactly who he was sitting beside. It was the lack of recognition that allowed him to raise his glass and join the man's toast... and take his other hand off the butt of his revolver.
"To pleasant day, and pleasant nights. What brings a Ranger this far into Vegas? And a veteran to boot. Judging by your little ragtag group of soldiers, I think I can safely say you guys got something planned. If there's any room available for an old gunslinger, I might be interested."
He let out another sight and downed the last of his whiskey, waiting for the man's response.
 
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