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[doxing]

Getting comfortable, folks? I hope you're happy with the jobs you've been given at our raunchy local businesses ... I have some information coming your way next month with my first report for Backdoor Entry, you might be interested -

Do you want a sneak peek?

CAUGHT RED-HANDED
Bloody New Arrival Found with Foreign Contaminant on Clothes, Claims "It's Not Mine!"

PERVERSE ACTIVITY FORCING ELUVIO TO "HOLD IT IN"
Local Lavatory Expert Spotted Leaving Men's Washroom After Disturbing Sounds Overheard!

ELUVIO BOASTS STATE OF THE ART REVIVAL TECHNOLOGY
Unwilling Source States "Dead Back Home", the Impossible is Possible!

Let me know what you think since I'm open for suggestions ... Lately, have you seen anything downright dirty, delicious, or diabolical? Dish out the gossip and you'll get a nice reward

Hasta luego readers

Comments

[genice]

( her statement has him laughing; a brief, bright sound that ends with a smile more wry than anything else. )

Wouldn't that be a twist.

( there is no Russian Spy in this ship. (no, there is. his name is Makkachin. he spies for the nation of Friendliness, under a ranking system of "most and least likely to pet a dog.") )

Making too many presumptions tends to land me in trouble. ( which includes squinting at her drink even as she's offering it over; his has ended up being spicy, of all things, and nothing like a Moscow Mule. he supposes he's living the jest of his own words right now.

still, to hell with it. with the weight of Makkachin's head on his foot, Victor lifts his shoulders in a small sort of shrug. there's more they'll all need to focus on as the tolerated, somewhat integrated newbies aboard a ship of better integrated people, but that's what it's like as the new arrivals on any scene.

may as well try the weird and fun alcohols along the way. he nudges his own drink back toward Sombra, with the helpful clarification of: )

If you like spicy, then...

( go ahead. he tries to swoosh her drink, finds it reluctant to take to the motion, and takes a sip anyway. he's not sure what to make of it, running his tongue over the roof of his mouth after swallowing, twice, in reflex. end conclusion, as he passes her drink on back her way: )

Not bad, but nothing I'll be ordering on my own.

( flavour wise it's fine; the viscosity makes the sweet burn of it going down into almost something too drawn out. )

[doxing]

Vic, look at me. You think I don't like spicy? (spicy is the name of her game — and all junk food, junk food's its own flavour.

taking his drink, watching him sip at her own, she smirks around the rim of the glass and tries a mouthful. true to his word, it most definitely does have a kick to it and sombra raises a thin eyebrow at it. most of these drinks, she feels with some amount of giddiness, are going to be delicious. and she can't even tell anyone back home about them.

a swap of their drinks yet again, fingers alighting on the cup of viscous mucous (and that's very likely what it is, not that she's concerned so long as it does its job and she doesn't know about it)...)

Y'know, I think you're right on that one. I'm ordering yours next. This one's coating my throat like Nyquil.