Error awoke that morning to the familiar sensation of a wicked hangover, grunting and rolling off the couch to hit the ground with a metallic thunk as he awkwardly caught himself with his cyberlimbs. His head was pounding with a migraine so bad he would swear he could feel his skull pulsating and squeezed his eyes shut to keep the light out.
"Where am I? What's going on? Who let the pixies build a fort in my brain? I can feel their jackhammers taking pieces out of my childhood." Error muttered in Russian, somehow still a little drunk. His eyes focused enough to spot the bottle of Poon Hound on the table and he quickly reached for it, hoping a little hair of the dog might relieve his problem. Sadly, the bottle was empty. He held it upside down and stuck out his tongue to catch a few errant drops. They burned a little going down.
"Bah, empty. I'll just have to buy another." He tossed the bottle against the wall and let it shatter, staggering to his feet and rubbing his eyes. He managed to focus enough to remember that dehydration was involved in hangovers, and moved towards the kitchen to drink out of the faucet like a dog.
He heard the pounding on the door and Hopeless responding, remembering English was a thing and taking a few moments to translate what was said to himself as he shut off the faucet, his headache already subsiding a little. Time to go.
Error looked down at himself and realized he was half naked, having slept in his boxers and a wife-beater the night before. He vaguely remembered taking off the suit as it got hotter in the night, and then Hopeless challenging him to a wrestling match or something. He chuckled a bit at that, but quickly went about collecting his things. He stashed his suit in his bag and pulled out a pair of less conspicuous clothes, simple jeans and a T-shirt for some Ork Rock band he was only vaguely familiar with, but his girlfriend was obsessed-
охуеть. Error swore, suddenly remembering he had a girlfriend. When was the last time he called her? He furrowed his brow and started counting off fingers.
охуеть! He swore again and pulled out his commlink, noticing a message from Dadlez that he immediately ignored in favor of calling up his girlfriend.
"Liliya, my dear! How are-" He began, but was cut off by a stream of expletives. Error flinched, holding the commlink away from his ear and yet still able to hear her quite clearly.
"Now, calm down, I wasn't gone that lon-" More swearing, more screaming. This was doing nothing for his headache.
"Well I'm calling you now, aren't I?" He replied flippantly.
"Alright, alright! I apologize! I'll make it up to you! Just stop screaming in my fucking ear, I've got a hangover." He knew he had messed up before he had even finished the sentence, and preemptively held the commlink at arm's length and covered it in his hands as she started screaming at him. He could feel the comm vibrating in his fingers and could still hear every slur clearly even with the muffling of his palms. Finally, after a few seconds, he couldn't hear her anymore and returned the comm to his ear, wondering if she had stopped or simply blown out his speakers.
"I'm sorry. Truly, I am." He tried his best to sound sincere.
"...What?...Oh, you saw that, did you?....No...No. You shouldn't watch that drivel...I'm fine. Don't worry...What? The cops?....Were you talking to the police about me? Don't tell them anything, Liliya! You don't know me. No. No...Stop that, I'm not..." He sighed, rubbing his eyes for a moment.
"I'll be home later. I still have a job to do. The cops don't know about my place, right? That apartment is under a fake name....Okay, good. If they ask you anything say we broke up months ago, I don't want you dragged into this. You haven't heard from me. Alright...Alright. Love you too." With a sigh Error hung up, putting the comm in his pocket and packing up the rest of his gear.
He was on autopilot for the rest of the morning, tossing his bag into his Americar and driving the group to meet this Dr. Ken person, all the while wondering what his next move should be. He was still kicking himself for grabbing his rifle but forgetting his mask. He should not have started shooting while his face was clearly visible, a mistake he wasn't planning to repeat. He'd need to pick up some new armor, though. He had to agree with Hopeless, he stood out too much in his suit.
he extends his hand to Error, "I'm Ken. Good to meet you."
Error comes out of his thoughts long enough to realize he's being addressed, accepting Ken's hand in a firm grip and giving it a polite shake.
"Error." He says in introduction. He suddenly remembered the message from Dadlez and pulled out his comm to check it while Hopeless and Dr. Ken talked.
>>Incoming Message
>>Sender: Dadlez
>>Message: Additional comms clear? Unfortunate about Breeze. Can job still be completed on schedule?
>>End Message
He frowned, not sure how to respond, but knowing he had already taken far too long to reply. This new situation with the airport would certainly complicate matters, and he wasn't sure how that would affect their schedule.
>>Forward Message
>>To: Hopeless, Bookworm
>>Message: Can we complete on schedule?
>>{Forwarded Message}
