Well, actually, just two of them.
"You looking to expand into real estate, boss?" Even now, in one of the dark alleys of South Sacramento, Robinson's playful attitude is at work. His shivering voice betrays the man's real state of mind, however: he's uncertain of the purpose of this sudden meeting, trying to conceal fear with jokes. Even Friday, the resolute street urchin that has followed him everywhere for years, looks shaken. They glance at each other, unsure of what to do next.
"No. And by now you should really know better than to call me that" It was true, the title irritated Longstreet. It was like an itch you cannot hope to ever scratch.
Of course, he could be more forthcoming. Come up with lies and half-truths about why does he need information about two very specific locations and needs it now. But he is in no mood for courtesy and decided to go with the unspoken 'or else' attitude. At least, he is trying to convince himself it's a matter of mood and not something more deep-seated.
"So... Roseville and Old Maitland Junkyard, huh?" It's Friday this time, using up what's left of his courage in this monstrous being's presence "Anything specific you want us to look for?"
There was silence on the Bishop's side for a moment.
"Just keep your eyes peeled for danger. Entrances, exits... people hanging around" To be honest, he didn't know what to expect, and so didn't know what to ask of the pair. It wouldn't be wise to order them to dig in too deeply, lest they'd likely fall prey to the resident vampires, alerting the Brood forces in the city "Oh, and before I forget... here's a little something. For services rendered" There's a smile, intended to be friendly but coming off as anything but when Longstreet hands out some financial compensation to his agents. It's practical, of course, to give them a little more incentive. It's also the... humane thing to do.
They part ways with no further words.
Junkyard
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