{{
`${userDetail.user.displayName}${userDetail.user.cachedBungieGlobalDisplayNameCode ? `#${standardizeBungieGlobalCode(userDetail.user.cachedBungieGlobalDisplayNameCode)}` : ""}`}}
{{getUserClans()}}
8/5/2015 8:44:37 PM
1
"Give me Rabbit's number," Markov says, watching the conspiratorial checker. "Do those random people have any names?"
[i]Working for people I didn't know for uncertain gain. It sounded like the perfect way to come down with a nasty case of the deads.[/i]
English
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"Yeah," he says, and uploads a notification and comm code to your Tac-Pad. "And the randoms have names, just don't know 'em."
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The man looks at his Tac-Pad and nods. "Who would know the names?" he inquires.
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"No one except themselves and their friends. Go look for them and have a little chat." ((Talk to the other Cyberpunks.))
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"Thanks," Gregori says simply. He steps out into the cold and the wet, leaving only a small puddle behind him. His steps slosh as he walks away, and his thoughts become as dreary as the rain that's choking the city. (( End. Thanks for a great first go! ))
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Edited by HickoryHamMike: 8/5/2015 11:44:08 PM((No, it was all you, man. Love your noire-esque narrations!))
