Thomas Day
...Or Andrew Hopkins...
Thomas chuckled at the Major's Alien Bastards statement. "
Well, they already did once. We just came back. By the way, don't expect courtesy like mine once we get to Old Bones. I'm a rarity." They continued to walk for a short while until finally reaching the gate. Thomas came through the fortress-like gates with a chuckle. As far as he knew, he wasn't being traced, and this new pal of his could make a good helper. For now. "
Welcome to Old Bones, Major. Expect some comments on your outfit, by the way. Gas-masks and high powered rifles aren't normal. Oh, and lose the Pure-Speak. Try and get an accent around here, don't start anything, and most importantly, don't take candy from strange men." Thomas chuckled, tossing his sly grin back and forth as they walked down the street to the closest thing the city had to luxury hotels. "
Hey, Gustavo!" Thomas yelled to the doorman, a strong looking man with a shotgun. "
'Ello, Micheal! Same room!" Gustavo's italian accent was thick, and difficult to understand, but none the less, the Major didn't know a Micheal, only an Andrew. "
Micheal is my middle name, by the way." Thomas said as he stepped up the stairs, and into his apartment. "
Swank, right?" By 21'st Century standards, this was a slightly above average hotel room, with a mini-fridge two soft beds, dirty blankets, and a still partially working shower, cold water only. It was Swank indeed.