“Hey, Faultline,” Skidmark’s smirk dropped off his face as he realized who else was present. “What the motherfuck were you doing, fucking with my party!?”
Oh yeah, that’s right, he wouldn’t know why they attacked. From his perspective, it came out of nowhere.
“You had something we needed.” Faultline’s response was as measured and calm as Skidmark’s question wasn’t.
At least one of them seems to respect the truce and the idea that they’re not here to argue about past grievances.
Okay, maybe I’m being a little hard on Skidmark. It’s not like he just attacked Faultline over it, and it’s honestly no wonder he’s pissed.
“Who hired you, bitch? Tell me and my Merchants won’t come after you in revenge. All you’ll have to do is return that shit you stole or pay me back for it. Maybe you can spit-polish my knob for a little goodwill.”
Oh yeah, of course. It kinda slipped my mind that Faultline’s crew primarily act outwardly as mercenaries and as such the others would assume someone paid them to attack.
Faultline could lie here and subject someone else to the Merchants’ revenge, but I don’t think that’s her style.
“Not going to happen.”
Especially the last part, I would assume.
“Then forget sucking my cock. Pay me back and tell me who hired you and we’ll call it even.”
Apart from that particular unreasonable demand, he’s actually being fairly civil about this.
I mean, for Skidmark.