Another drink and Darion was just starting to feel the alcohol in him beyond the warmth of the liquor hitting his stomach after burning all the way down.  He was just starting on his third glass when someone new burst into the bar.  Like most of the patrons, the man in the trench-coat as well turned his head to look, though only enough to allow his replaced eye get a quick look and what basic information it could pull by his face and what little net access there was.<br/><br/>There was no view of his full face as he watched the newcomer and waited for even a little information through his implant.  Listening to his little pitch, Darion continued to sip his drink after turning back to the screen.  Not that he paied much attention to the reporter other than thinking she was attractive.  The offer was severely lacking on detail.  He probably wasn't desperate enough for creds to go for it<br/><br/>The drunk fool drew Darion's attention again, and actually pulled a laugh from him.  After though, he thought a little more.  His own supply of booze was severely depleted at home, and coming out to a bar every night could deplete what creds he had.  And his current 'work' was barely keeping him drunk.<span style="color: green">“What's the job?  And how much you payin'?” </span>He said loud enoguh to be heard without doing more than turning back to the screen and watching the reporter.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>