Morg listened to everyone else speaking, which, in turn, meant he was quiet. This is what most people would assume was a win. With him quiet he could not intentionally, nor unintentionally, anger or insult anyone. Well, that was not entirely true, he could anger and insult people using only a variety of hand gesture to signify his general contempt of others. This time, however, one hand was wrapped around the java provider, that is what others called a "cup," and the other held an non existent  cigarette. Morgan was deep in thought.<br/><br/>There were many people, that had they realized this, would have much preferred him to be his normal verbose asshole self. Morg deep in thought was roughly akin to giving a chimpanzee methamphetamines, a hammer, and a high yield warhead before locking them in an enclosed area. Nothing good could come of this combination.<br/><br/>Morgan slammed back the coffee and thumped the empty down on the table. he pulled money from a clip in his pocket down, leaving a rather obscenely large tip. What, the server put up with his shit, he made it worth it.  He stood on his bench, and for a moment looked as if her were about to walk barefooted across the table, before he turned stepped over the back of the bench and onto the one behind it. The people there were a little shaken for a moment as the shirtless, shoeless, camera bag totting lunatic joined their meal.<br/><br/>"Pardon me, " he said in his most polite manner, luckily, there was a lack of early morning profanity. He stepped down to the floor walked back to his table. He gave a rather disturbed, bloodshot stink eye to everyone at the table before softening and looking to Aline.<br/><br/>"Aline, you know this town, you know places. Sorry I cannot be sweet, I am an asshole. Get you shit together, get us a place to work and display and then get the word out that there is going to be a survivor's auction, in a month, of pieces we can salvage from the fire as well as other works. You are the only one with the stones and the connections to do it." Morgan's voice did not raise, instead it was remarkably calm, again, another warning sign for those who knew him well. " You are the best at this, you know the right people and can do this." He looked again to everyone,almost challenging them to argue his next statement, "And while we wait around for the insurance company to slow jack us and fight over every dime we need to work. We need to get our shit off the ground. Its time to drink, fuck, and make art. I got one down, that means I am in the lead."<br/><br/><br/><br/>