2016-03-22 Spy Game
This scene is rated Everybody
Warning: N/A
Players: Mike and Nico
GMed by Ghost
Title: Spy Game

Berlin, Germany

Off in a less populated area, a simple van ride away from the location of choice for this particular episode of 'Spy Game'. Mike is enjoying some downtime in his hotel room. Due to the inclusion of the trainer Mike insisted on having, the rocker is having a bit of a flashback to times of sharing a hotel room with bandmates. Only, less crowded and with a lot less err… recreational activities.

Strumming a guitar, the now short haired rocker quietly waits for his roomie.

Stepping into the office with a buzzTINK! from the lock, the rather boring looking man, no hair, and broad shoulders, almost like a younger version of Maine, but with less wounds. "Here's that sub you order-" He cuts himself off as soon as the door closes and a plastic sack is literally tossed into Mike's lap, haphazardly and curtly. He moves over towards the closet and opens it up with a snap of his wrist. He reaches in and pulls out a suit coat and tosses onto the bed behind him.

The sound of the locking mechanism gurgling awake is enough of a warning. The hand strumming the guitar stops, raising up quickly to hook the flying sandwich in a swipe, knocking it to the relatively safe perch of the bed. He doesn't look up but goes back to strumming the guitar. "Thanks Nico." Is the agent's name Nico? No? Oh too bad. Because that's how he was introduced when Mike had to make arrangements to include the agent. So he's Nico now. "Get yourself one?"

"I'm busy with work." Responds the agent, unfolding the suit travel case and then unzipping it. He opens it slowly, unveiling a miniature armory, presumably lined in lead or some other anti-scan technology. "Speaking of it's nearly time to go, Drago." Nico says, a hint of bile on the back of his tongue, though he does lift a pistol in Mike's view and slams the magazine home with a slap.

Who knew that Mike was going to be the little bluebird of happiness in this duo? Well, considering if you add a couple of feet and turn the tint a bit more to the purplish hue, perhaps a few people. The fingers continue strumming although the melody seems to move towards the final portions of its song, eventually dying, just like the appitite one may have for a sub sandwich when the person nearest him sounds like he's just one sudden movement away from retching. "We really need to get you a vocal coach…" He murmurs, setting the guitar down and instead grabbing his less technologically advanced backpack. Eh. Two sticks inside. Big whup. Maybe he's into that drum fitness fad.

Nico holds up a finger and swallows his own vomit before he looks back to Mike. "And we need to get you lessons on being an asset." Says the agent with a quick glower while slidding the weapon into the holster underneath his arm. Then moving back to the bag and stickign his hands inside to rummage some more.

"Hey, 'On a food run' is a legitimate cover story to explain you being absent." Mike defends, sliding his backpack on one shoulder. No changing. Just good to go, "And being they think I tell you 'surprise me' each time you ask what I want, you have a LOT of flexibility in random places you can stop at."

"Fair enough. Keep it up then." Says Nico as he pulls out what looks like a pistol but a bit chunckier and heavier with more metal on it. A collapsed sub machine gun is then slipped under the flaps of his jacket before he reaches out and grabs a head band, red and blue color. Nico slips it onto his bald head and then gives Mike another look.

Mike smirks, and reaches over his free hand, grabbing Nico on the shoulder, "Alright then." The pair soon vanish from the hotel room.


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