Hey, come on try a little. Nothing is forever

[chub]

[A cigarette dangles loosely between his lips as he reaches for his lighter. Maybe he should do more, but he's a no collar boy with a genius IQ who doesn't want to take up the responsibility of saving everyone else. Maybe that's why he likes doing shitty schemes. In that way he's certainly Frank Gallagher's kid-- only he's smarter and better looking. Still he makes the ends meet however he has to, no matter what Fi thinks. This is his life after all.

So once the cigarette is lit, he'll start walking around the back of this old building. He can sell anything, though he doesn't have anything on him to protect himself. He's no Malkovich. But he's in the business of making money. He taps on the back door.]

I heard you got something for me, [Lip replies when the door finally opens.]

ooc: rating is for language/ illicit deals, etc etc. Lip is looking for anything/ anyone if he thinks he can make a buck on it.

Comments

[nadezda]

[ Well now, that isn't the most convincing look on a potential accomplice for a national security-level sabotage. He looks young, she thinks, young enough to be one of those smug-looking boys giving her daughter the wrong look. The cigarette dangling on his lips doesn't help.

Cigarettes should be held. Controlled. Not left dangling.

Elizabeth gives him a thin smile, stepping back to let him in but staying by the door so she can make sure no one caught sight of his entrance. No witnesses. A good start, at least. ]

On the table. There-- [ She rushes to follow him into the pathetic excuse for a house, pointing at a clock on a table. It's been modified to have a tapping device inside it. ]

What's your name?

[chub]

[Truth be told he certainly wouldn't be the first boy giving her daughter any kind of look. He's got that 'from the wrong side of the tracks' look which is generally appealing to daughters rebelling from their mothers anyway. Not that he'd know what to do with a girl from the right side of the tracks. But he's got a talent in bullshitting and getting money, so who knows?

Flicking the cigarette out the door, he sticks his hands in his pockets. He's not surprised by the way she looks at him, the whole 'he's young' written all over his face. But the professor over at University of Chicago talks well enough about him, and he's done more than enough hack jobs in his time. Pays the bills after all. He looks around the place, eying up the locale before his eyes meet her. He's not ignoring her. It's just teenage apathy, the whole he does this on his time mixed with the 'not giving a shit' constant state of being.]

Lip. [He moves to the table to skim the folder's contents after his eyes catch the clock.]

Look, just tell me what kind of security we're talking about? If I need my own tech, that will set you back even more. I do this low key.