Needlepoint Pt 2 - Thimble

	It's been an interesting couple of days. Medication dwindling and finances less than stellar means that Bobbi's panhandling becomes more important than ever - And a wise decision to head further afield leads her to the generosity of strangers - Which is beyond words, but not beyond numbers. $326.42, in fact. All of which can lead her back to that same alleyway she was in before, which lacks the well-dressed tanned man who was here last time, or, anyone, really. Down, and to the left, Marco is absent. The young guy, Diego? He's there instead, playing with his cellphone while sitting on the stairs that lead to somebodies back door, a bottle of coke beside him. Fun days ahead!


Hobbling down the alley, Bobbi raises her left hand in greeting, revealing the now familiar palm sigil tattoo. She looks around and doesn't see Marco, but recognizes Diego from the other day. "Is Marco around today? or did he leave you any work?" Bobbi seems upbeat. While she might need to plan ahead by getting more pills, she's not yet sunk into the desperation of true addiction


	"Que?" Diego asks in response, looking up at Bobbi when she approaches. Oh. The lame girl. "Hola, Marco!" He calls out, loudly. "Tu amigo barato esta aqui!" A chuckle before his attention goes back to his phone, rather than spend too much time talking to her. There's the sound of a door opening from deeper down in the alleyway, down a set of stairs hidden behind a small concrete wall. Marco appears - This time alone, with a bottle of beer held lightly in one hand. "Diego, un cliente es un cliente. Callate la boca."
	"Hola, Chica. What can I do for you?" He wanders closer, slowly. A touch unstead. Drunk?

Bobbi hmms slightly at all of the Spanish, making a note of what to study next. Her confusion goes away as the door opens. "Hey, Marco. It's me, Bobbi. I was wondering with those oxys if you do a discount if I bought a lot? Like how much for ten of them?" She gives a friendly smile, and makes eye contact in a non-threatening way. Maybe she's really that confident and friendly, or maybe friendly without a way of knowing that she shouldn't be confident.

	Diego mutters something else in Spanish that is almost certainly mildly offensive, but at least it's under his breath. Marco shrugs at the request, "Chica, that's not the weight you need to be moving for a discount. A man's gotta make money too y'know, if I go giving you a deal, I'll have to give everyone a deal." And he knocks back another mouthful of his beer, before his conscious gets the better of him. Maybe it's the cane. Of the non threatening smile.
	"Mierda... Fine. Shit. This once, diez por tresceientos." Ten for three hundred. The mouth of his bottle is pointed at her. "Once only, yah? 'Cause you've got a cane an' I think you need it. If I find out you're faking it though, I'll break it 'round your head."

Bobbi nods and takes cash out of the top pocket of her overalls. She counts through, and puts a little bit back in her pocket. Just a little bit of change leftover, maybe she'll buy herself a coffee later, at least for now, not every penny is required to feed the monkey. "Thank you," she says, as she holds onto the cash, waiting for the pills to be produced. "Did you ever hear if your friend wanted those other things?"

	"He said he's interested in a sample, and maybe he could come to some kind of an arrangement if it's the right quality stuff." Marco doesn't seem like he's particularly invested in that stuff, weirdly. Maybe there's not much of an LSD market in this neighbourhood. He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out the pill bottle again, tapping out ten pills into his hand, and then preparing the two-handed exchange that drug dealers know so well. Money in one hand, drugs in the other. Nice and easy. "Y'know those ain't last long if you chew 'em, right?" He suggests, tucking the money away. Three hundred and fourty in four days. That's very interesting. "'Cos you said you only chew pills, but if that mess," Leg, "Gets nasty, you can snort some shit to get you there. Ain't much but, if you gonna keep coming back," Rustling through his pockets to produce a point bag, and it's small even by point bag standards. "I can hook you up." It's offered with two fingers.

Bobbi makes the hand-off, and despite needing to keep a few fingers on the cane, she seems to be no strager to this. "I'll bring by a sample next time. I figured the Ketamine might be more marketable than the LSD." After pausing a moment, she notes, "Swallow pills, only swallowing them, not chewing. I don't need them to work that fast ... well, as long as my friend doesn't accidentally bump my leg again." She puts the pills in the top pocket of her overalls. Then, looking at the offered bag, "I'm not sure. I mean ... I guess I've snorted Ketamine before, but starting to snort pills seems like it could be a bad idea ..." It seems she's assuming that this is some sort of crushed up pill in a bag.

Yet again, Marco finds his generosity rebuffed. That's unfortunate. Maybe this girl has a little more self control than most of the drug addled. And clearly enough money to keep her addiction at least partially afloat. A gesture with one hand, rather carefree. "Sweet. You do you, I'll do me." Beer finished, he lightly tosses it over to the side - The musical shattering of his beer bottle filling the alleyway. "See you in a day or two." As if he's expecting her to consume all she can get her hands on.