[ mickey'd watched him making it to the door from an upstairs window, so he realizes there's no muscle in sight, but nevertheless, the shotgun is still leaned against a shoulder, clad in what remains of a motorhead shirt that had the sleeves cut off. ]
You gotta start bein' less nice to people if you're running this cartel business, man. Come on.
[ he steps back, pulling the door open to let jesse in. ignore the part where 'being less nice' would've meant mickey getting his ass kicked, but he's more used to being in charge than one of the runners. maybe another part of it is just part of being from chicago slums - rude is just how everyone talks. no one wants a spineless coworker/employee. ]
You want something? Beer? Vodka? Pop?
[ the living room is clear and clean (aside from liquor bottles and cigarette ash trays), probably because it hasn't been that long since Ian left, and maybe Mickey's still holding onto the hope he'll show back up. ]
no subject
You gotta start bein' less nice to people if you're running this cartel business, man. Come on.
[ he steps back, pulling the door open to let jesse in. ignore the part where 'being less nice' would've meant mickey getting his ass kicked, but he's more used to being in charge than one of the runners. maybe another part of it is just part of being from chicago slums - rude is just how everyone talks. no one wants a spineless coworker/employee. ]
You want something? Beer? Vodka? Pop?
[ the living room is clear and clean (aside from liquor bottles and cigarette ash trays), probably because it hasn't been that long since Ian left, and maybe Mickey's still holding onto the hope he'll show back up. ]