-Foster hugs back-
Foster: You take care of yourself out there, alright? People as peppy as you are tough to come by. I don't want your buddy there to walk in and tell me you got yourself disemboweled out there.
"Seven is here too, dressed like the concept of choosing clothes that look nice together was an arcane secret far beyond their grasp."—The Marine sighs—
@Sandra: Tried that. They all were filled by the time I tried. So I'm kinda a bum at the moment. Thanks again for the money. But, until they find someone who's not good at killing filling a slot, I'm sorta SOL. And since I'm short on credits, I'm shit outta food as well. So either become a mercenary or join a group with a decent cook.
—He looks Sandra over for a second—
@Sandra: You're not by chance a charitable cook, are you?
'If you fall seven times, stand up eight.' The cry of the Undead.-Sandra shakes her head-
Sandra: "Captain Sandra Rockfield, United States Air Force, 31st Rescue Squadron."
Sandra: "I don't know if my group needs more members though. Perhaps you can go ask them yourself."
-She shrugs-
Sandra: "We don't quite have a recruitment office, though I think we should go somewhere else other than a market."
"We dream of better worlds, so that one day we may surpass them."

—The Marine nods—
@Sandra: Thanks, though I usually like to repay my debts. Even the charitable ones. Any way you see me being useful for you?
'If you fall seven times, stand up eight.' The cry of the Undead.