At a secret location within the suburb of the city, a rugged-looking man was busy tapping away furiously on his laptop keyboard while listening to a live transmission communication.
He had a conspicuous scar on the side of his bald head and a tattoo of Medusa on his left arm.
He seemed deeply engrossed in his job occasionally scrunching his face and flaring his nostrils in irritation.
Seated opposite this man was his pregnant partner Nora, dressed in a bump short paired with a stretchy spaghetti strap red top.
Her long legs were lazily crossed on the dining table, and she was smoking dry weed and puffing out a cloud of smoke through her mouth.
"You know you're still pregnant right." Nora's partner, named Rust, gritted his teeth, the fumes of the weed, choking his lung. "That thing is not good for your child, and yet your crackhead doesn't know when to call it quit."
