West

The western part of the city is often home to the poorer residents. Here there is a grunginess that permeates the town from the graffiti on the once cleaned brick buildings to the broken and unmaintained architecture. Crime runs high within the western half of town, making it the home of supernatural gangs of illicit activities. Such activities are rarely reported, however, and most residents are distrustful of individual's of authorities, and often let the powerful supernatural beings sort things out amongst themselves. Be careful wandering the Western streets after the sun falls.

What You'll Find Here

Black Market
Cull & Pistol
Noah's Ark
Syn

Just another Night to Kill


Posted on September 06, 2016 by Troy Marks
West


I can tell the instant that I choose to talk back to her that I'm dealing with either a woman grown up in harsh conditions and taught to be just as good as one of the boys, a fighter who learned not to take crap from anyone and is used to giving orders instead of taking them....or a woman on her period. Either way, I'm already amused. She looks up at me for the first time and I look into dark mocha brown eyes. Exotic, sexy. She doesn't look at all amused by me. I tilt my head and hold up my hand, wiggling my fingers. "Well? Will it be piggy number one, two, or three? Or do you believe in taking out four with one swipe? Indulge me, I'm curious." She seems even less amused to know that I'm willing to hold a full on conversation with her now. Uh oh, what did she do to deserve this? She sets the dagger down on the counter and my wandering gaze moves to it hungrily. What can I say? I like weapons, what can I say?

As she stands, I admire the charcoal locks falling across her shoulders, choosing to ignore the finger tapping on the counter. She doesn't seem to take kindly at all to me teasing her about the dagger and the weapons all around her. She almost looks offended but I would hard pressed to figure out which part of my teasing could offend. I tend to put insults in everyday speech all the time. Some find it witty and charming, others offensive and annoying. I'd say she's the latter. I tilt my head as she goes off on her little rant, chuckling when she's done. "Easy, spitfire. I'm just checking out what could well be my future supplier. I'm somewhat of a collector. As for the sake of your contentment, I'm free pretty much any day of the week that you want to, as you say, use your beautiful things on the raging idiots or even douse your liver. I'm a pretty open minded guy." I grin and move closer to the counter, waving my hand toward the dagger she was cleaning while, of course, never trying to actually touch me.

"So what's the story on this piece? They say most weapons have their own story, something that makes them meaningful and worthy of holding on display in a shop. You just like to polish the small things or does it mean something to you?" I let my glittering hazel eyes do the talking with the double inuendo.


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