Although the weaponry was initially entrusted to me to stimulate business and create profit, I'd found much more there. The shop, often vacant of patrons, offered me a place to practice the utilization of any of the artifacts or weapons that were there. It offered me quietude to hone my skills in the creation of weapons, manipulation of minerals, and a place to explore the extent of my magic. It was in Arsenaal that I became aware of my affinity for illusions and it was there that I began to weave more complex webs of illusion. It was in Arsenaal that I learned I was able to contort and manipulate corpses â€" vampires and dead matter alike â€" it was in Arsenaal that my Shadow first began to animate itself of it's own will. The ethereal being had become permanent in my life, tinkering around in the shop with me and actually becoming rather useful in the dismissal of despicable people who thought themselves customers. Though I had built the business, I had actually needed to hire someone for customer service considering the vast amount of complaints I'd garnered simply by being impatient and oh yeah. Rude.

Customer service was staffed, security was staffed, business maintenance was also staffed... These positions allowed me to focus on the important things: the weapons and artifacts themselves. Often times, Finley would join me in the shop for a good swordfight. Dominos would be ordered, we'd lock the shop up and he'd let me sit back while the Shadow dueled for me. See? I'm responsible and innovative enough to let my Shadow fight, and occasionally even let my little brother win. Today, the pizza was already ordered and Finley was supposed to be arriving any moment with my double bacon stuffed crust â€" though, much to my dismay, a young woman stepped through the door as I was about to flick my fingers to lock the door and flip the sign.

Sighing, I leaned my back against one of the glass cases of maces I'd created, drumming my fingers impatiently on the counter as she surveyed the shop, entirely overlooking my presence in the far corner. It would seem that most customers overlooked me â€" but I wouldn't have it any other way. Finley, when in the shop, would gladly talk with them. Askaree supervised their fascination. Minn slept in a corner. Spencer was the only employee who didn't gravitate towards customers. I didn't mind that, though as he was only hired as my partner in growing the business. The existence of employees was so I didn't have to deal with the customers. Customers tried my patience in the worst of ways â€" young girls wanting knives to defend themselves or feel protected, men thinking that they needed a weapon. Not these kinds... No, they didn't need a knife that moved on it's own. They didn't need a mace that would spin by itself, and who's tines would fall off into the skin of the victim. I wanted to talk to customers about the weapons, but more oft than not the customers weren't worth my time.

Unfortunately, Finley wasn't in the shop yet and I was alone with the girl which meant eventually, I'd need to talk to her. Standing upright and quietly walking towards the case the girl looked in, I lit a cigarette before pausing near her â€" ever aware of the distinctly supernatural aura around her. My Shadow followed, flitting about on the counters, pressed against the wall until it was closer to me, pretending to toke on it's own cigarette.

"You might try a different kind of knife. These don't particularly like your kind â€" especially if you're a fairy or a were. The silver leaves a nasty scar."

Alright Finley. Where the fuck are you? Where the fuck is my pizza? Because if my brother had managed to get arrested again and use his one phonecall to order pizza - ... I already felt the anger.