@BasilicaAgent “Dark ones. Cryptids. Grotesqueries. Demons.” The man listed off. “Inhumans who make their domain where light cannot reach, unbound by human morals and wielding dark powers suitable for the stain their souls carry.
An amber eye flickered from the shade of his hat in response
—
@BasilicaAgent Hostility was regarded with the same neutrality as a common greeting. After all, hospitality was the true irregularity to expect.
Cloaked in a crimson cloak and visage shielded beyond the shade of his conical hat, she was regarded with an arm emerging from that cloak to form
—
@Paradollal Hardly shaken by the result of negotiations, even as his hand fishes out a local coin from his coat. The fund is sprung off finger towards her while the Dhampir takes seat outside the establishment.
Which of their intuitions will play out, he wonders?
“By my eye, one with the face of a woman but a body of circuits and gears is scarcely normal.
Fret not, even amongst the most unassuming of men lies the abnormal, in tendency or yearning.”
@Paradollal “Do you earnestly believe the shopkeep would do business with us, even if I were to grant you the coin?” As natural as though sensing a rebuttal in the silence.
“You’ve one in your care already. Is the excess truly worth it to you?”