Avenue watched the fight with an intense glare. A wicked grin split his face when Key took the iron from Tum Tum, and he thought Well, maybe Hope is with this one". Key began to walk off after the fight, but the hoarse voice of Avenue was heard by all, "Key! You can't- you can't just perform a feat like that and not reap the- reap the rewards. Come- come here, and I will recognise the favour that Hope has- hope has clearly shown.". A look of understanding crossed Key's face as she wheeled around. No matter how good at combat she may be, she cannot fight Hope into the world.

"I realise- realise that there was error on my behalf. Prostrate yourself before me- before me, and I will anoint you in the place of Tum Tum," he said.
The gears in Key's head were shifting. There was obviously a lot of suspicion on her part, but she seemed to come to the decision that this was best for her. She approached Avenue slowly, and knelt in front of him. Her finger was still untreated.
"Bring me ape blood and- ape blood and boil some water. I need the iron- the iron, Key," he said, squatting down to pick up the wickedly sharp iron. "There is no anointment without a branding, Key. What sign do you wish to bear?" he asked.

After the needed materials had been gathered, they were arranged in a triangle with Key lying naked, face first on the ground in the center. Avenue approaches the bowl of blood. He picks it up, and washes Key's hair in it. He paints her desired design on her back, and sets the bowl down. The crowd starts to hum: a bass sound, reverberating within the gut, and pulsing through bare feet. Key would feel it throughout herself as she waited for what she knew came next.
The humming grew louder with every step Avenue took towards the fire. He picked up the glowing iron. Louder and louder. With a refined grace and speed, he stood by Key's side, and lowered the iron to her back. The humming grew to a crescendo as he traced her design in her skin, not going deep enough to hit muscle, but enough that it will make a vicious memorial to her promotion. The urge to cry out would be truly overwhelming.
By the time Avenue had finished the drawing the humming had died down. Crevasses had formed in Key's back, the skin charred and burnt where the iron made direct contact, and grossly discoloured in the surrounding areas. Avenue poured water over the burns, washing away the mixed bloods.

"And witness, as the water washes away the blood and sets the heat. Now you are blessed- blessed."

---

---

Key rises after her christening, tears flowing from her eyes. Perhaps, at first, you think this is weakness. But her mouth gives away the truth: She is weeping with joy. Her smile shines as you've never seen it, and she bows to you despite the pain on her back. "Thank you for this honor, Avenue. I will assist you in ushering forth Hope into the world."

She turns then, addressing the gathered mass. "Hope will require items for her arrival. We must build the gate, and she has shown it to me. We must construct a ring of stones upon the ground, with greater stones on the North, South, East, and West points. Within this Circle we must place 14 altars... Upon those altars we will sacrifice 6 of the faithless. 6 of the faithful. One who is without blemish or scar, and One who has been broken. They shall each be sacrificed with 7 knives, with no knives shared between them. Upon this circle will our flesh join, Avenue... and Hope will rush up to consume us, the final sacrifice, and we shall be as one with Hope, to purge all frailty and weakness from this broken world!" Her calm demeanor had become something of deranged excitement over the course of her speech, and she looks at you, Avenue, when she is finished. The look they hold for you has fundamentally changed. You no longer see resentment, but desire. Desire for you.

What do you do?


Pepsi, you have found yourself in a small, locked room made primarily from wood but reinforced with chain link fencing wrapped around the outside. The door is basically a pair of logs that can swivel outward, and have a pair of iron bars placed across them to keep them shut. you have a small window, but the chain link keeps your hand from going through it. Alcohol is here, with several of his town guards, and they seem to be assessing what should happen now.
What do you do?

Alcohol, you've got Pepsi locked up in the prison, apparently at your mercy. His hands and clothes are still wet with First's blood, and the metallic scent of blood hangs in the air. Twice is speaking to you in a hushed tone. "I say we shoot him now and be done with it," his voice harsh and conspiratorial. " We don't need some murderer running around and planting rebellious notions into the people."

Glock, another of the guards, raises her hand. "I don't want to risk starting a fight with Plaza. They're one of the bigger holds, and we just don't compare with them for fighting force. We would need an alliance before we could do anything... but I don't want him wandering around, either."

Alcohol, you're no stranger to finding yourself between two shitty choices. You know the Jaguares from Plaza will be on you as soon as they learn you've killed Pepsi. You also know Pepsi will continue to murder. And if he's sitting here, he's costing you additional manpower to keep an eye on him.
What do you do?


Sparrow, you've watched this conversation and seen that Milk and Hemlock seem to have parted ways peacefully, but something is tugging at the periphery of your senses. A sudden, powerful wrongness. As your eyes instinctively turn, you witness one of the monsters of the chasm. There is no other thing that such a shape could be.

It is shaped something like a human, if the human were wrapped in layer after layer of shiny plastic ribbons, midnight black in color. the ribbons of its body twirl and shift in ways the still air could not cause, and it slowly begins reaching a blunted arm towards Milk, the ribbons slowly snaking forth from the tip of its long stump like winding fingers, whirling through the grass towards Milk's legs...
What do you do?

Milk, as you make your way from the hut, you feel something tug at your ankles. At first it feels like perhaps you simply got mildly tangled in some fallen vines, but the way they stretch and cling to you is far too unnatural to be vines. As you look down, you realize you've been ensnared in a growing tangle of black, plastic tape. You've seen this substance before, when Twix showed you the inner workings of something called a VHS. As you come to realize that this is not natural, the mass tugs hard on your ankles, pulling you to the ground...
What do you do?

Hemlock,
HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED HE HAS ARRIVED
What do you do?

---

---

Something was off. Sparrow’s eyes shot around the forest from the relative safety of the tree before she arrived at Milk. At first, Sparrow thought she may have just been paranoid, but her feelings were soon justified. In the distance, a figure of nightmarish looks stood motionless, it’s tendrils reaching for the lone and defenseless Milk. Sparrow drew back her bow and launched the already nocked arrow in the creature’s direction before screaming towards Milk “MILK! RUN!” Sparrows senses went into overdrive as she maneuvered carefully and quickly through the branches, her balance never faltering. In all of her years hunting, she had developed an extremely good sense of balance that allowed her to accomplish things most couldn’t. Save the apes of course.

As she got back to the place she’d climbed up, she quickly wrapped her otherwise bare hands in a few layers of cloth before leaping onto the dangling rope below her. Sparrow’s heart pounded in her chest as the rope slid through her hands. Despite the fabric, when she reached the bottom Sparrow felt the sting of rope burn on her palms. With massive amounts of adrenaline surging through her body Sparrow took off in a sprint towards the figure. She pulled another arrow from her hip-mounted quiver and let it fly. At this point she wasn’t trying to hit it as much as she was trying to distract it. She couldn’t lose Milk. She was all that kept Sparrow sane in this world.

“Oh Mother Earth, splendour of life eternal and keeper of balance arise! Come and bring light to those that sit in darkness and dwell in the aura of death. Guide my hand to defend the harmless and abolish this monstrosity!” Sparrow spoke sternly, having stopped to properly aim at the figure that now stood no further than fifty feet in front of her. Sparrow’s once calm grey eyes were now stormy. She pulled an arrow up and drew back her bow fully, launching the vicious broadhead-tipped projectile towards her opposer.

Sparrow looked over to Milk for a brief second, making sure that her companion; her sister, her friend, was not harmed. Then, turning back to the beast and readying her bow once more, she spoke to the beast in a stern, but not hostile voice. “Creature, you have visited this forest once before in my presence. Why do you aim to harm the ones I care for? Who or what has sent you to wreak havoc among the Earth Mother’s forest?” The young woman kept her bow partially drawn, but lowered for the time. If the best even made the slightest movement towards either herself or Milk, another broadhead was only a split second away from flight.

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Only a moment after the conversation with Milk, would Hemlock's grin diminish. Her once bright features, melting away, leaving a blank, empty cavern behind. Eyes of light olive would appear darker, a ghost of their former self. The soft breeze that tickled at the skin, fell dormant, an eerie silence sweeping over the forest instead. Out of nowhere, a figure formed, its appendages ribbon-like, licking at the air as it moved. Hemlock's mind grew still, absent of thought, her own presence tucked away somewhere. Her expressionless eyes watched as the figure reached out to Milk, its vinyl ribbons tangling and contrasting with the ivory of her skin.



"Maelstrom.. He has arrived." Hemlock's mouth parted, the words oozing out mechanically. Her expression remained desolate, her eyes glued to the whipping and winding of the figure before her. "Don't fear The Maelstrom Milk..." She continued, standing still as she awaited what was to happen. However, the sudden whir of an arrow, slicing through the air, would shake Hemlock from the trance-like state she was in. The girl heaved a pronounced sigh, her chest falling and rising as if the oxygen had been missing from her body for ages. A series of hacking gags would follow, what appeared to be blood speckling the brush near her feet as well as her waiting palms. "You disrespect The Maelstrom Sparrow.. pity." Hemlock spat at the ground, hissing out the remark in Sparrows direction before turning on heel. She would have to perform another ritual soon, offering something to The Maelstrom as payment for the disrespect. While she herself hadn't done anything wrong, she had been in the presence of one who had. It was her duty, as a loyal follower, to pay respect to he who had saved her, led her into a new light.

Hemlock would slither back into her shed, drawing the drapes on the small singular window shut, the doors curtain of a door, following after. The candles that lit the small shed would smoke as their flames died, leaving the shed dim. There was no time for rest, while Hemlock's body begged for a moment of slumber, she pushed on, unwilling to succumb to the temptation that sleep was. Instead she clothed herself once more, pulling her snug fitting bottoms on, her top and leather armor coming after. The last item of clothing was her riding hood, its thick velvet-like material draping over her shoulders and back, the hood resting loosely atop her head. Something within her told her to go to town, an urge, a desire, an intense gravitational pull even. Something pulled her out of her shed and into the forest where she began her journey towards Steelbird Landing.

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"They are to be chewed and swallowed an hour before sexual intercourse and should last a few hours.."

Milk smirked, she always swallowed. "Thank you sweet Hemlock. I appreciate this more than you know." she cooed, taking the parcel in her hands and slipping it into her clothing close to her chest. She would make good use of this. Whether it would be shared with another or kept for herself, would be a decision for later. With that, she departed from the shed, but before she could get very far- a black material wrapped around her ankles and legs, and continued up to her thighs. Milk's mouth gaped to scream, as the human figure embraced her with it's multiple vines. This material was familiar, but she had never seen it like this.

Soon she was yanked to the ground with a sickening thud, her body appearing light as a feather in the grips of The Maelstrom. Milk was not a weakling by any means, but this creature had strength BEYOND any man. From the shed came Hemlock, her voice eager to hold no fear against this beast. How could she not fear this monster? How COULD she not struggle as the putrid smell of plastic and slickness of his entrapment tightened more as she struggled, "Help me! Help me!" Milk screamed. The creature covered her mouth, wrapping tightly around her airways. Milk panicked, the thud of an arrow landing into the monster with a direct hit.

He released his grips ever so slightly, and Milk found her second strength. She began ripping at him, using her teeth to rip and bite through his grips. Tilting her head back to the shed she heard Hemlock cursing Sparrow.

Sparrow? Her savior had come.

Hemlock could also now be seen in the corner of Milk's eye fleeing the scene. Damn that Hemlock. Her childish head was far too gone, finding companionship in monsters and rituals rather than her own flesh and blood. She regretted in that moment for being so nice to the woman, bitter and upset. "Sparrow!" Milk groaned, as she got herself untangled from the beast. She scrambled to her hands and knees as she crawled quickly away, getting up and out of the way as she ran towards Sparrow at her personal full speed. Her body was covered in scratches and abrasions from the struggle. Reaching Sparrow, she wrapped her arms around her, burying her head against her.

She lifted her head from Sparrow, and looked to the monster, "What is that horrible thing?"

---

---

SPARROW and MILK,
The creature speaks to you. Its voice is like a rasping whisper from a distant place being sent to you via a long tunnel. It is far away from you, but its voice sounds as if it is standing right in front of you.

"Womb," it said simply, one tendril plucking the arrows from its body bloodlessly and casually crushing their shafts. "Require womb. Must make more." It points a tendril at you, Milk.

The plastic tape making up its body shudders with a mass of crinkling noises. "Will find another."

The creature turns away and begins to stalk in the general direction of Steelbird Landing. "More at the Landing..."

HEMLOCK, You feel Him even as you walk. You detect him, moving in your same direction. You walk now with this avatar of the Maelstrom, even if some distance lies between you now. His un-heart pulses just as yours does, in perfect synchronization. You feel it in your bones.

Alcohol listened closely to the council of his people. Killing Pepsi would bring the Jaguars upon them. It was their "code of honor." Even though he doubted they knew what honor really was, those were the rules they played by, backwards as they were. Al must consider his moves carefully.

Pepsi would be locked up and kept in jail, the mayor thought. His reason was as follows: Execution makes a martyr of most, especially when they intend to be one. Executions would ratchet tension with Plaza into full blown war, nobody needs that. It would also show weakness and fear. However, letting him go would also show weakness. That would be betraying his codes and be broadcasting to everyone that we were subservient to Plaza. Keeping him in jail is costly, but makes a point. His ways of savagery and war can be contained. HE can be contained. Just a man with a sword, nothing more.

Dark eyes flicked from Twice and Glock. Al rubbed his chin and then locked his eyes with Twice. "We won't kill him. He's our prisoner, now."

He glanced over at Glock. "Change the schedules back the way we had it a while ago. Two guards near the jail at all times. One patrolling the nearby area, another directly watching the prisoner. I'd like you to be one of them, Ms Glock. You can be Warden if you accept. Little more pay, less patrolling, more responsibility. Up to you." Glock was competent and she was in the right mindset. Twice would be too eager on the trigger finger if Pepsi did something.

As he spoke quietly, he shouldered the strap of his shotgun.

Then, he stepped around the guards and took a couple of steps towards the cell in which Pepsi is sitting. He rose his voice to a normal conversation level.

"Twenty years in prison. Open up the hatch in the corner, toilet goes to the sewer. Two meals a day. Be good and you might get yard time." The last part was facetious but his tone of voice did not change.

He turned back to Glock, awaiting her answer and perhaps expecting Pepsi to say something aswell. Al would not grant Pepsi a proper audience, however. First he would let the prisoner stew in the cell.

"Of course- of course, this shall be done," Avenue said, suddenly unsure about whether or not Key was truly speaking to Hope, or to something else... Hope had previously never asked for a death sacrifice. The only ones who had died had been the ones who weren't strong enough to endure.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. His followers were patched up, Key wandered around looking stunned and happy, and food was eaten. After the final meal of the day, when Avenue had retreated into his quarters in the back of the chapel, where nobody could see or hear, he was sat upon the floor holding a knife, bleeding from a slash across his chest. The blood ran in rivulets into the small steel bowl called The Hope Chalice, and he banged the edge of it in a slow, repeating rhythm. Every tap saw him breathe in, every other saw him breathe out. He opened his brain to see Hope, and ask her what is true.

Avenue falls, but the wind is silent. There are no whispers until he has been falling for several minutes.
"An Avenue to show the path"
"A Key to unlock a door."

Avenue sees the ritual as Key describes it. He sees himself and Key upon the center altar in a rutting act of depravity, their skin melting together as if to form one writhing , screaming being. The altar cracks under the beast, and many black tendrils of plastic and metal and dust and silicone and wood and paper and glass and steel and...

They bind the creature, and a great needle of white light impales it.

Hope enters the world, resplendant and beautiful... until her face splits from her head with a sickening wet crack, and begins to slide off her cranium like a thick film. But Avenue cannot see what lies beneath.

Avenue hits the ground, landing upon a floor of meat. A being stands with him, looking as if made from many strands of black tape bound together.

"This is you," Hope whispers, "the beautiful fate of my children...

He picked himself up off of the floor and twisted his head. This ritual would take a long while to complete, and the unbelievers would be difficult to gather. Steelbird Landing is not a very lenient place.

---

---

Sparrow grabbed Milk by her upper arm and moved her behind Sparrow’s own body. The stalker’s mind was acting purely on instinct now, the adrenaline coursing through her body. Her heart pounded against the walls of her chest and threatened to break through, her pupils wide as her body had entered it’s fight or flight response. Her thoughts however, were quite calm in contrast to the rest of her. If there was one thing Sparrow had going for her, it was that she was at her best while under pressure. Sparrow may have been a loving individual in Steelbird Landing, but the moment she left the confines of the city she became a completely different person.

Sparrow let go of her companion and returned her hand to the string of her bow. The arrows were doing nothing to the beast. It was like that...creature felt no pain. Nothing. The very same arrows with the same precision and accuracy that had been the demise of countless animals and people alike, had been nothing more than a minor annoyance to this newfound threat.

She didn’t like it one bit.

“Milk, we have to warn the city.” Sparrow spoke in an unnervingly calm voice, her eyes never leaving the slow-moving beast. She took in a slow, deep breath through tightened lips, slowly bringing her heart rate back down. As the beast left her sight, Sparrow turned to face Milk. “Follow me, I know a shortcut to get back. We might be able to make it back before that…thing does.”

Sparrow turned to run, but then paused. Something she’d never considered crossed her mind. Something that, if only for a moment, frightened her. “Milk...why did it want you? It spoke of a womb, but there were three of us present. It wanted you, and you alone.” Sparrow looked into Milk’s warm, brown eyes with her own, trying to read her thoughts and emotions. Sparrow hoped with all of her heart that Milk knew nothing of this and that she was just as confused, but part of her had to be skeptical. She’d learned that the hard way as a child. Never again.

---

---

Your men snap into action. Pepsi is going to be out of your hair for a long time. You know, in the back of your mind, that their people are going to come sooner or later. They WILL end up coming around to see what became of their Warhand. But for now? You've got the beast in a cage.

Unfortunately, your bad day isn't quite over yet.

It'sa few hours past noon by your reckoning when an alarm goes up along the eastern wall. One of the guards spotted something coming out of the jungle, near where Hemlock has her shack set up. Within moments, you hear shots being fired, yelling, and the dull roar of everyone in Steelbird Landing bracing for the worst.

The shots don't stop. More rifles join in the shooting. Something big is happening.

What do you do?



Several hours have passed since you emerged from your vision, and Key has been at your hip since then, often touching you with her fingertips on your arm or your back, occasionally placing her palm on your chest wound.

"Did you see her," she asked you when you emerged, "Is she not pleased with us? It is as I said... she will come into the world through our flesh, will she not?"

Key is smiling much more than you are used to. Suddenly, her resentment has vanished. If anything, her loyalty has become rabid and steadfast even in these small hours.

As you are finishing lunch, Key suddenly sits bolt-straight, her eyes wide, and she points in the direction of Steelbird Landing.
"He has arrived He has arrived He has arrived He has arrived He has arrived He has arrived He has arrived..." She continues the sentence over and over, pointing towards the town with her eyes wide and unseeing. After a few moments her eyes roll back into her head and she collapses to the floor.

What do you do?



The two of you have been running for several minutes by the time you reach the walls of Steelbird Landing, erected from tall logs covered in whatever sheets of metal they could find: car doors, street signs, all of it.

"Hey," comes a call from above you as you approach. It's Twist, one of the town guards. "What are you ladies doing so far out here?" He has that look in his eye that you're all too familiar with: He's trying to figure out how he can turn this into some good fucking.

"You guys lost? I could walk with you down to the gate, maybe we--" Twist glances at some movement out of the corner of his eye. "What the FUCK is THAT?!" He lifts his rifle and points it a short ways north of where you're standing.

He has arrived.

"Run!" Twist doesn't hesitate to open fire on the creature, whose head turns slowly until it sees Milk.

"Womb," it says quietly, and steps forward with a plodding pace even as it approaches the two of you.

Hemlock, you have followed Him to the walls of Steelbird Landing. The guards have seen him, but they fear his baleful majesty and seek to pelt him with bullets. Beyond, you see Sparrow and Milk, and you see Him turn to them. He will put the Seed within Milk, and she shall bloom with glorious purpose to strike down the cancerous growth of falsehood and despair.

What do you do?





Asphalt, you're in your usual spot. Tell us about it. You had to send off a customer for being a fuckin' prick today. Who was it? What was she doing?

Twix is there too, just so you know. She's been acting funny, though. Seems really distracted and just wants to hang around your place. Why is that?

Oh hey, one more thing:
What do you do when you hear Twist on the wall above your spot start hollering at some "ladies" and then start firing his rifle? What do you do when Twix starts laughing about it?

Al looked at Glock as the alarm rang crisp and loud for all of Steelbird to hear. "You're warden, now. Shoot any prisoner that tries to escape until this is over." Capital punishment was the deterrent needed to keep the usual bunch of losers from taking advantage of the chaos. Of course, Pepsi was more dangerous than the usual bunch of losers, but that didn't change protocol.

Protocol was everything, and there was protocol in place to deal with attacks. Whatever was happening now, the police of Steelbird landing were equipped to deal with it. Bandits, those cultists, perhaps Novella is making her move, or maybe the Warhands have shown up earlier than expected. No matter what, there was something they could do. Al felt a little bead of pride in his heart at the reaction time of his guards. But now it was time to get serious.

Still holding his shotgun, Al made his way to the walls. "Get inside! Stay inside until the all-clear!" He shouted. He kept the barrel of his shotgun angled towards the sky as he and a patrol made their way towards the alarm. The alarm bell was different from the all clear bell. This meant that, unless the bandits got really lucky, they wouldn't be able to replicate the all clear bell and trick civilians into coming out of their homes if it came to that.

It didn't take too long- Al and the guards knew this city like the back of their hand and it was a short moment before they reached the eastern wall.

"What are we looking at?" He asked Twist as he made his way up the shoddy wooden stairs behind the wall. His question was answered however, because it was hard not to notice the abomination before them. Al's stomach dropped and he made a weird face.

"Pphht. Huh- okay." He mumbled under his breathe. "Sure. Yeah-no, good. Good." The mayor complained quietly. This is what everyone needed. "Crochet lookin'..." His words trailed off.

"I don't know!" Twist responded to the mayor's previous question. He fired off another shot and everyone's hearing got just a little bit worse.

'Monsters aren't real' he said. 'Just rumors' he said. Well, now who's the jackass? He thought. Me. He would have to re-evaluated his life choices after this thing was dead- or after it consumed all the light in the sky. Which ever first.

Popping his neck, the mayor posted up on the wall, levelling his shotgun at the creature. That was when his eyes fell towards Sparrow and Milk, who were, for some stupid fucking reason, were on the other side of the wall being chased by this thing.

"Get the fuck in here!" He shouted as loud as he could, his voice carrying to the two women.

"Someone crack open the gates! Let 'em in and close it behind them." He ordered his people. Fortunately, the creature didn't seem too fast.

"Everyone else- light that fucker up!" He punctuated his sentence with a blast from his shotgun. The creature was hard to miss, and the spread should be pretty effective at this range.

Steelbird Landing laid down fire upon the creature from the woods, and the world was filled with the sound of fireworks.

A swift stomp to the face would shut Key up for good.

"She said he," Avenue said. He stomped again. The way her teeth broke was oddly hypnotic, caving in like so many little pebbles. Were the pebbles to be covered in blood and being eaten. Or like oysters being broken open to find the slimy treasures inside: and that wasn't at all an inappropriate way to describe Key's face. Slimy. Blood and Mucus mingled with the sweat. Nothing had pooled yet, but there was no way it wouldn't.

Snap

"Oh that must- that must've been something,

That it was.

He had his suspicions, even after he had contacted Hope. She had never been... whatever that was... before. And now with Key declaring that 'he' had arrived, clearly contrasting Hope's femininity.

Crunch

Her skull went, and Avenue nearly tripped. Almost gingerly, he lifts his foot out, and calls out "Medic. Patch her skull- her skull up and carry her to Steelbird. The rest of you. Follow me, stay cl- stay close." He didn't know why he had decided to move, but he had. Maybe it had something to do with the Hope impersonator.

Regardless of reasoning, he marched. Like loyal dogs, his cult followed. Several medics carried Key's corpse on a small platform. They very well couldn't leave her behind, there were plans for her.

“Get out of here, dumbass! The boss doesn’t do fucking charity, neither do I!” Asphalt said, keeping his knife close to him as looking at this bitch of a woman trying to hire him to steal some sort of ‘necklace that had been stolen from her and she knew that her neighbor had it’. She tried to appeal to his moral side, which did not work given Asphalt only did work that the Boss gave him and that would keep the likes of the Ghost nice and happy. He let out of sigh behind his mask as the bitch left, saying how absurd the service was; was it his fault that all people had to pay up front for these kinds of things?

However, he couldn’t help but give out a laugh as his hands fiddled with a necklace in his pocket, it was quite funny. Asphalt looked over at Twix, who had witnessed this excursion and simply shrugged his shoulders saying, “What can I say? It was a nice looking necklace and the Boss wants to sell it for the good shit.” He waltzed over to her, noticing how she seemed a bit weird on this rather fine day, not that he was not used to weird. Though, he liked that she was at least here, gave him something to talk to while he waited for further orders.

Asphalt looked around his extravagant little hole, fine-looking objects adorning the walls in a rather messy fashion. None of it was for sale, but it helped to add to how Asphalt was the greatest man for his usual jobs here given that technically, he did not own any of the objects here. The Ghost looked back down at Twix before he asked, “Let me guess, Milk on your ass again?”

She nodded. This was a normal thing to do, Twix normally came here to hide out from the likes of Milk if she did something objectively bad. It was not a bad idea either, not many people came to his little area, only the depraved came here offering money for Asphalt to steal things, other than that, the little hidey-hole was more or less an outpost for the Slaving Boys within Steelbird Landing.

“Whatever has got you worried, let's say, you, me, best ten minutes of your life in the back? I am-”

Asphalt stopped talking when the mood was ruined by the asshole guard, Twist, fucking shouting. “Damn it,” he sighed when Twist began to shoot at something. At least this caused Twix to start laughing, but soon it was like hearing fireworks. Asphalt took Twix’s hand and said, “I’ll be back. Offer still stands, just wait in the back if you want,” he let go and began to walk to the door before he turned, “Just don’t touch the table! The Boss uses that for… things."

With that Asphalt began to stealthily make his way to the nearby wall, climbing onto the roof of his place and moving to an area where he might be able to jump onto the wall. He was going to tell these assholes off for ruining his moment.