"Hey is that the newest Karl Kombatmage? I thought the action sequences were pretty wiz, but the last Sukie Redflower had way better story."
Only glancing down at the "counter" for a moment, the man's eyes shift to yours with an enthusiastic gleam in them.
"Yeah, Yeah! Chip truth, girl! They can't all be Sukie though, wiz? If they were..." He swivels his chair to face you better while putting out his cigarette, and in so doing, manages to check you out again.
"If they were, we wouldn't appreciate the ones that are, right?" He's clearly putting his best moves on you, and they aren't that great. You can see the upside down image of a 50 year old arcade game reflected in his baldspot.
At first, the orkish mother is a bit taken aback when Shortstuff walks up, plunks a token into the machine and begins helping her child with his technique. But it only takes a moment for her to recognize the genuine joy in her toddler's face at being helped out by a grown up who's even smaller than he is. Within a few games, the child's skill is improving and Shortstuff is able to steer the conversation with his friendly mother in any direction he wishes.
"Current mark for the job your friend Onesixseven sent my way. Not killing or kidnapping, just keeping her from summoning a watcher spirit. in fact, killing or hurting anybody is against the contract itself. You have any idea where any of her or her associate's are? I won't let them know who sold them out."
Snake takes a long, slow drag off his cigar, filling the air with a cloud the size only troll lungs could make with that thoughtful look on his face. He's weighing options. Doing math. Trying to predict the future based on remembered trends from the past. He lets your words and the smoke hang in the air together for a prolonged moment before raising the stogie to his lips again, but just before he inhales this time, he speaks.
"Fifteen percent." He's got the closest thing to an actual smile as he ever gets on his lips as he inhales once more, patiently waiting for your response.
