Devilry (DKC)

___"Oy..." A woman strolled down the streets of the lower commons, near the Club District, nonchalantly breathing out fumes. Clutched in a rather unsophisticated manner between her dirty fingers was her beloved skunk, a joint of weed she smoked in the flashing lights of the street. The woman's skin was dirty, if not dark, and her hair hung long and straight, though decidedly ragged down the side of her head beneath a grimy green baseball cap. Her short, thin figure was clad in an aged jacket with fake fur trim, a similar color and texture to the cap she wore on her head and the black, straight shorts whose wide legs hung lazily about her knees. Her metal soled zori clacked insistently against the ground as she made her way down the street.
___Her greenish yellow eyes hinted that her soul perhaps matched the state of her attire as they glowed dully towards the sky, the gears in her primitive mind turning. Things had gotten so boring lately, and she lacked motivation. She had a mental to do list that was rapidly fading... business was slow... maybe a drink would improve her outlook.
___Suddenly, she rounded a corner and saw someone familiar in the street having a conversation. "Eh?" Blinking twice, she stood and thought for several moments.

___There was another with her team member, it appeared... this she knew from the close proximity and sustained speech that Adrian maintained with this "other". Snorting a bit of the flavored smoke from her nose and tossing away the spent joint, she began to walk forward at a quick pace, oozing with a feline sort of grace across the street to the scene where the two talked. "Yo, Adrian..." she grunted amiably. "How've ye been since that accident, eh? And who's yer friend?" Though the speech was addressed to the man, her hazy gaze never left the stranger, though she stared only out of an inability to be polite and a dim curiosity than any particular malicious intentions. Her tone held no hostility other than that which it inherited from the general aura of hostility the spirit always carried with her. "Anybody I've forgotten?"

___The spirit's judgmental gaze immediately left the succubus when she was at a loss for words, taking such lack of assertiveness in introducing herself as a signal that she wasn't really a threat. Her right eye visibly twitched at the mention of her joining up with Propaganda. "Mmm..." she grumbled almost dismissively, pulling a red starred bottle from the inside of her coat and inverting it over her mouth. "...we do dangerous stuff, Adrian, you know this, eh? And I don't have any more clients at the moment that want slave chicks. It's weird, only one guy wanted any this season and he insisted on a child one. Must be the cold weather, sales should pick back up in Spring. Ah, speaking of gang stuff, I got some seeds I wanted to plant out in the woods... very profitable seeds if you know what I mean, but the trip's gonna be dangerous... you know... the woods and all. I don't think anything bad would happen if you and maybe one other person could accompany me out there. You ain't busy is you?" To all appearances she'd forgotten about the girl, but inwardly she was curious if there was going to be any sort of reaction to the way the spirit had dismissed the succubus as merchandise in her own presence as though she was discussing the suitability of a piece of furniture for the flea market.

___"Eh?" It was unusual for the man to turn her down for anything at all. The expression on her face made it obvious that she wasn't expecting a "maybe later". She recovered quick, however. Must be this new chick... the spirit concluded quickly, noticing that the besaid chick seemed to be at least trying to defend her worth in one way or another. Only briefly, there was some sort of an expression on the part of the girl... was that anger, or perhaps annoyance? It'd have to be amplified so it'd be more visible... the gangster wasn't all that sensitive to other's emotions and had a hard time sizing up people who didn't let their emotions run wild and free as she did. Eye contact was made and maintained with the girl, though Grunty continued to talk about her in third person... perhaps condescending, perhaps as a dare. "Eh... yea... I take a second look, Adrian. How much are ye paying for her? I know if she was mine and the market wasn't so bad right now I wouldn't let her go out cheap, but the market IS quite bad... not more than ten... maybe fifteen bucks a night unless it was a bundled deal." Holding one nostril, she took a quick snort as if trying to clear her nose. "Living merchandise isn't really my thing anyways. Not addictive enough. What business ya got out in the woods anyways?"

___For several moments, The woman still didn't remove her gaze from the succubus. With her previous assumptions, it wasn't that big of a surprise when the man stormed off. She did find it odd that he could tell her what to do, but people change. Odd that he'd go from smiling to frowning, apparently over this woman.
___Speaking of which, the besaid "other" still stood before her, insistently... well, either she wasn't that angry or she was still holding back. With a sigh, the woman took another swig from her Heineken and looked almost bored. "Eh... first you say ye ain't a cheap piece of mer... thing... then you say you ain't random. You ain't said or done nothin to prove you ain't either. I tell you what, Chick, you make one of my good men run away. You intend to make it up to me, yea?"

___"Well, it looks like if you two were going out together you'd be able to has a bit more influence over..." Once again, Grunty's eyebrow furrowed in complete confusion. "Uhh... wait... you mean you and him aren't an item? Or at least in a client-customer relationship? Eh?" Looking down the road, she scratched her head. If she'd known that was the case she probably would've just messed up his engine or something so she could ask him a few more questions. "I wonder what crawled up his ass then... if it wasn't you... " Not one accustomed to thinking, she seemed to not be getting anywhere in particular with her monologue. "I guess that means it ain't yer fault then. Ho hum..." Another quick drink and she turned away from the road, it held no answers. Sorry wasn't in her vocabulary on a literal level... "Hey, uhh... Chick," there was a bit of embarrassment at having been wrong in the spirit's voice. "Yea, so I guess since it wasn't you who made him run away I shouldn't have blamed ya. Uhhh, this is all I got." Holding out a small packet of lovemusk as an apology, she waved it towards the woman insistently for her to take it. "Ordinarily I charge a tidy bit for this... stuff's quite hard to come by. It's an icebreaker. If you ever come across some guy who doesn't want ya it'll change his mind. C'mon... gift from yer ol' pal Grunty."

___"Ah, naw, it's fine. Pressure tends to get to people... I don't recall him ever joining for real anyways." Making a quick inventory check, she ensured that she still had the proper number of baggies left for the night. Freebies were truly rare from her pocket. "I tend to run into him at odd times anyways. Maybe we'll cross roads again, eh? I guess I'll see you around though, Chick. Was nice meetin' ye." Turning shortly, the spirit begins walking off into the night from which she'd so unexpectedly appeared.