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8/5/2015 6:17:11 AM
1
Alloy takes a hold of iron. Markov looks through the exposed cylinder, flicking it with a finger to watch it spin smoothly. He snaps it shut with a flick of his wrist and tests the hammer. It snaps home with a lively [i]click![/i]
"How much?" the man asks, running his fingers down the barrel.
English
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"800 credits for the gun, each bullet is 50 credits"
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Edited by daveyboy_d: 8/5/2015 5:17:57 PM[i]I didn't like the price, but legitimacy has its costs. Chalk one up for Big Business.[/i] "Two rounds and the revolver," Markov concedes, before turning his wrist over and sliding back his coat to reveal the data pad and presenting it to the man at the counter. "Does the revolver come with a Stetson?" he asks, in a tone that might just be dry enough to suggest humor. Maybe.
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"Alright. And what's whaddya mean a Stetson?" the cashier says as he reaches below the counter to give you the two .357 Slugs and the revolver.
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"It's a cowboy's hat - or was," Markov explains. He pockets the bullets and the pistol in separate pockets inside of his coat, hoping to keep them dry. [i]The pistol felt good. Solid. It wasn't powered by enough lead to turn somebody into a pencil, but there was more than enough to make somebody regret messing with me.[/i] "Thanks for the piece," he says, starting to turn toward the door before stopping. "You wouldn't happen to know about any work around these parts, would you?" [i]Now that I'd made myself a pauper, I'd need a job. This was a rough town, and a gig here promised to be just as tormenting. What choice did I have, though?[/i]
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"You mean a way to get money?" the cashier corrects you before leaning towards you over the counter. He speaks in a low voice: "You could steal, do some deeds for some random people, or work for Jack Rabbit. Working with him doesn't get you Credits, but it does get you some damned nice gear."
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"Give me Rabbit's number," Markov says, watching the conspiratorial checker. "Do those random people have any names?" [i]Working for people I didn't know for uncertain gain. It sounded like the perfect way to come down with a nasty case of the deads.[/i]
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"Yeah," he says, and uploads a notification and comm code to your Tac-Pad. "And the randoms have names, just don't know 'em."
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The man looks at his Tac-Pad and nods. "Who would know the names?" he inquires.
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"No one except themselves and their friends. Go look for them and have a little chat." ((Talk to the other Cyberpunks.))
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"Thanks," Gregori says simply. He steps out into the cold and the wet, leaving only a small puddle behind him. His steps slosh as he walks away, and his thoughts become as dreary as the rain that's choking the city. (( End. Thanks for a great first go! ))
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Edited by HickoryHamMike: 8/5/2015 11:44:08 PM((No, it was all you, man. Love your noire-esque narrations!))
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((I'll be taking over now. The T-29 costs 800, and each .357 Slug costs 100. You have 1,000 at the moment. So you may wanna edit your last reply :P))
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(( Edited. ))
