Thread: Worlds, among other things. Post-apocalypse RP with Lotherio & Cosmic

Taking a proverbial step back, Cid was allowed that opportunity to just take everything in, the interactions between the vendor and the girl. There was a fleeting moment, albeit briefly, were he was wondering if this might be the sort of wanderer he needed, if she was really familiar with the glorious flora of the wastelands, the sort that eats meat, and even some of the mutant humans gone wild hed hear about she would be ideal. Then . and then, there was her mouth. If the weather didnt kill him, he might shoot himself if she went on this much. The thought was out for the moment, right about the time she was grabbing his shoulder to lead him away. Though over his other shoulder as he was led away, he offered, Shoulda stuck with the hard to obtain bit Barns, I might of come up on my offer. Then a shrug as he turned down to take in this girl before him. He wasnt fully sure of styles out here in the sticks, but he was pretty sure hed not seen many women with short hair or girls with long hair and this one, well she was neither. He didnt know if he should even take her serious but she was being blunt and credit is given were due at least. The only indication he gave to hearing her go on about stealing of guns and her poor dad, something about his face being broken and bartering a deal was that he tightened his lips slightly and smudged them to the right side of his face. The sort of silent, deep consideration of the thoughts she was throwing his way. Folding one hand over his abdomen, grabbing the elbow of is other and putting that hand, in return, to his chin with one finger extended, he wiggled that finger to ponder, Now, let me get this straight. And he continued to tap his chin while he talked. Meanwhile, a couple of old wanderer friends cantered down the street, decked in empty bandoleers, arm in arm singing some old song, sad and humorous all at the same time. Cid paid no mind other than tighten his brows a little to focus on the girl as he continued with what he was getting straight, This gun, you claim is your dads. This well kept rifle that has probably seen little dust outside the city. And youre saying I somehow stole it, but youre willing to make me a deal. It wasnt question, just stating the facts. His finger had enough chin tapping so it moved to nose scratching as he digested what he just reiterated. Then it tapped the nose one time, steadied there a moment before his hand fell into the fold of arms over abdomen and chest. This rifle was given to me by my employer. He lives back there, eyes up to the tallest building in the city, Maybe you should take it up with him, I think hed love to fill you into an appointment slot, not much color in his office. You could really spruce it up. That was when he turned and any self preserving survivalist would note the gun was completely slung slicker style, just sitting in the sheath, could as easily be taken right out without him even noticing it by the right pair of hands. He certainly hadnt spent a lot of time amongst the squatters. After revealing that evident fact, he did turn over his shoulder to say, Unless you know something about the city of Zana DuRadu in that case, we might be able to work something out in trade. I have more goods in my car. He pauses, letting some grit creep into his boot through the really small hole, good thing he wore his holy hole-y socks today.