A Wretched Hive of Gambling and Explosions [Open]

[cityship]

For those looking hard enough, the black market on XaXing shouldn't be too incredibly difficult to find - just look for the section of town where people don't look excited to be trading. Everyone in this little section of the market either looks like they just got away with a murder and need to keep glancing over their shoulders, or like they're about to get lined up for an execution. The more experienced traders here are clearly more at ease and looking as casual as possible, but there's still a distinct tension in the air.

An alien clearly designated as a police officer gazes down the street but, after a shopkeeper passes him and discretely slips some contraband into his hand, keeps walking.

An Iskoort and a human man dressed in black are relaxing outside the door to a store titled "Merchandiser, Brother of Hood Ornament Seller, Offers Exotic and Tantalizing Goods from the Far Corners of the Galaxy!". Under that sign, a few more signs detail how no background checks, down payments, identifications or collaterals are necessary. From inside the building, the sounds of a scuffle are audible, followed by the sound of someone choking.

The man in the doorway taps his cane against the window. "Keep it down in there!"

The Iskoort, Merchandiser, looks around a bit skittishly. {If you would allow me to purchase a sample of your superpowers, I could incinerate the body. I would pay a very reasonable price.}

"And leave nothing for your Mortician's Guild to clean up? Hardly."

Across the street, the shop that supposedly sells cactus extracts, but secretly specializes in drugs and hit contracts, lowers their blinds a few inches.


(( OOC: Here, have a criminal underworld! Feel free to tag in and run into other crew members ("what are you doing looking at faerie slaves?"), or into one of the underworld gurus here. If you want one of my NPCs to tag you, just put it in your post title. NPCs are Merchandiser and Dark Thomas Casey. ))

Comments

[cityship]

Merchandiser's whining takes on a melancholy turn at Iniss' refusal. {Would you still be interested in selling your own nightmares, then? They can fetch an excellent price on the market and I assure you, they would be completely anonymous.}

"Come back on Tuesday and they'll be done." Or the shopkeepers won't be here anymore. Dark Thomas takes the little suction cups from Merchandiser and takes them to the back.

[smugearworm.livejournal.com]

"Yes, how much will you pay?" The little curl of his lips was entirely relaxed.

< What are you doing? >

< You have a great store of them, don't worry, I'll give you half of whatever they give me. >

He nodded faintly at the time-line. "Acceptable. Sam, any objections?"

[chosenfamily]

Sam looked at Iniss and took his shoulder, tugging him back. "Tuesday will be fine," he said, using his larger frame to get leverage to pull the Yeerk and host away from Merchandiser before leaning down. "If they're your nightmares, fine," he muttered to Iniss. "You can wait until Tuesday to sell them. Tom's aren't yours to profit from." There was steel in his voice, a promise that it would not do to push him on this.

[cityship]

Merchandiser looks confusedly between the two buyers, waiting for them to settle their little row before making his offer. {Seventy-five credits, eighty-five for exceptionally unique memories. We will meet you back here on Tuesday.}

[smugearworm.livejournal.com]

He let himself be pulled back, tossing Sam a curious look as he returned the muttered words with a few of his own. "You humans have hundreds of dreams a week, most of which you don't remember. He'll take no harm from it and I'll share the cash. No harm, no foul. Why is this a problem?"

There was honest confusion in his voice, head tilting to the side. He'd seen the nightmares, they might as well be his own, and the credits offered would help him secure items on the planet.

Tom was silent, a deliberate blank of no thought that he had almost managed to perfect over his years as a host.

[chosenfamily]

"Because they aren't yours," Sam pointed out again. "It doesn't matter how many dreams he has, they don't belong to you. You're in control of the body, but his mind is still his own."

Sam raised his head and smiled. "Thanks but no thanks. We'll see you on Tuesday." And he wasn't letting go of Iniss until they were away.

He needed to contact Dean, too.