Sabre stared for a moment. His attitude towards a potential customer was so completely indifferent compared to the aggressive merchants she was used to; she wasn’t sure how to proceed.
“Um, excuse me,” she tugged her head scarf out of habit.
“Mhm,” Al said, still not looking up from his game, “have a look around or whatever.”
“Actually, I was looking for the owner? Are your parents here?”
“If you’re looking for the owner, you found him,” Al scowled, looking up for the first time. He gasped, dropping his controller and pointing rather rudely, gawking unapologetically “I-it-it’s you!”
“Um, yes? It’s...me?” wondering what on earth he was talking about.
She was already well-aware that she didn't fit in here, but she was equally sure he hadn’t noticed her at all during his revelries last night.
“I- I mean,” he stood, smoothing out a wool vest, “Ahem. You're that new lass in town I gather. So... what brings you here, stranger?”
“Well, like I said, I’m looking for the owner?”
“And I told you, that’s me,” his eyes narrowed.
“You’re- ...kidding right? I mean, you’re just a kid, aren't you?”
“Listen bitch, I’m older than you by at least a decade so just tell me what the fuck you want.”
A decade, Sabre thought, there’s no way. She was now riled up herself.
“Is that anyway to talk to a potential customer?”
Al took a long deep breath through an extremely odd-looking vape pen and let out a cloud of steam through his nose.
Well, this is off to a great start...
Sabre quickly determined this young man had a bad temper, but she was still unsure as to whether he was actually as dangerous as some of the people around here seemed to think. He stood silently, nearly a foot taller than her, with an expressionless face.
“I’ll speak how I like in my own home,” he finally replied.
Sabre was a naturally stand-offish person, but she decided to change tactics.
“Sorry,” she said, “about the bell. I... didn’t know the door was on a spring hinge like that.”
“Whatever,” Al seemed satisfied, and turned back to the counter, “It’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”
He immediately returned to his video game as if she wasn’t there.
How on earth does he manage to stay in business, peddling this useless crap with such a bad attitude, Sabre wondered.
Well, for the time being she decided to explore the shop. On the left side were endless crooked shelves that housed disorganized bottles and mason jars of all shapes and sizes, containing powder, liquids, dried herbs and other...questionable substances, some locked away in both clear and wooden cases behind the higher shelves. A moldy wooden sign hung over the shelves declaring them to be spells and potions.
Do people really buy this crap?
She turned a corner and jumped backwards at the sight of a giant jar full of what looked like eyeballs from a goat or sheep. There was crap everywhere, moldy rugs intermingled with cardboard laid flat on the ground. Most everything looked like it had been fished out of the ocean... or a landfill. Nothing had a price. There was the occasional item that looked interesting, an intricate but tarnished silver mirror, a strange half-rotted woodcarving.
“Are you quite done?” Al was suddenly bending down, nose to nose with her. Sabre jumped back.
“Um…”
“If you’re not here to buy something, what do you want?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake, what a brat.
“Listen, I’m not from here and-”
“Pffft! Well DUH!”
“I’m looking for a room to rent,” Sabre finally said, “I was told you have one.”
Al blinked, and she could tell he was genuinely surprised. He then sneered.
“And who the fuck told you that?”
“Oh please,” Sabre rolled her eyes, “I’ve only been here two weeks and I think we both know exactly who told me that.” She crossed her arms.
“Brennen,” Al rubbed his temples and grumbled, “That meddling oaf...” He glanced back at her, “Y’know, I’m betting you’re not as stupid as you look.”
“Um... am I supposed to say thank you?”
“So, that begs the question, if you’re not an idiot, what are you doing HERE?”
Sabre could immediately tell it was a loaded question, dripping with an intent that she could not quite place. From his tone, he was obviously aware that is poor reputation preceded him. He began to circle her, looking he up and down, as if her were checking for weapons.
"Ch-Cheap!" she managed to sputter out, unwilling to admit that this creep was actually starting to freak her out, "I'm looking for somewhere cheap." Sabre regained her composure, "I'm guessing from the state of things around here, that the upstairs couldn't be that much better, therefore I was expecting to find somewhere cheap."
"First of all," Al's eyes now narrowed in venomous slits, "RUDE."
"Do you want my money or not?" Sabre stated boldly.
For some reason this made Al smile slightly. Sabre assumed that she had finally tapped into his greedy side that had been briefly mentioned by Mr. Brennen the night before. All to the contrary, though, it was the fearless attitude of this young stranger that had begun to intrigue him.
She's not afraid of me? Al mused, Well, an out-of-towner wouldn't know any better I suppse.
Al whisked around back behind the counter and pulled out a drawer from a file cabinet in an explosion of dust. He flipped out a hand-written contract for a lease and slid it across the counter towards her as Sabre approached.
"Two-hundred-and-fifty-pound sterling a month and no less," he said casually, putting on his best business-man smile, "And I can promise that you won't find a room in a hundred miles cheaper."
Sabre looked over the contract. She only had a moderate grasp of the exchange rate to pounds and didn't know the difference between British pounds and whatever a Pound Sterling was. Besides all that... there was this fuckin' weirdo...
What the hell am I getting myself into?
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