After holstering her small handgun, Astrid turned back muttering "I hate this place so much right now..."

She headed back downstairs, her brother following behind her. At the same time the half-frozen chicken hopped in the house and immediately made itself at home right beneath radiator. The hen happily resumed cleaning her ruffled feathers.

The other two, who'd been silent until now, just continued to stare for a moment before Earnie spoke up, "Nice Chicken."

"Damnit Jasper!" Olly cursed under his breath, upon which his sister turned to face him nose to nose.

"Did I just hear you say 'Damnit JASPER?' To HELL with that! It oughta be DAMN YOU! We all KNOW it was your idea. It's ALWAYS your idea, Oliver! Have you no shame?!"

"I do, sometimes... but don't you think life would be so boring around here without me?"

"Don't pull that 'lovable scamp,' crap on me! I think you're confusing 'boredom' for 'peacefulness.'"

Sabre had elected to stay upstairs in her bedroom, with the chicken. She stroked it's soft feathers, as her adrenaline began to subside. While Earnie and Wen were cleaning up beer bottles and sweeping up broken glass, Astrid pounded her feet on the door to the basement.

"Ya' can come out now ya' snivling coward-"

"Fuck off! All of you!

"Gladly!" she grabbed her brother, who looked back to yell, "Uhh! You may have a chicken problem!"

A 'chicken problem'? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Al pondered.

Wen and Earnie politely bid Al goodbye through the floorboards of the back room. They each received a pleasant grunt in reply.

After they left, Al called for Sabre in such a deep, almost guttural, shout she could hear all the way upstairs and, honestly, it sounded nothing like him, "Sabre! Lock the fucking doors. All of them. Every time."

Sabre nodded, but then suddenly she realized he couldn't see her.

"Yes! Yes, do!"

"Good."

Sabre turned back to the chicken. It had been a long day for her, even though most of the her time had been spent just dickin' around, like any other group of young adults she supposed. Even that, though, had been socially and emotionally exhausting.

Would it be like this forever? Sabre suddenly sympathized with Al, wishing she had a safe place to curl up and ignore the word around her. She looked around the room, and a thought came to her.

After a few minutes browsing through hundreds of books, she picked one off the shelf, "Arsene Lupin, the Gentleman Burglar" by Maurice LeBlac.  

Sabre spread some crumbs from the chips that had been on her lunch plate earlier that day, and the hen, who'd now made herself at home, made short work of them. Sabre closed all her curtains and double-checked every lock before lighting the lamp and curling up in bed with the book. The overly affectionate chicken hopped up in the bed with her, and she gave it a very serious look.

"Do. not. poop. on. this. bead."

In her heart, Sabre already knew that there was going to be chicken shit on everything by the next morning, but she just sighed, already resigned to her fate. She cracked open the book, which was written in her native language of French, and she was suddenly swept away into another world.

It was already late in the evening when an impatient rapping came at the door. Sabre, who was still enjoying her book, now in the smelly chair by the old wood-burning stove, glanced down at the floorboards, unsure of what to do. She was sure it was in her contract to not let anyone in... and she recalled that she wasn't even supposed to be in the shop by herself, but she had gotten cold. Since the fire in the stove had still been burning she had moved downstairs to take asvantage of the free heat.

"I know you're in there Al! Open up!" shouted a sour-faced young man with a blue mohawk and face full of piercings.

She cautiously pulled back the curtain and asked through the glass, "Um, sir, do you mind waiting a moment? Mr. Dirk is downstairs and-"

"And who the fuck are YOU supposed to be?!" he seemed to be both surprised and concerned, "What are you doing in there? Where's Al?! Get out!"

It wasn't something Sabre was willing to admit just yet, but she was, in fact, beginning to get used to the way people spoke around here. It was crass, to say the least, but more often than not, she sensed no genuine malice behind it. She went to the back room and stomped heavily on the basement door.

"Mr. Al!" it was, of course, greeted with silence.

"You have someone here to see you!"

This warrented and immediate reply, which only confirmed he had been ignoring her the first time, "Who is it? PLEASE tell me you DID NOT let them in!!"

"No! No, not at all, he's still waiting outside. 'Gotta' mohawk, and some piercings-"

"Tember," he groaned, emerging from the basement, promptly locking the deadbolt behind him.

Al swung the door open while still buttoning his wool vest, "We're closed."

"What teh' fuck dude, you a gotta' security guard now or some shit?"

"Well," Al shrugged, glancing back at Sabre over his shoulder, "never hurts to have an extra pair of eyes n' ears right?"

"'Zat so...?" Tember looked Sabre up and down carefully, "Y'know lass, ya' got people lookin' for you."

Sabre instantly bristled, backing behind the register.

"Forget about her. If you're here on business, let's get to it."

"Right you are!" Tember announced as he slammed his skateboard on the counter.

"Well, that one's gone shit."

"It's the damn ice and rock salt, it's fucking up my wheels, the trucks, everything."

Alistair took a deep breath through his vaporizer and sighed heavily, "I suppose you want me to spruce it up then?"

"That's the plan," Tember raised his eyebrows, "don't tell me ya' can't do it now?

"Watch what you say you uppity asshole!" Al said snatching the board from the counter to examine it further, "There's nothing I can't fix."

"I'll need some of that blue powder you mix up too, for the hair," Tember ran his finger though his hair, "The ladies luv it."

"Welp," Al was in full-on business mode, "the board ain't gonna' be cheap, gimme bout a week, forty pound sterling upfront, plus parts."

"You're shitting me bro! This is highway robbery!"

Al leaned back in his chair, "Then go somewhere else."

"You burgler! You think I'm goin' all the way to Connel Ferry to have some stranger messin' with my baby?" clearly frustrated, and backed into a corner, he sighed, "and the dye?"

"Fifteen," Al replied, examining his fingernails.

"You dick! It was HALF that last time!"

"Well... like you said, the ladies love it..." Al jestingly added, "Though the same can't be said for the rest of you, I'm sure."

"Oh screw you! Like you've ever even touched a girl, you fucking man-eating opportunitist!" Al flinched at the insult and pursed his lips in annoyance. It had clearly hit a nerve in his otherwise unshakable compusure. 

"Another comment like that one, and you're out."

"Whatever! Don't be so sensitive!" Tember threw a wad of bills on the counter top by the register.

"Always a pleasure, Tember," Al smiled.

Tember spun on his heels to stomp out the door, "Three days! I'll be back!"

As he slammed the door behind him, Al began to cheerily gather up the bills scattered across the desk, counting under his breath.

"He was... pleasant," Sabre remarked.

"He's a good friend," Al smiled, and Sabre just blinked, dumbfounded. 

Half a block away and on the other side of the street sat a snow-powdered Anne Simmons, with her notebook. At first glance, anyone would assume that she was patiently waiting for the bus that would take her back up the road to the Clinic where she worked.
But, even though he had his headphones back on and blasting away, Tember noticed he was being watched, as he trudged back up the street... and he didn't like it.

"And just what the fuck are YOU staring at lady?!"

"Oh! I'm sorry. Tember, isn't it?" Dr. Simmons smiled, but his eyes just narrowed, "I guess I was just lost in thought. Your hair is such a lovely pop of color in all this white. It just caught my eye is all."

"Yeah, whatever," he lit a cigarette and promptly shoved his hands back in his pockets, continuing on his way.

After he'd disappeared from view, Anne looked back down the road toward the harbor, or rather, toward the shabby shop at the end of the street. On the page opposite her detailed sketch of the building, she scribbled another name, added to a list that was already quite long, 'Tember Price.'

Sabre, returned upstairs where she had left a pot of stew simmering, the potatoes and broth a gift from the Wren's.

"What the hell is that smell?!"

"Oh, I was just trying to make some soup," Sabre called back down, "Um... is that okay?"

"Whatever, it smells like SHIT... but whatever. Bring me down some of that lutefisk will ya?"

Sabre took the liberty of feeding herself first before making her way back downstairs, only to find Al removing the wheels from the board Tember left.

"So... you really are quite handy, hm?"

He looked up at her, grabbing the mason jar from her and twisting off the cap with a *PoP*.

"I want to be an engineer," he hesitated, "or, at least, I had planned on being one..."

Al slurped a piece of fish out of the jar, and burped.

"What about you, huh?"

"Me?"

"Yeah you! What made you stop with all the computer stuff?"

She stared at her feet, "I..."

"Hm... Not the most talkative person are ya?" Something in his tone changed.

"I could say the same about you."

"True, but I don't have the luxury of being as patient as you seem to be. Toss this into the fire for me will ya?"

 

He handed her a bundle of strange smelling twigs, and she did as he requested. Al got up from behind the counter, removing his wool vest and rolling up his sleeves.

"All games aside," he said, pulling up the creaking folding chair, "I think it's time we had a little talk."

Yeah, no kidding. You and me both, you freak, she thought.

After taking a deep breath from his rotten-smelling vaporizer, he asked, "Why are you here?"

"You've already asked me that," Sabre quickly retorted.

"Right, right, a cheap place to stay and all," a sudden plume of steam errupted from the stove and Al glanced at it before turning back to Sabre, "Let's try this again... Sabre MacGregor, WHY are you HERE."

Al's face suddenly looked different, but she couldn't describe how.

"I- I don't know," Sabre suddenly started to feel heavy, she stumbled from the bar stool, "I think... I'm still trying to figure that out."

Al stood up and approached her very slowly.

"Sit down here, by the fire. That's right, get comfortable..." Her vision began to blur. The sensation of not being in control of her own body intensified. She felt as if she were suddenly made of lead as she practically fell into the chair. Everything seemed to be moving in slow-motion.

"What- what's happening... What did you DO TO ME?!" trying to form her own words was quickly becoming a losing battle. But battle she did. She felt as though she was being locked inside her own head, screaming to get out. The weight of her body suddenly became too much to bear, and Sabre slid from the chair to her knees.

"S-Stop...!" she managed to get out through clenched teeth. Her own words seemed to echo in the small space.

Al casually took a seat next to where she was crouched down, "Well, you've got a strong will, I'll give you that. But see, things have become worrisome for me too, as I don't know enough about who you are and what your intentions might be. I do hope you understand..."

Sabre immediately spat at his feet.

"Just calm down. I'm not going to hurt you... probably," he added with a grin.

Sabre gave him a helpless but toxic look, dripping with hatered.

"I'll explain. When I ask you a question, you'll answer me. Just like the game we played earlier. See, easy right? You will not be able to lie. If it puts your mind at ease, just think of yourself as being placed under hypnosis, okay? Now, let's start. Sabre MacGregor, are you a criminal?"

AAHHGG!!! FUCK YOU! She bit her lip so hard blood began to trickle down her chin.

Al sighed, "Let's not waste your energy on such an obvious answer. The only people in a place like Odann are the people who were born and raised here or... people that are hiding from something. So, let's just assume the answer is yes."

Sabre could do nothing but glare.

"A violent crime, hm?"

"No," she answered simply, determined to not make this easy for him, but then her mouth again began to move of its own accord, "no but..."

"Go on..."

Memories of the worst day of her life came crashing back to her, like relentless ocean waves against a rocky cliff.

"It... came to a violent end," a tear rolled down her cheek.

Alistair, now able to sense her thoughts, hesitated...

He sighed, unwilling to admit guilt just yet, "The band you wear on your arm, you said it was your father's. Is that true?"

"It... is."

"Do you know exactly what that silver chain in the middle is?"

Sabre struggled for a moment. She didn't know the answer to his question, "It's... it's a family heirloom...I-"

"So you don't know, hm? That's interesting..."

Every word that had been spoken since they sat down by the fire still echoed in her head, with each additional word adding to the cacophony building up in her mind. Sabre's head was throbbing, and her nose had begun to bleed.

"Well shit, you are a tough nut to crack aren't you," Al said, in equal parts admiration and pity.

"Well... let it never be said then that I'm without a sense of mercy. In exchange for all this... unpleasantness, I will give you this binding promise from only me to only you," he carefully wrapped an intricately woven rope of what appeared to be seaweed around his hand and then hers.

Don't touch me! Don't TOUCH me!!! Sabre screamed, still trapped inside her own head.

"I will never lie to you," Al said sternly, looking directly into her eyes.

I'm going to have to be careful about this... Al thought, already predicting that situations would soon arise when he'd regret making such a promise.

"Just answer me this," he clutched her red hair and pulled her head up so that they were looking face to face, "Did someone, anyone, send you here to find me?"

"N-no," Sabre grunted.

"Did you come here to kill me?" as he released her and began to slowly back away.

"No," as he continued to put space between them, Sabre began to feel lighter with every step, "but... I-I'm beginning to seriously rethink my position on that."

"Heh," Al smirked, "A fighter 'till the very end. You'll be needing that."

The whole shop was suddenly covered in a fog, and Sabre fell slowly to the floor.