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    Private Debt

    ...did she just? No – musta been the liquor making him hear things. Trevor still looked around to try and spot a cat. Failing that, he settled back. Wind or some shit. Could always blame that guy for whatever you misheard. And he was propped up with more liquid than any flamefearing individual...
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    Private Debt

    Had to scratch at the jaw to keep his brow down. But it did stay down. It all sounded like a crock of shit to him, but she believed. Believers were never receptive to truths unlike their own. Nations had always been driven by a greed to have and be more – to take more. To be bigger than your...
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    Private Debt

    That-Which-Was-Destined-For-Soup did not stick around to recount its many, loud victories. Soon as the job was done, the twitchy featherfucker blended into the background and wouldn't be seen again until it was time for its next crime. Over time, a working theory had developed – that countryfolk...
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    Private Debt

    „Don't feel bad... was a decent effort. Took me eleven days.“ He lied, with a measure of respect. But twelve was harder to swallow. The truth of it was that he would've found her even if she grew a second head and decided to weigh twenty stone. Sometimes you found people before you realized they...
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    Private Debt

    Trevor pushed his lips left, then right, a lemonface of his own. Always had a knack for languages, just not the etiquette that accompanied them. It was wrong to put a foot in your own mouth, but if you were gonna munch on feet at one point, it was only a matter of time. So this wasn't really a...
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    Private Debt

    „I'm sure they prefer your name for it.“ Judging by her face it wasn't a thing dangled in the open. Made sense – people would mock you for going after treehuggers...and rightfully so, maybe. „And if you found them. Would you go home, Richgirl?“ He winced at the misstep, but it was bound to come...
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    Private Debt

    Grabbing up more tablecoins that'd never make it to the pouch, Trevor wasn't surprised. Perhaps he could eat... or, more likely, drink most of these. Doubted this middle of nowhere camp had anything worth remembering, but things were always more easily forgotten with a bit of booze. Shit booze...
  8. T

    Private Debt

    Trevor joined the others in picking up a couple coins off the ground. Made sure it was a net loss, purses got reckless if they never leaked a coin or two – seemed unwise to allow one such to attach itself to him. Made sure to put the loaded die into the pouch too. If he told Rob the die was real...
  9. T

    Kindling

    The logs flung into the fire disturbed Fuckup, who clawed at the inside of his coat. Trevor and the bartender shared a look. And no one heard a cat, not even when it meowed in annoyance. Always wondered when people celebrated if they worked the actual celebration. Maybe with their families, next...
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    Private Debt

    Richgirl was mid making a play he was yet to catch on when the cats came. A whirlwind of meow and hiss, knocking everything over. Flipping the table. Convenient. Suppose it was a good way to win an unwinnable hand – just make sure the game ends before it was your turn to eat the loss. Lucky...
  11. T

    Dare pigs unslaughtered

    The arm swung out, mean and bladed. They never listened. Never fucking listened. Why was he even trying? Should've just Jipknifed the bastard right in the eye. But sword was a poor tool when it came to peeling potatoes and their boys. Trevor stepped into the swing as the blade passed overhead...
  12. T

    Private Debt

    „How about it, Naku?“ Trevor nodded to the clusterfuck forming on the table. He didn't like the idea of the spy winning after he'd tried to pull a con on him – but even a win, didn't make all winners equal. „We gut the thing and then roll for the treasure?“ It was only worth scamming people out...
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    Dare pigs unslaughtered

    So Zalan was a firefucker after all. Guess the feel of his hand made sense in hindsight. So did the Skinks. But he always was good at hindsight. Once all the mistakes had already been made. No way back now. Just another fuckup ahead. The cooked fucker smelled...edible. Was he supposed to feel...
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    Private know a guy

    „Any thoughtthieves among you?“ Trevor asked offhand. „The lil' amberfuck.“ The lilfuck in question eyed Windstep like he'd remember this betrayal. But fuck that guy. Who cared if you were known as a thief if you were planning on stealing anyway? In front, Laric went on with his benevolent...
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    Private know a guy

    Trevor's lip twisted in unease. Really wasn't the time to play toughguy, unless he was going to whack 'em all. Hopefully not. „Reckon they're fighting?“ „Naah.“ „Good. You still keep booze in your left bo...“ but the flask already shook at his side. It was good to work with known quantities...
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