Snippet #1782851

There was probably a reason you don't book transport to Lykaurii. It's a bit of an odd thing that you have to be what seemed like being smuggled into a place like Xeffiane. And the odd little dodad's they make you wear on your chest then swear never to take them off or your life would hang in the balance. And to try not to draw attention to yourself. And the pointers on proper etiquette where...odd to say the least but it was the only transport away from the wolves. Some scrap metal merchants let her hitch a lift. She was still confused about all the advice they gave her...

Myu held rather more tightly than usual onto her camera. A small, rectangular device that was about the size of her palm that she was keeping both hands on as she tried to avoid eye contact with all two of the people that have walked down this street. The dark night of this world allowed the neon above her to wash over the concrete under foot. Her already dark brown hair looked black here, her fringe sporting a lock that characteristically curls upwards, regardless of what she does about it. Her leather flight jacket puff up her shadow, cast by the bar's lights. It's then made to vanish by the occasional sparks of a blade-smith sharpening an edge. Quickly, she decides to pocket her camera before looking around for signs. She seemed to relax a little more now that one of her important tools was hidden away. She turns, and turns again, looking up and down the street for anything that might look like a 'hotel' or something similar. No such luck.

"Shit..." She said, ending with a huff and crossing her arms. She looks over to the blade-smith, grubby and lit erratically in his shop with open doors. His shelves and wears flood out into the street, lined with blades of all kinds of sizes. Myu walks over to the man who barely makes a movement from the new attention except a wiggle of his yard-brush moustache. Could have been a spark.
"Hi! Err..I'll looking for a place to stay or something around here. Where would I find some place to stay?"
The Blade-Smith didn't look up from the blade he was inspecting: "Most bars and taverns'll put you up for a few nights."
"Like the one behind me?" Myu asked, happy to be getting somewhere.
"No." And with that, the Blade-Smith returns to his work.

Myu wonders away into the middle of the street again, muttering death threats.