He lunged again! Rude. Something had to be done. I stepped to the side, again avoiding him. I wasn't a fighter… and would normally loose but this guy? He was just an angry old fuddy duddy. I blinked, and suddenly a flash of colours; from the people around me, and from my own attire - a hand crafted scarf made of the souls of vegabonds, animals and the like. My soul sight. Ahhh…. That explained it. I looked at the man who had a muddy gross green soul, it had tinges of sickly yellow and brownish red, like the colour of dried blood. He was on his last legs, and he had lived an utterly boring life.

“-And that’s why I’m going to gut you, you little wrench!”

I blinked. Shit. Had he been talking? I wasn’t paying attention. “Eteri turn now!” I said as I ducked under his broad swing, placing my bare hand against his chest, I gripped tightly and pulled. His eyes widened as he saw it, his own soul being pulled from his body. Now, I am not a monster, I wasn’t going to rip it right out of him, I was just going to chop a tiny bit of it off. That’d show him!”

“What the fuck is that!?”

By now, we had an audience, a group of half a dozen onlookers who I didn’t really care to pay too much attention to. I wondered briefly if they could see what I saw, if they couldn’t - the scene would have been an odd one. The old man was now on his knees, almost paralized. Blue grey eyes wide in fear. “Stay still.” I said as I reached into my trusty shoulder bag and rummaged around till I pulled out my scissors. I carefully cut into it, shifting along the edges, removing a long strip from his shimmering soul. What would a dressmaker call it? A hem? That was a silly name, edge-bit sounded much more appropriate! I snipped the last bit away and let go of his soul, it slowly came to rest back into his form. He just sat there on the floor, dumbfounded as I put the scissors away then pulled out a small vial. I shoved the long, thin piece of his soul into it. It was too gross to use on me, I had yet to find any soul for me beyond Taka’s. But the part he gave me was safe in my satchel. I wouldn’t make myself anything nor attach anything to myself till I had a full and complete patchwork soul.

The angry red blob excluded, but that wasn’t my fault, it drilled itself into me, painfully so.

I sighed. So much for happy-fun-times. I needed to find Ven, or Barchie. I placed my hands on my hips as I glanced to and fro, now...where was his store? It was… on a street, with people...and that was, practically the entirety of this place. “Ah poop!” I said as I pouted. I was lost.

Oh? The man. Yeh, he was fine. Or will be, he picked himself up, dusted himself off and mumbled some half assed apology before disappearing into the crowd. He lost his oomph. When people lost part of their soul, it affected them differently, some went mad, others became more docile - but rarely did I ever remove enough to cause any lasting effects. Not because I cared, just because I couldn’t be bothered. I only had so many vials, and so little time to purify any of the nasty ones.

I started off, walking in the direction I was facing, it was time to find Barchie’s store. I wrinkled my nose and narrowed my amber gaze as it landed on a strange person, well, bird-person. Birds. I shivered. I hated birds. Always swooping me! What did I ever do to them! Meanies.