I Want it All

[Godhand]

Godhand was in something of a good mood that day. He had money in his pocket, a gun in his hand and a song in his heart. What more could he ask for? It was as he considered this that he absentmindedly walked into one of the many shops that littered the Bazaar. He walked around the shelves without much of a purpose to his step before finally approaching the counter and casually drawing a revolver. But before the attendant hold her hands up he simply swung out the chambers and pulled one of the huge .500 Magnum bullets out. He held it out demonstratively for the girl along with the specialized revolver and spoke.

"I'd like to buy a couple of moon clips for this gun. I realize you'll probably have to make 'em from scratch since this is a five chamber gun, but what the Hell. I've got some cash."

He gave the attendant one of his winning smiles and placed the gun on the counter.

[Viola Conda]

The little girl looked to the man before her, eyes glittering in admiration. Not really impressed with the guy so much as the fancy 'toy' he had in his possession. She loved guns, and was enraptured by the click sound they made just before someone's cranium began to rapidly lose fluid. It was like a pretty red rainbow painted on the ground and she giggled at the thought.

"Okay mister!" The twelve year old said with authority. "I guess I can makeshift the clips for you into the design you want. However, I'm not going to create you anything of a shit value for your gun. It deserves a better treatment than what my other so called professors would do. So two clips it is, and how many extra bullets would you like to take with you? One box, two boxes or perhaps four boxes?" She smiled a toothy grin and grabbed a stool so she could reach a cabinet and grabbed parchment and her enchanted writing quill.

"Labor X Hours, add in Materials...oh...whoops. Silly me. Any particular want for the materials?" as she waited her hand began to draw a doodle of a cat with a gun.

[Godhand]

Kids grew up too fast these days. The little girl belonged in a playground or a church, but instead here she was asking him what kind of bullets he wanted and what the moonclips should be made out of. Broke his heart. Not to mention that she had a bit of a mouth on her, too. But what could you do? At her age he had already killed a man so he supposed it was good that she at least kept busy with honest work.

"Just some quality steel, sweetheart. I don't need anything fancy. I don't need any extra bullets, either. I've got more than enough already."

It was true. He had more bullets than he could conceivably use in one lifetime, unless he for some reason decided he should supply a revolution.

"What are you doing working with guns, anyway? Shouldn't you be at school or...Something?"

[Viola Conda]

"STEEL?" The girl complained. "Come on that's chicken shit! Dehlar or bust I say! You don't want steel because it'll just chip and wear away. Dehalr will survive the elements a bit better and repeated abusive use. Come on, don't be a pansy!" She cried out in shock that someone would want steel.

While true steel was by no means a bad choice, the girl had longed, begged to own a gun of her own. She had imagined all the details, the look, the barrel, the loading style, the materials. One day she vowed to earn enough to craft this weapon. But for now her allowance only granted five coins a month. And her parents took three for food and rent. Life sucked sometimes.

She blinked a few times realizing she exploded on the man before her and bowed low in apology. "I'm sorry sir, I get carried away. But as for your question...uh I don't go to school. They told me I was to...how did daddy put it? Demented I think was the word he said, but mommy beat him with a broom for saying it. So ya, I don't go to school. I work here in the shop with my grandpa. He says I'm as bat shit insane as he is. I don't know what Bat Shit does to make people crazy, or what shit really is, but I'm sure it's something really cool if people say it all time. Shit, shit, shitty, shit!" She sang bouncing over to the desk removing the drawer grabbing a piece of parchment and the clipboard.

"Shhhhheeeeiiiiitttttt!" She sang happily as she jumped back on the stool. "Okay, enough with that. Steel," She said lowly full of disgust. "Is right now in prime, so i can cut you a decent deal for that. I won't craft you garbage so I'll be honest when I say I will be giving you the best quality I can muster and charge you for it. But our prices are fair compared to the poopy mick-poopikins across the city." She began doodling a rabbit getting its brains blown out by a .25mm long rifle being held by a fox. She took extra time on the rifle, sighing as she did so.

"So, parts, labor, materials. Say...fudge cakes I'll just charge you for steel," She hissed. "600 or so quote price." She continued to draw. "That is, if you aren't bat shit insane to take that garbage and get Dehalr instead."

[Godhand]

There was something to be said about her mind, but Godhand didn't have time to think about that as she quoted her price. Had she been a man he would have backhanded her.

"Good God! Madame, you're charging me quite a bit for some very simple work! I didn't at all expect this even to break into triple digits. Unless you sell magical moonclips that transport bullets from my bandoleer to my gun without me ever having to reload, I don't see how you can possibly justify such an outrageous price."

The mercenary truly couldn't understand it. The moonclip was, in essence, a very simple thing. He supposed the same could be said of the revolver, but the only reasons those weren't more widespread as well was because of the heavy tax nearly every civilized country placed on them. As far as he knew, however, no such tax had been placed on bullets or clips.

[Viola Conda]

The little girl smiled a bit before whaming her head on the table. "Dammit." She cursed. She really wanted to the funds to buy her new gun, but so far every customer had seen through the lie. Just as well. This guy looked dangerous and ready to kill had she not been twelve. But then again, she banked on that.

"Oh, whoops, wrong decimal point...ha ha." Se laughed carelessly. "Okay mister, two moonclips, lets try 60. You still buying shitty steel?"

[Godhand]

"Man, no twelve year old has ever tried to hustle me before. Tell you what, you give me...", He did some mental math. "Twelve moonclips, and I'll pay you 425 since I was in such a good mood. You can keep the change to spend on some therapy."

[Viola Conda]

The girl looked at sum of money written on the paper. It was a few spare coins, but the comment was a bit rude. Still, beggars can't be choosers. "Okay deal, come back in four days to maek sure the molds are cast correctly. Thank you shit for brains!" She said happily bowing.

"I'm bat shit insane, shitty shitty bats. Fly away and take a shit, shit on your brains!" She sang as she ran to the back with the money calling for her grandfather.

((In no way am I calling you a shit head. I'm just having more fun than I should be with this.))

[Godhand]

He came back five days later. To his surprise he noticed that some moonclips had been conspicuously set aside in a corner of the shop, and without much ado he picked one of them up and place the bullets from one of his guns into the chambers. They locked up just right. He heard the door to the back of the shop creak open and spun on his heels, training the gun on the young girl.

"Give me all your money, sucker!"

The air was dead still for a couple of seconds, but then Godhand just laughed it off.

"Only joking, sweetheart. Yeah, these are some good pieces. How about you throw in a couple of bandoleers and I give you the 425? Unless you want to try and hustle me again."

[Viola Conda]

The girl looked as the gun was pointed to her, her eyes following the movement. It was swifter than the dive of a bird and she longed for the man to pull the trigger, just to hear the loud BANG! sound. But no. He was to polite to blast her tiny head off. Phooey!

She darted behind the counter and smiled as she began to doodle a picture of a pelican being shot by a turtle and enjoyed the stains the ink made where the sea bird's face should have been. She drew the blood a bit more before she nodded her head.

"Sure, why the fuck not. Grandpa needs the cash anyway or he'll shit a storm." She sighed looking up to the man. Then she had a sinister idea. An idea that required cunning and guile, but a plan she intended to realize. "Mister, I have a deal to strike with you. I have currently in my possession the keys to the lock up where extra moonclips, bandaliers, and spare parts for revolvers are located, plus a few other things that you may find useful. Also, my grandpa has been leaving behind his research on making bullets travel through armor with more precision, despite even the sturdiest breastplate.

'So my offer, mister shit, is simple. The keys will be yours, and the research can be given to the dwarves to finalize and made readily available to you. I even know who we could talk to. All I ask in return is you take me with you." Her eyes were swelled with determination, never dropping her gaze from the man before her.

"Don't belittle me in your mind and definitely don't be a fool to pass this up. That's doubling your order, giving you research to currently ridiculously hard to find ammunition, and a travelling partner who isn't some fucking twat off the street. I know when to hide, I know when to keep quiet, and most importantly i know when to pull a fucking trigger. Take me with you," Her eyes began to swell with tears as she looked at the man. She hated her life currently, the boredom, the steady dull hum drum day to day life style of her grandfather's puppet. Her family wrote her off, and she wrote them off as well.

It was all up to the man before her to see whether or not he would take her offer.

[Godhand]

He didn't like seeing girls cry, but on the other hand he'd probably never met a girl quite so Goddamn crazy.

"Listen, honey...Do you know who I am?" Normally he never would have allowed himself to believe he was famous, but the situation was too ridiculous. "Do you know what I do? Or is this just another con? What's the angle; I go in there and hiding behind the door is an ape with a blackjack? No. No, fuck that."

He didn't usually curse in front of ladies, but what the Hell. He picked two bandoleers of the shelf, gathered his moonclips and counted 425 in Coronian marks. With that, he gave quick bow,

"Best of luck to you, madame."

And walked out the door.

[Viola Conda]

The girl tensed her tiny fists into two small balls of hate. "GOD DAMN YOU FUCKER, OF COURSE I KNOW WHO YOU ARE AND WHAT YOU DO! I REALLY DO, AND I WANT TO BE A PART OF THAT! I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU!" She screamed as she watched her one last, desperate chance to leave this dump. She watched as he dropped of the coins, and watched as he casually sauntered down the hills.

"I swear, one day mister...You'll end on the wrong side of a gun and I'll be the one to pull that fucking trigger you cum wad shit for brains." She cursed violently scooping the coins, dropping only one hundred for her grandfather and pocketing the rest.

((Godhand has received an extra 100EXP for being a good sport and good interaction with the bazaar master. Godhand also has a new rival, the Tiny Girl from the Bazaar, who if he ever wants will show up to kill him. Free of charge of course. ;) ))

[Taskmienster]

GP deducted! Exp added!