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Smile Like You Mean It (An Insane Demon In Hell)
Avarus Invidia (VI): Fun And Fiendish Finds

Avarus Invidia (VI): Fun And Fiendish Finds

A/N: Due to a tie I compromised and rolled a… haggling check we’ll call it.

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Avarus Invidia (VI): Fun And Fiendish Finds

--- Booker H. Freeman ---

With Lydia occupied by her fitting, he decided to heed the Seamstress’s advice and inspect the wares of this Franklin fellow. Which is how he found himself in a store with a surprising amount of clutter for one trying to get rid of their merchandise. (Something this man clearly needs to do…)

(Greed: Hopefully there’s some kind of treasure hidden amongst all this trash.)

(Is there anything of note?) He wondered as he drifted past numerous blades, firearms, and blunt objects of all shapes and sizes.

(Envy: I’m hearing songs from a few of these, but nothing that really stands out.)

(Gluttony: The blades are fresh, no blood. No history of violence.)

(Wrath: Mettle untested in the end.)

(Pride: For firearms most of these are cheap and mass producible, not the sort of thing to earn a name for itself.)

(Sloth: Point of a gun is an easy kill, not a memorable one.)

(Lust: But if we’re going to get a weapon it needs to be something showy! The kind of thing people will remember for years to come.)

(Pride: Exactly.)

(I suppose that just means we won’t be getting any weapons for ourselves then.) He figured, his claw leaving a deep scratch as he ran one across a metal surface. (Then again I don’t think we need a weapon.)

(Gluttony: Not when we can feel the blood on our hands~)

(Pride: A weapon is a tool, while something memorable would be preferred for ourselves it still possesses value in the right situation.)

(Envy: No different than magic, if a little more limited in application.)

(Wrath: Magic has a cost, might less so.)

(Sloth: Can’t we just let someone else fight for us?)

(Lust: Ooh, ooh, I’m sure Lydia will like a gift.)

(Greed: We’ve Sin to burn, but I refuse to go broke over something idiotic.)

(A fine point…) While he could easily make more Sin by completing another Contract, he very much doubted that would help him much in advancing his own goals of reclaiming what was his.

“Eeep!”

His eyes snapped to figure with large pointed ears and curly black hair that nearly covered their eyes as the man dropped a box full of weapons on the ground.

“Why hello there!” He smiled in greeting.

For some reason this did little to reassure the man as he stumbled back into the wall.

“P-p-please don’t kill me!” The strange fellow shouted, blocking his head.

“Oh, why ever would I kill you?” He wondered with an amused chuckle as he thought of the single line on the list of reasons he could have, namely because (I might feel like it.)

(Sloth: Please tell me you’re not going to pick a fight when we were just talking about the security around this place?)

(Pride: We could take them.)

(Gluttony: They’re all just lambs to the slaughter~)

“If-if you’re not here to kill me, then why?” The timid man trailed off, hand in front of his face.

“Well is this not a shop of fine arms?” He tested a blade on his claw and shaved some of the metal away. (Or something like that…)

“Y-yes sir.” The man nodded, acting in a way he was growing to find delightfully familiar.

(Lust: He’s scared of us like Hemingway! Oh, do you think he knows who we are?)

(Pride: Ah, our reputation must stretch quite far!)

(Greed: Which’ll make it all the easier to haggle our prices~)

“Wonderful!” He grinned, causing the man to flinch once more. “I’m assuming that you are the ‘Franklin’ that owns this shop?”

Franklin mumbled a horrified “He knows my name.” before more audibly answering, “Yes sir!”

“Good! Your store comes well recommended and I do so hope your wares aren’t all so… disappointing…” He admitted as yet another piece of metal failed to keep up with his claws.

“I-I’ve got some better things in the back!” The shopkeep assured him with a nervous smile. “The-the stuff out here is just the cheap stuff, for people who don’t know their weapons and to keep thieves from stealing anything of value.”

“Smart!” He laughed, before tilting his head. “At least until someone comes expecting better quality merchandise. That lot would probably be quite frustrated with the goods you’ve left on display here.”

“J-just give me a moment sir!” Franklin requested before disappearing behind a curtain and into the back of the shop, leaving Booker to once more meander through the poor quality items littering the cluttered store.

The longer he was forced to wait, the more of said trash he went ahead and kindly disposed of it for the timid shopkeep, even if he did leave the waste on the ground. At least until he came across a mannequin with armor of some kind.

(Pride: It’s almost offensive just how low of a quality this is when compared to the work of that delightful seamstress a few stores over.)

(Greed: Her work is worth the money, these rags aren’t.)

(Lust: They’ve no style. No flair!)

When Franklin returned with a stack of boxes, he informed the man that, “If this is the quality of your more defensive goods perhaps you should rethink the wares you sell.”

The shopkeep winced. “Oh, uh, if you wanted armor I’ve got better stuff in the back.”

“No, no. If I want clothing, I’ll go to this delightful seamstress a few stores over.” He assured the man.

“A few shops over… You mean, Leslie?” Franklin frowned (hideously), a sharp contrast to the seamstress -Leslie’s- charming grin.

“Yes, her…” He nodded slowly, thinking about (gutting) the shopkeep in front of him, but wanting to maintain at least a semblance of professionality on this little shopping trip. “You know, when you compare your goods to each other, the quality disparity is really quite obvious. Why if it weren’t for her vouching for the quality of your goods, I’d think you unworthy of being her competitor.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“O-oh…” The shopkeep paled, his eyes wide as he realized the depths of his errors.

(Pride: Hopefully, he’ll treat this as a wake up call and improve his merchandise.)

(Sloth: Or get out of the game altogether.)

“Now then I believe you had something superior to everything else out here?” He inquired with a skeptical grin as he moved to look at the cases Franklin had brought out.

“Y-yes, sir…” The shopkeep nodded, before lining the boxes up side by side and opening them one by one to reveal…

(A flintlock?)

(Pride: A classic, albeit one modified.)

(Sloth: Ammo and reload won’t be too practical though.)

He went ahead and snapped the box shut, enjoying the way Franklin jumped at the sound before moving onto the next case.

(Ooh, a gentleman’s cane?)

(Gluttony: The illusion of civility, before bashing a man’s skull in.)

(Lust: We’d look so dapper with it!)

(Envy: A bit simple though given our existing options.)

He shut the lid, and continued down the line, pausing as he caught sight of a circular object made of something pale with black sigils carved into it.

(Envy: Now this one is interesting. A bone talisman of some kind, could help direct our magic into something more… offensive.)

(Lust: Oh, we could also use it to teach Lydia some tricks too!)

That was a very good point, which is why he left that particular case open. Something that earned a sigh of relief from Franklin even as Booker went on to examine the next case which contained a deck of cards.

(Envy: Magic here too, but… not as strong or as controlled.)

(Greed: A gamble, could be fun, could be a waste.)

(Lust: Uh, we could teach her card tricks? Actually, do any of us know card tricks?)

(Greed: A couple, but nothing fancy.)

He went ahead and closed that one, before pausing at a black book of some kind and removing it from the case to examine the pages. (Is it magical?)

(Envy: Somewhat, but nothing too advanced.)

(Pride: There’s also some technological diagrams here.)

(Interesting,) but ultimately something he could get from a library if he needed to, which is why he returned it to its case before closing it.

Next were a trio of knives of a notable quality, one particularly sharp, one serrated, and one giving off a faint spell song.

(Lust: Ooh, doesn’t Lydia like knives?)

Now that he thought about it she did possess one, even if his recollections did reveal it to be looking a little worn and rusted.

(Wrath: One should always maintain their weapons.)

(Pride: It’s a matter that I’m quite familiar with.)

(Sloth: She’s probably not ready for anything too fancy yet. Keep it simple.)

He removed the sharpened knife with a simple edge, giving it a claw test, before setting it on top of the case when he closed it.

The last two cases that Franklin had brought out, weren’t so much cases to contain items so much as they were more kits of some kind. One filled with a number of bandages and medicines and the other a number of chemicals and plants.

(Pride: A first aid kit, simple but efficient for mending wounds.)

(Gluttony: Also unnecessary with a healing factor.)

(Envy: Unless you’re in a hurry.)

(Greed: Or want to save some Sin.)

(Sloth: The poison kit is more my speed honestly. Slow and steady, just waiting for the hit to drop.)

(Gluttony: Unless they’re more poison than blood.)

Both kits could be useful, but ultimately weren’t something worth spending Sin at the moment given how much he had and how much he already wanted to get.

“The knife and the talisman.” He told Franklin as he withdrew his Collections Crystal from his suit jacket.

“Sure thing sir.” The shopkeep nodded with a relieved smile before offering his hand.

He stared at it for a moment, before glancing at his crystal. (Do I give him this?) He was about to do just that before-

(Greed: Actually, let me handle this. Give you another show of why you should be listening to me more often.)

He reached out, wrapping his long fingers around the shopkeep’s hand. Not even a moment later, he began to feel a stream of power flowing out of his Crystal into the small pool of power within him before moving from his chest, down his arm, and into Franklin’s hand, where it began to feel in a void he was tangentially aware of.

(Greed: And that should do it.)

The shopkeep’s brow furrowed in confusion as the flow of power stopped just shy of filling the void. “What? Uh, sir?”

“Yes?” He smiled, not entirely sure what was going on.

(Greed: Repeat after me: I’m just paying what your goods are worth. Don’t you agree?)

(Sloth: Didn’t we talk about not starting anything here?)

Franklin once more paled as he relayed the message with a smile and a tilt of his head, all while wondering how hard it would be to kill and hide the body in front of him. How long it would take for someone to find the rotting me-

“Y-you’re completely right!” The shopkeep gasped, gripping his wrist as his face twisted in pain.

“I’m glad you agree!” Booker laughed as he removed his claws from the man and let Franklin’s hand go. “If you’re going to be competing with higher quality shops such as dear Leslie’s then you need to lower your prices, improve your quality, or close up shop!”

“U-understood sir.” Franklin nodded, clutching his hand to his chest with a (miserable) frown.

“Wonderful.” He smiled as he collected his purchases, before making his way back to a far superior shop, after a quick detour to pick up a more edible treat for his young companion of course.

One whose seller had a fantastic if tense smile to their face as they took his order and quickly brought it to him while insisting it was on the house when he offered his hand to pay.

It wasn’t even a whole moment after returning before the seamstress -Leslie- stepped out from the back. “Ah, Booker! How was your shopping trip? Did you happen to check Franklin’s shop?”

(Lust: Hmm?)

“Yes, though sadly most of his merchandise was lacking a quality I was willing to purchase.” He admitted with a shake of his head. “I’m aware you sent me his way to try and help the poor boy, but unless he improves his merchandise I doubt he’ll find much in the way of customers.”

“I know, the boy purchases low quality cheap and then tries to sell it at a higher price. I can appreciate the business acumen but the Lanes are not some backstreet pawn shop.” Leslie sighed before putting on a sympathetic frown. “If he wants to compete here he simply must hold himself to a higher standard lest he offend the sensibilities of a Sinner the guards won’t protect him from.”

“Too true, too true.” He nodded back. “Luckily he did have a couple of things that I think young Lydia would appreciate, even if only to ease her into things.”

“I’m glad.” Leslie smiled. “As I said, the boy has potential he just needs to reach for it like your latest companion is trying to do. You’ve an eye for talent you do!”

(Lust:...)

He couldn’t help but smile. “You flatter me.”

(Pride: Oh, do continue.)

“Oh, but speaking of young Lydia,” Leslie began, “she wasn’t quite comfortable with the finest wares I could offer her and I wasn’t quite comfortable with the purely practical wear she requested so I did my best to compromise between our visions.”

“I’m sure your work will be impeccable.” He assured her.

The seamstress waved him off with a titter. “Oh, I’ve no doubt of that. It was a delightful little challenge. While I do love my extravagance it’s still nice to flex my creative muscles in new directions. Boredom is the greatest enemy after all!”

“Ha! Couldn’t agree more!” He laughed.

(Lust: Oh, that’s fun.)

(What is?) He wondered.

(Pride: That our friend here is a delight?)

(Lust: Ah-ah-ah!)

“So uh, how do I look?”

His eyes snapped to the side as he realized, Lydia had walked out of the back wearing new clothes that while not quite as dapper as his own outfit, was still a higher quality than her previous clothing. The pants she wore were strong material, her shirt a comfortable button up, and her coat a delightful burgundy coat that he could hear a faint spell song pouring out from. The thing that stole his attention however was a black half-mask on her face, one in the shape of a rabbit.

“You look fantastic dear, though I do have to wonder about the mask?” He admitted with a tilt of his head.

“Uh, she suggested it… said something about rabbits being your thing.” Lydia shrugged as she removed the mask. “And I don’t know…”

He gave Leslie a curious look, even as the seamstress gave him an innocent smile.

“Oh, you said you were taking her under your wing and making one of your masks was no grand effort.” Leslie explained.

It finally clicked in his head that, (She knows who we are.)

(Lust: Yeppers!)

(Pride: That’s no great revelation. From what we’ve seen with Hemingway and Franklin, we do have something of a reputation.)

(Lust: We do, but she knows more about us than they do.)

(Pride: The question is how much more?)

(Lust: No idea! That’s what makes it so much fun!)

(Envy: And the idiot is unhelpful.)

(Lust: Well, we could ask her what she knows?)

(Pride: Though that risks revealing our… current predicament both to her and Lydia.)

(Sloth: Street rat is willing to follow us, but no idea how far she’ll follow when she realizes we’re faking it.)

(Greed: We can’t risk losing that investment, not yet. We’ve put too much into this for that.)

(Pride: But we also can’t risk losing this opportunity for answers either…)

(Sloth: I don’t know, it’s not my job to deal with people.)

(Lust: Ooh, ooh, that’s my job!)

(Sloth: … Welp, I’m going to go sleep through this embarrassment, you guys can handle this garbage fire. Right?)