#mr.jangles

Not all of which he'd allowed, a few had taken their leave over it — something he didn't particularly mind. No need to conform to rules they couldn't abide by nor would he put the comfort or safety of his own crew in jeopardy over a single entity.

As of that morning he'd put his mind to those who'd figured they could lose themselves into the crowd, dissolve without ever being known or simply those used to a different type of settlement. It didn't matter, he'd learn each individual by face, name and capabilities eventually and he would seek them out if they wouldn't come before him.

It's one such individual that had brought him before one of the tents. Jangles enters without much ceremony, the flap of fabric thrust to the side as he steps inside.

There is a lantern mere inches from his face that makes him recoil briefly, an unnatural greenish light twirls almost invisibly behind the foggy glass. One of his metal fingers taps against the crystal, the light flares. Deep-set eyes narrow before he ducks under it, continuing his way towards the counter.

There doesn't seem to be a salesman, either hidden behind wares, some other compartment of the tent or simply just out of his line of sight.

[Jangles] Y'surely got wares.

Bolframmon appears from out the corner of the tent, his gear and collection scattered about the place and certain spells and barriers have not been set up, bar the dangling lantern of an unusual flame you could be convinced it is just another tent. He is surprised to have a visitor so soon as he has not even put up a sign saying what this place is. He studies the man briefly, clearly seeing from his attire he’s a Dreglander and must be one of the few running this new town. Either that or he’s just a really nosey one who came to see what was about.

[Bolframmon] *he coughs to announce his presence before approaching* I do indeed have wares, sir! Although I must apologise for the state of the place, I was not expecting customer or company anytime soon.

The sound catches Jangles' attention, he turns from the multitude of odd looking wares over to the owner of the place. The Dreglander doesn't hide his brief inspection, his eyes flicking from head to toes and back. He cocks his head briefly, his brow raises just enough to light up his eyes by the reflection of the flame, they flick over to the rest of the tent, his mouth purses slightly making a 'not-bad'-expression.

[Jangles] Tidiness ain't a thing y'gotta fear with me about. Y'do yer business as y'see it.

He steps away from the counter, turning more towards Bolframmon, the glint of the lantern showing his shabby outfit consisting out of a sleeveless vest and a pair of slacks. They might be a desert-camo, though it's difficult to determine whether the plethora of stains is a design choice or the result of wear-and-tear.

[Jangles] It's Jangles, by the way. Ain't here for y'wares. Got nothin' missin' from m'life. Nothing that y'can find in a random tent anyway. Real reason I'm here's t'see if y'got anything missin' on yer own end. Is my job t'see everyone happy an' dandy an' fantastic. Ain't gonna have a sit down and a sob, tho. Just lookin' t'see if yer needin' a supply-a-power or water, really.

Bolf’s faced changes to a surprised expression at Jangles’ offer, he wasn’t too sure what to expect here but the offer of help certainly wasn’t on that list. He smiles as he extends his hand towards Jangles.

[Bolframmon] A pleasure to meet you Jangles, my name is Bolframmon. I appreciate the offer for power and water, but I will be quite fine, I’ve come prepared already. *He looks about his tent again.* Although once this mess is organised and the rest of the tent is set up, I think a drink might be desperately needed.

[Jangles] Basically Bolf then.

He eyes the hand that's inching towards him, he raises his corresponding hand, the metal glinting in the low light of a few lanterns. There is a hesitance in his action as he extends his, a split-second of doubt before he allows the other man to take it.

[Jangles] Ain't a scam that I'm runnin'. Won't mess with y'things and only askin' what's fair in 'xchange. But if y'got it down all's the better for it, 'suppose. Just lettin' y'know it's on the table. We've also got decent tradin' routes outside adda settlement so if yer needin' fer something specific y'can let me settle up arrangements.

A sly grin snakes onto his face as he hears Bolf, his body language becomes a bit more open, stiff muscles in a defensive posture slacking ever so slightly. A satisfied grin ending in a gentle chuckle.

[Jangles] Ain't that what anyone's needin'? We've got a nice diner 'round here somewhere. Good prices, great patron. Or else I'm sure y'can find someone willin' t'trade a decent bottle fer onna y'wares. Just outta curiosities sake… Whadda y'dealin' anyway?

[Bolframmon] A diner? Well, I could use a good meal too, I’ll go have a nose later. As to your other question…

He steps away and gestures towards the various items scattered about, upon looking books of various sizes can be seen, necklaces and earrings are gently hanging of a stand, and some sort of weapon can also be seen sticking out of a barrel.

[Bolframmon] Without the long winded explanation, you can call me a merchant who specialises in magical wares. Relics, spellbooks, enchantments and potions etc. Basically if you need something magic based or need something removed, I’m your man.

Jangles' mouth twitches, like he'd just bitten down on a lemon or set his teeth into something rotten. His hand is quick to retreat to his body, fingers coiling back into his icy palm.

[Jangles]  Fuckin' Benign ain't guidin' shit today! Haddan inkling, yeah.

The curse dies off into a weak sigh. It's a weak lie, an attempt to save face if only for himself. He'd been suspicious of Bolf but for the same reason he is suspicious of anyone not from the Dreglanders. Anyone he couldn't pinpoint with one look.

His gaze goes over the tent and the wares on display again, as if he could see the corruption dripping off of it now, he couldn't. Boxes don't act suspicious when they're different. They might glow or groan but installing a few LEDs or throwing your voice could give you the same effects. Pretend magic was more common in the Dreglands, pretend magic was a niceness, an escape… Real magic was something people would escape from.

[Jangles] Cannai ask y'the keep this on the down-low? Ain't lookin' t'make a big deal outta this… But y'chose a peculiar place t'set up shop. Dreglanders ain't fonda things that ain't… regular. Gotta bad history. If y'gotta sell dancin' candles or self-readin' books don't put them out on the curb 't catch attention. We've gotta rule that keeps us happy: If it don't have t'magic it shouldn't. I don't givva shit what y'do behind these here curtains. I givva shit that my people ain't comfortable. Y'do yer business behind this here cloth and we're all happy an' dandy. That business bleeds out onto the streets and I end up comfortin' a sweet thing and explainin' that there ain't corruption nibbling at their home our bussiness-relations might end up a tad strained. I tend t'snap when I'm put under strain…

Bolframmon raises an eyebrow at the sudden reaction and request, was he afraid of magic? It had been a long time since Bolframmon had been in the west but he swears that they handled the realisation of the arcane better than this. But this man has been polite and he has no intention of causing any trouble yet.

[Bolframmon] *raises his hands in a mock surrender pose smiling at Jangles.* You have my word, sir. My business will only take place in this tent! Your people need not fear me and my wares and it will never get out... Unless you guys want a magic show? I still have the top hat and magic wand somewhere…

[Jangles] Good.

There is a timbre to his voice, a low growl akin to a threatened animal. A defence installed in him from a young age. Something feral that many of his countrymen share with him. His arms twitch, the loose bolts rattle against the metal rods. If he'd still have skin he would have goosebumps by now, how fortunate that metal has difficulties displaying the more minute details of interactions.

[Jangles] No need ferra sharp, condescending tongue. Things don't need 't get hostile neither. Just a word-a-warning… real friendly-like. Things get… uncomfortable when y've only gotta blade and y'know opposite you's a guy that can melt ya with the flick of his eyes. It's better not to let the general people think 'bout such things. Fear tends t'breed stupidity… Ain't nobody served with stupidity.

A deadpan look, almost serious haunts Jangles' face for a brief moment, his eyes crawl up from a point of nowhere and back to Bolf. Upon seeing the man's face his familiar grin places itself on his face once more.

[Jangles] Don't mean drinks're off the table… Might just not let ya get 'm fer me.

At that final sentence Bolframmon does a mock gasp and puts his hand on his heart, but behind the act the gears turn in his mind as he puts together what kind of situation he’s now in.

In short these folk aren’t the biggest fan of magic and sound prone to turn into an angry mob at a moments notice, for now he’ll have to bite his tongue and play nice with the other children.

[Bolframmon] *still on mock gasp stance* Why Jangles! We’ve only met and yet your words hurt me so, *He grins and chuckles.* but your rules and advice are accepted and heard loud and clear, if anyone should ask about me just tell them I sell remedies and random antiques. Would that make you easier, my friend?

Bolframmon's words roll around in Jangles’ head for a brief moment.

[Jangles] I can be a right bastard without even tryin', Bolf.

His grin stands fast on his face, faltering slightly as the topic switches.

[Jangles] Can live with that. I'm sure there's mora yer type skulkin' 'round. These typa places tend t' attract 'em. Y'can deal with 'em, no problem. Y'can sell old shit to Dreglanders if they're into it but if y'know it's magic and they don't… I'm gonna trust y'not to sell it t'them. I don't wanna stick my arm in another wasp nest knownin' 't can be avoided. Dreggies point 'emselves out. If I know of others like yerself I'll let 'em know yer a good one t'interact with.

There is a pause, Jangles fills it the only way he knows how; making odd noises with his arms or clearing his throat. He still feels the dread creep around him, what few and short hairs he has on the back of his neck stand upright.

[Jangles] Gonna wish ya good luck with yer wares then… Suppose I came to say what I hadta… If ya got more questions y'can find me at the general store… The little tent with the hairy elephant in front of it. Y'll find either me or Roan there. Roan always knows where I am.

[Bolframmon] *He bows politely* Thank you, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, no doubt I’ll be around soon to invite you for a drink. *He starts to head back to the far corner of the tent before turning back and smiling at Jangles* And thank you for your warm welcome.

Jangles sets a foot back, his other is quick to follow.

[Jangles] I ain't goin' nowhere. I'll be seein' y'round.

*It isn’t that Amor is afraid of finally meeting the mysterious Mr Jangles, but his brother Vice hadn’t exactly painted a pretty picture. And from what Cassius said about him… “Intimidating but not unreasonable… Seems to want to make this work but there’s… Something. Watch your mouth and keep your eyes peeled” well, it was hardly a shining endorsement.

*He’d dressed up in his best: leather trousers he’d made himself from scraps of hide of various beasts; a tattered, old, vintage leopard fur coat; thick, heavy gold chains around his neck and a pair of his father’s old army boots on his feet. Amor reckons he looks ready for business.

*Respectable, like.

*He ummm’s and ahhh’s for a few moments, dawdling around the tent and wondering exactly how he has to draw attention. Can’t really knock on the door ( “cloth don’t knock” he tells himself sagely) and just walking in seems like a death sentence waiting to happen. So he goes for what he thinks is the most polite option. Hollaring.

[Amor] Ey! Big J! You in there?

*…And heard he is. Behind the thin cloth something shifts but instead of more reasonable feet tapping on scraps of wood it's the ticking and clicking of nails scraping hard against the floor. Brute (recently redubbed 'Waffles') storms out, a huge, lumbering body moving almost too fast for lumpy legs to follow resulting in some split-second adjusting on the spot.

*As soon as small beady eyes catch sight of an approaching stranger, beneath folds of hooded skin, his maw opens to express his loyalty in short and booming barks.

[Roan] Waffles, it's fine!

*The dog silences save for a few disheartened semi-barks blubbering from curtainy lips.

*Another face appears, this time human. Almost hidden behind a layer of fabric covering her hair, ears and neck, beams a bright smile that continues in her eyes.

[Roan] I'm so sorry! I hope he didn't scare you! He's a fussy-pants but not particularly dangerous...

*She steps from beyond the curtain, silver-stained arms moving from behind her back to the front, visibly fidgeting with them if only to draw brief attention to them.

[Roan] I'm Roan, by the way! That's Waffles there! You were kind of screaming so... is something wrong? I'm here to help!

*The appearance of the lumbering beast has Amor stepping back a few paces. Swallowing hard and flapping one hand in front of him whilst the other grips his coat closed as if to protect his tattooed torso. It’s only hearing the woman’s voice that has him straightening up again, almost preening. Rolling his shoulders back and pulling himself up to his full (if not exactly impressive) height.

[Amor] Oh… Ohhhh… Yer not Jangles… But damn am I pleased to see you rather than ‘im. I mean… scrap an’ void, if I had to rate y’from one to ten, I’d ‘ave to give ya a nine…

*Amor grins wide and gestures to himself.

[Amor] Cause I’m the one yer missin’!

*There is a wary glance at the dog before he steps forward and offers his hand, still all grins and good humour despite the animal still being there.

[Amor] They call me Amor, but you can call me any time ya like!

*There is a sweet giggle coming from Roan as Amor speaks, small dimples appearing in her cheeks. Amor's words visibly get to her as she tries her best to hide an embarrassed smile by biting on her lips.

[Roan] That's fine, Love…

*She scratches her throat and moves her eyes over to the dog for a brief moment, trying to gather her thoughts again. The dog is sniffing at Amor from a distance, flabby neck stretched as far as possible without tipping over.

[Roan] Jangles is in the back, but I can call him for you if that's what you want?

*Roan briefly looks over the man, her kind smile still in place, she steps back into the tent for a few seconds, returning with something that crinkles and something that has immediately earned the full attention and respect of the dog. Long ribbons of drool already dangling. She throws it at Amor; an already opened pack of stale waffles. She looks at Amor and directs her attention to the dog again.

[Roan] Give him one and he'll think you're the world or leave you be. Either's fine.

*There is definitely a spark of interest and hope in Amor’s eyes from that one term of endearment. She didn’t say no… Hasn’t rebuffed him with a punch and a curse… “I’m fuckin’ in here!”.

*The bag is caught with a surprised little grunt and he looks between Roan and the dog and then peeks inside the bag. Thing about dogs and girls was that you had to befriend the dog if you wanted to get anywhere with the girl. Beasts were a loyal sort, and he wasn’t going to get his end away if there were teeth in his end.

[Amor] Yeah, if you could be a real sweet thing and let him know that Commander Roy’s son is here, that’d be great!

*There is definite pride in his voice upon speaking his father’s name. Knowing that most would make the mistake of seeing Vice Roy waiting for them, but the brief moment in which Amor knows that they are thinking he is someone of worth… That is a lofty feeling indeed.

[Amor] C’mere, boy…. Got a tasty treat for you!

*One of the stale waffles is broken in half and offered to the dog who happily ambles on over. One half of the pastry goes into the dog, whilst the other half goes into Amor Roy. Food is food and he isn’t going to let it all go into a drooling mutt.

[Amor] So…. You an’ Jangles…. Yanno… Bumpin’ uglies? Or am I good to cut in?

*A quick dip of her head and Roan turns on her heel. A deep breath and she shouts:

[Roan] Visitors! Commander Roy's tadpole!

*She turns back once she hears the sound of Jangles moving and tilts her head sideways at the not-so-subtly chewing Dreglander.

[Roan] Are you hungry? You really shouldn't eat that! I can give you fresh ones if you’d like… We've got them just here! Those are from yesterday so they go to Waffles…

*Her voice hints at genuine concern as she’s already scrambling in the back to retrieve some better food for Amor. Yet as she returns she stops upon hearing the question. The beginning of a shudder settles in her back and evolves ultimately in a look of horror and a twitch of her head.

[Roan] Jangles and me… Chargehand no… Oh no. He's- He's looking out for me. That's all. There's nothing there… At all.

[Jangles] ‘Xcept f'some kindness an' a helpin' hand.

*The man appears from behind the thin cloth and stares down at Amor with a hardened gaze that only cracks to a smile upon seeing that familiar leopard-print (though in more quantity) and yappy confidence he once saw in the man's twin.

*He strides forwards, metal arm snaking around Roan to snatch the packet of waffles out of her hands. He looks at it briefly before throwing it back at her.

[Jangles] Don't, y'll feed 'im t'death.

*His eyes return to Amor and his hand waves in a half-hearted gesture.

[Jangles] The other other 'Mister Roy'…

*His voice is merciless yet holds a tinge of joy.

[Jangles] A pleasure t'finally meet the man behind the stories. The resemblance to yer brother is uncanny.

*Amor stops chewing on the stale waffle for a brief moment to consider her words. It tastes okay and the dog seems fine so… He’d eaten worse. But he swallows his mouthful and tosses the rest of the food to the dog. Who of course happily wolfs it down. Amor even goes as far to pet the animal’s head when it comes snuffling along at his hip with the hopes of more. It isn’t that he disliked dogs, but he’d all too often been at the wrong end of a guard dog while he’d been stealing their master’s jewels.

[Amor] So… Y’single?

*Brushing crumbs from his beard and unable to keep the hopeful lilt from his voice. However, he soon shuts up pretty quick when Jangles makes himself known. Eyes widening a little as he takes in the man and in that moment believes every single thing his brother had told him.

[Amor] Uh… Yeah. ‘part from the fact I’m the better lookin’ brother!

*He manages a wide grin as he approaches the man, wary of how he is looming over him and looks like he kills things with his bare hands, His own hand offered now and Amor is proud that it didn’t tremble.

[Amor] Heard you already met me… Uh… Man Servant. He’s a good lad, don’t say much, but don’t need t’speak to get the van set up.

*With Jangles' appearance Roan as good as removes herself from the conversation, standing to the side, returning to a tedious work of picking things out of boxes and distributing them amongst the row of smaller ones stashed on their display tables. Occasionally her eyes shoot up to both men, still listening. When Jangles is busy with the newcomer she puts the waffles on the edge of the table, indicating to Amor he's free to take them when he wants.

*Jangles, on the other hand, shows no change, closing the distance between himself and Amor as he takes a hold of the hand, his metal digits loosely closing around Amor's. No use in testing a home-grown Dreggie with metal arms. A lot of them are cradled by them as kids by family or close friends, after all.

*He scoffs briefly, an eyebrow raising.

[Jangles] If't makes y'happier… sure.

With the handshake concluded he distances himself, looking briefly at the work Roan's doing. The two catch each other's eye and Jangles only gives a lazy nod, turning back at Amor.

[Jangles] Yeah, Cas something-or-other. Seems an okay guy, don't seems like the dust-kickin' type so I ain't got any problems with him.  

*He remains silent, hooded eyes pointedly looking over the reject-leopard before returning to scanning the camp.

[Jangles] How're the Roys anyway? And what's a home-grown boy like y'self doin' out here in these wastes? Didn't expect t’see any new folk from back home, truthfully…

*It takes Amor a little while to come back to the conversation at hand. Allowing himself to glance over at Roan… And then letting that glance become a loving, verging on leering scope of the woman from the top of her head down to her feet and then back up again. Taking in all the little details and wondering what she’d look like beneath him swathed in faux silk sheets.

[Amor] State Bred but Dreggie raised, y’won’t ‘ave any problems from me boy.

He finally tears his gaze away from Roan and shoves his hands into his pockets with a slight shrug.

[Amor] Pa is still puttin’ the fear o’ the gods inta all the new recruits… An’ most’a the old ones. Ma is runnin’ th’roost. An’ Vice is absolutely fuckin’ killin’ it as General. Yanno, there’s rumour that he might actually make Commander before he’s forty. How fuckin’ awesome is that? As fer me… Makin’ my own way, y’know? Army wasn’t fer me. Good for many folks, but dint sit well w’ me.

*Unable to resist anymore, Amor saunters over to the table and picks up the bag of waffles that Roan has left out for him. Catching the woman’s eye and giving a slow wink and a nod as thanks. Languidly leaning back against the table and letting the coat fall open. Displaying bare torso decorated with gold chains and tattoos for her to peruse should she want to. And Amor really hopes she wanted to.

[Amor] Travellin’ man fer hire now. Y’need someone to get a good kickin’? I’ll give ‘em a good kickin’. Lot extra if ya don’ wan’ ‘em to get back up again, if y’know what I mean…?

*He waggles his eyebrows in Roan’s direction before finally turning his attention back to Jangles.

[Amor] Do me little magic shows too. Yanno like… Find the lady and what’s your card? Nice little money spinner on the side.

*The attention for Roan is well and truly noted, the girl often peeking up and smiling shyly at the boisterous man parading around like he owns the place. Still, she holds a tinge of fear in her eyes as they dart back to the true owner of this entire ramshackle community. When Jangles is otherwise occupied she dares to return the glances coyly.

[Jangles] State don't seem to raise loud-mouths. My mom used t'be State 's well, gotta drag the words from 'r mouth if y'want 'em. Though sure as fuck don't make ‘em innocent.

*He turns back from his little overwatch-position as Amor is moving, his eyes narrow at the display, at the attempt of peacocking the man is indulging himself in. He coughs, following the young man's every move.

[Jangles] Ah well, t'each their own. No sense in draggin' y'corpse out to practice each day if y're not into it. Won't do you nor yer buddy any good when y're out there and gettin' shot at. Ain't like y've got much space in y'brain t'allow f'minor things like watchin' someone's back f'more reasons than t'enjoy the view…

*Jangles' eyes veer from the girl to the man, the atmosphere at this point almost tangible but it is the man's challenging posture that puts a wicked thought into his mind. He saunters over to the leopard-print-human until their knees almost meet. His arms are crossed and his head tilted sideways. He makes a scene of turning his head to look at Roan, the girl shies away from it, eyes focussed at the torch in her hands, fingers wringing around the textured plastic.

[Jangles] Y'd a look at Roan yet? Ain't she a fine beastie? Listens real well, good-manners f'what she is, too. Look at 'r squirmin' like a worm onna hook. Y'see the twinklings in 'r eyes? Oh she is lovin' the attention right now. Might wanna lock yer door tonight. She might come beggin' t'be let in like a lost pup… and then she ain't leavin' neither. 'S like an animal… Does that 'imprintin'' thing on anything that looks at her all friendly-like.

*The girl reels back, eyes wide and stance panicked.

[Roan] Jangles! N-no, Jangles. No, I'm not.

[Jangles] Don't y'fuckin' lie to me, wretch!… Y'made 'r lie to me, Amor. She's gotten so hot 'n bothered that she don't think straight anymore.

[Roan] Am n-not a wretch!

[Jangles] Shut up! Now, Amor… My friend and good companion, Amor. I ain't lookin' t'make relationships strained, 'specially not wi' countrymen… So lemme make a thing clear. My Roan; my sweetest, darlingest idiot-kid of a Roan ain't gonna make a decent wife… She ain't even gonna give y'a decent fuck neither.

*He leans in closer, close enough to make Roan gasp audibly.

[Jangles] Y'kno who ain't gonna get up 'anymore if y'stick yer dick in that? 'S gonna be you, buddy. Things happen when she gets all emotional and bullshit. Things y'don't wanna see and things I ain't gonna concern myself wi’anymore neither. Hope yer man-servant really enjoys scrubbing up blood 'cus that's what he's gonna hafta do when she's done.

*There is a slight pause before his face breaks open into that serpentine smirk, slightly too wide to be comfortable.

[Jangles] Should the ribbons of y'body still be attached 'nuff t’move, don't come crawlin' over t'me askin' for help. Just a word o'warnin', real friendly-like.

*He pulls back again, his feet still in the same place yet in one fluid motion his hand moves up towards Amor's face resulting in only a friendly pat on the man's cheek.

[Jangles] Let this one slide, trust me on that one.

*Amor has been so busy checking out every angle he could see on Roan that he didn’t notice Jangles getting closer. Too busy being utterly delighted every time she throws a glance his way that by the time he’s giving the other man the attention he is due, Jangles is far too close for his liking. There is nowhere to go as Jangles knees knock up against his, but despite this, Amor still tries to scurry back. But sadly for him, this only results in him hoisting himself up onto the table.

[Amor] Woah… Woah… Ok, Big J… I dint mean no harm or nuthin’. She’s a pretty girl, an’ I’ll be honest wi’ ya, been a long time on the road, yanno?

All the colour has drained from his face and to his shame, there is the slightest tremor in his voice and a tremble in his hands.

[Amor] Not gonna hurt her! Not that kinda guy! Y’know me family. Y’know me brother. Apple don’t fall to far from the tree, y’get me? My Ma find out I mistreated a lady? I’d be a dead man!

*But Jangles meaning slowly begins to sink in and Amor finds himself turning to stare wide-eyed at Roan. She is magic then? Like him? Not entirely like him… He is pretty sure of it. But… Roan and Jangles relationship is starting to make sense and Amor’s mouth became dry. His tongue swollen and laying, for the first time in forever, silent and still. The only sound is the hammering of his heart against his ribs. A sound that he is sure Jangles could hear.

[Amor] …..Lets…. Just… Take this down a notch, yeah?

*A deep breath and he was looking between the distressed girl and smirking man.

[Amor] First of all… Don’t call her a wretch… That’s not cool, man. She deserves as much respect as anyone. Would yer Mama let you say shit like that about ladies? Y’know she’d tan yer hide if she heard that. I know my Mama would.

*He licks his lips as he tries to keep his voice steady. Holding his hands up in surrender. Trying to look as innocent and harmless as he can; despite the power crawling underneath his skin. His emotions at a dangerously high level and his magic crawling towards it as a terrifying rate.

[Amor] Not thinkin’ about wives, not yet… Got a bit of the wild still in me, y’get me? An’ if she don’t wan’ me in her bed then, all she has to do is say. Not in the business of forcin’ meself on women. Don’t need to, yanno. Got ‘em linin’ up to see what I can offer. But… Y’tryin’ to tell me somethin’, an’ trust me on this, I hear ya. But… We don’t gotta get all messy like…

*The slice of space that Jangles has allowed is enough for Amor to get his breath back. And he swallows that new air greedily. Filling his lungs as he pushes that crackling power down down down.

[Amor] I got a coupla bottles of the good stuff from back home. Me Pa’s own brew, ya know the stuff. I say once everythin’s all set up an’ we have a spare hour or two, we try this again. Be all friendly-like.

*There it is… That feeling of cornering a person. Sensing someone's pounding heart as clear as his own. The tremble in their eyes, the sound of a tongue ripping from the dry flesh of their own mouth and the slightly acrid smell of fear emanating from them. Jangles only just suppresses a shudder of delight at this little display of power. This isn't hunting, this is business. He'd learnt not to enjoy business or at least not show it.

*Yet as the man before him slowly collects himself he finds himself only sighing in annoyance. The man clearly had too much brown, blonde and black dye on his head to make anything stick.

[Jangles] Call a pig a pig. Makes taggin' 'em that much easier. But here’s me feelin’ y'didn't quite get the memo…This-

*He feels the electricity surging to his fingers, clenching them as tight as he'd ever had, balling his fist, trying to make his point so that the youngest Roy would know. But to anyone's surprise, perhaps even Roan herself, she speaks up, she makes herself known and Jangles finds himself lowering his arm, looking at her. She's found what little courage she has left, feet planted firmly on the ground and shoulders stiffened, ready to catch any blow that might come her way.

[Roan] Jangles… This is a new start, for me… for you. You'd promised me. A new start means new scenarios… A lot of stuff I have to figure out… by myself. And a lot of stuff you've gotta figure out still… I won't-…

*She makes a motion with her head, clearly embarrassed or unfamiliar with the subject.

[Roan] Y'know… Get-into-bed-with-him… But there's no harm in being friends, right?

*She waits. The seconds feel like hours as she tries to gauge his reaction. How  will this pan out? She knows him well enough but he remains whimsical when angry. Jangles is scrutinizing her, his small eyes narrowing even further. His face expressionless before that sickle-like smirk appears again like a crack of thunder. Roan can feel her bursting lungs releasing all pent-up air in a second.

[Jangles] Sure, pup, sure. You do you. Y'know my stance on it. He's heard what he needs t'make the right choices 'n life. It'll all be in the hands of stupidity now…

*The tension remains in the air, all three - no four of them notice it, as even Waffles— standing off to the side— has the hairs on his back standing as straight as candles.

[Jangles] Y'go 'n make friends, Roan. Just make sure y'finish the packages first… An' tell me when y're off. Wouldn't want to leave the shop unattended, now would we? Would we?

*Roan merely shakes her head and Jangles takes it for as good an answer as he's gonna get. Amor gets a small nod and friendly tilt of his head before the man makes an exit, clearly at a loss of how to properly handle this.

*The girl stands to the side, holding her one hand still with the other as she is still trembling on her feet. A light, relief laugh comes from her lips before looking back at Amor.

[Roan] I-… I'm sorry, Amor. You get… used to him after a while… He can run a bit hot and needs to vent it all. I-I'd love to take you up on the bottles though! And a card-trick!

*The very air is crackling around them. His own power pulsing and fluttering and desperate to get out. Be free. To tear down the walls of the tent and drag furrows through the ground. It demands destruction in the only way Amor has taught it how. But not now. Not here. Not while they are in this place. He’d promised himself and he’d promised Cassius. No trouble. He is going to behave. No one can find out what he is. Not even Roan. There is a warmth in his belly though, that knowledge that he isn’t alone in this world. That even though he can never tell her, she exists. And for now, that is enough.

*His legs shake and even his hair tremors from roots to tips, Amor slides himself off the table and slinks around Jangles warily. The man’s moods seem to change like the tides and he can absolutely see why Vice said he’d kept him on his toes. A devil-may-care smile somehow finds its way onto his lips. Checking one last time to see where Jangles is going before sidling up to Roan. His hand going into his back pocket and bringing out a deck of cards.

[Amor] Got all sorts of tricks, sweetheart. Bet I could keep you entertained for a good, long time. I got a show that’s hard to beat. Wan’ me to show you a special somethin’ now?

*Seeing Amor jumping back up and actually smiling only encourages Roan to keep the conversation going instead of hastily ending it while hoping she wouldn't have to hide behind Jangles as he convinced them to leave her be, all while bearing that know-it-all gleam in his eyes… Making her bear the knowledge that she wasn't and never would be like the rest. Still the fact that Amor jumps up as he does and remains while being a Dreggie surprises her, in a pleasant way. Perhaps only Jangles’ little pool of friends have that look on their face like they are witnessing a bloody murder at the mere mention of her name.

[Roan] Oh, I'd love to!

*Her sweet smile in place and her own eyes gleaming with excitement and curiosity, she only has eyes for the deck of cards in Amor's hands.

Those hands are deft and nimble as he goes through a few fancy shuffling techniques. And some that are more than fancy. Some that are helped along by his own power, making it look like the cards flip and spin and turn around the deck. It looks impressive but could still be explained away if Amor needed to.

[Amor] Ok, hot stuff! Pick a card, any card! I will amaze and astound you!

*As soon as Roan chooses her card, Amor scribbles something down on it with a chewed up pencil, explaining that is to further prove it is her card and not just an extra he happens to have. Making sure to concentrate on it and wraps a tendril of his magic around it as it’s slid back into the deck.

[Amor] And now we just give it a lil’ shuffle, get it all nice an’ cosy in there.

*He takes a step closer, speaking low and soft as if they are sharing a secret. Something intimate and just for them. Amor’s control over his telekinetic power has the card slipping and dancing up to the top of the deck no matter how much he shuffles and splits and fans the cards. He bites down on his lower lip to stop the grin from spreading as he brings out the card with a flourish.

[Amor] Is this your card?

*He holds up the card in question, hoping that only she can see the crude map he’d drawn on its face. A circle around a square with an arrow pointing to it saying ‘my place. 10pm.’

*Four of hearts, what a card to pick out of the numerous others she could've picked, well the ace of it's family might've been a bit more alarming. With interest and anticipations she watches the man at work, writing down something before slipping it into the stack, seemingly lost forever. The speed and fervour behind his twirling shuffling indeed amazes and astounds her. She can hardly focus on the bits of cardboard flying about.

*It's with some sense of skepticism that she looks at him grabbing one of the cards yet as it turns to her there it is, four of hearts. She nearly hops up in excitement, clapping her hands before something catches her eye. A red blush of shame reaches her cheeks when his fingers point beneath — what she assumes is— a sentence or bunch of letters behind each other. She sees the 10 but beyond that is pretty much lost.

[Roan] That was amazing! But -eh… Well… My parents were just factory workers. I didn't get the whole 'school'-thing growing up. Y'mind readin' that aloud to me?

*Amor’s shoulders sag a little as he is sure this little romantic gesture would have worked a charm. A glance to find Jangles, before he decides ‘fuck it’. He leans in, one hand pressing to the small of Roan’s back as he pulls her in closer. A quirk of a smile on his lips as he lowers his head to her ear. Lips brushing the sensitive shell as he murmurs low.

[Amor] That there is a little route to my passion wagon. Come and see me tonight, ten o’clock. And I’ll show you a whole load of magic. Got some fun tricks I’d like to show you. Really make the night go off with a bang!

*She’d told Jangles that she won’t be getting into bed with him, but Amor didn’t take that as an actual no to him. Unless she shut down his advances to his face? Still open season as far as Amor is concerned. For all he knows, Roan could have said that to Jangles just to get the guy off her back.

[Amor] Y’said ya had stuff to figure out… Nothin’ like a few new experiences to really get things goin’.

*Amor stays close for a few more moments before he finally takes a step back. Carefully reaching out to take Roan’s hand and presses the card into her palm, curling her fingers around it. A wink and a grin before raising her hand to his lips and kissing the knuckles.

[Amor]“I’m lookin’ forward to seein’ ya, sweetheart.

*The sudden closeness of Amor startles Roan for a brief moment, the feel of fingers at her lower back even making her jump, yet as she feels his broader body against hers it has that bit of familiarity she knows from Jangles — well when he wasn't an aggressive dick. When he is friendly and when those hugs are comforting.

*She scratches her throat at the less than subtly-worded entendre. While she is naive there has yet to be born a person to be so naive as not to catch the intentions behind those words. A disappointed sigh rolls from her mouth. The delicate kiss on her knuckles only further beating the message home.

[Roan] Amor… I think I know what you're trying and… I don't think I can. It's a bunch of reasons and-… I do think Jangles has a point. B-but we can be friends and kind of see what happens? Getting drunk with Jangles is fun so I reckon getting drunk with you'd be even more fun! Y'know… Just… Let me find my feet before sweeping me off of them?

*A toothy smile and delicate innocence brightly on display within her big eyes.

*It still wasn’t a no… Perhaps a not right now. A maybe. A later on. But he was great company and he had great booze, really it would be a great oddity if she continued to be able to resist his charms. And all she was presenting to him right now was a challenge. Something that he was ready to meet head on. Ready and willing and there was excitement dancing in his eyes.

[Amor] Far be it from me to try and force a lady, sweet darling. I’m well into you, that can’t be denied. Prettiest little thing I’ve seen for miles and miles. An’ I like a girl who speaks her mind, y’gotta lot o’pluck. Me an’ you, we’re gonna have a good time. An’ it don’t have t’be between the sheets, baby.

*They’ve been there a grand total of one whole hour and already Amor has gone wandering. Cassius feels that perhaps he should be grateful that he stuck around fifty minutes longer than he was expecting, but still. Being left to set up the army truck to look more like a small stage and ‘magical’ trinkets stall whilst his companion is out exploring is not his idea of a good time. But… He owes him more than could be weighed in gold, so…

Turn Twist Thread Tug

*Slumping against the truck as he knots and ties rope to hold down the canvases to create a makeshift canopy, the Ward tries to keep a neutral expression and not allow his irritation to show.

Turn Twist Thread Tug

*But really, he supposes he was allowed to be a little annoyed. For a man who has a lot to hide, Amor has a tendency to go running head first into trouble rather than keeping his head down and just letting Cassius watch his back. That’s what he was built for. Meant for. If Amor didn’t allow him to just do his job then…

Turn Twist Thread Tug

*It is ridiculous. Amor is ridiculous! This whole situation is ridiculous! He’s been saved from luxury to be sentenced to following around that gaudy, Chains’ damned, leopard-spackled rat-bastard Aberrant…!

Turn Twist Thread Tug

*His lip curls ever so slightly as he gets up and swings the canvas into place. Stomping around the truck as he makes sure everything is settled and tugs the old iron pegs from the makeshift satchel sling hanging around his neck. Perhaps he looks a little shamefaced at having even thought that particular slur. But it has been a long journey and really, he is tired. Looking after Amor Roy is more trouble than it is worth sometimes. Arm raised with hammer in hand and the other holding the peg steady, he pauses as a shadow falls over him and his work. Lips part to speak, but then clamping shut again. Instead looks to the other with a questioning look in his eyes.

*It is a really hard thing to miss. Amongst a sea of vehicles, mounts and carts this one stands out like a sore thumb. It’s that rusty-trusty Dreglands-make. An image that both portrays a sturdy vehicle capable of hitting a sizeable tree and shrugging it off; as well as a fragility that it might crumble to useless parts the second the wind blows a bit too hard.

*As familiar as the thing might be and as pleased as Jangles is to see another person from the same stagnant mud-pool as himself… its appearance does little to assure him. He didn't expect other Dreglanders to pop up this soon… This isn't claimed territory and all who'd shown interest in this endeavour had been accounted for.

*Curiosity has gotten the better of him after an hour and he stalks down to the communal area, chest puffed, head tall and eyes cast just over people's heads. A heavy brow casting deep shadows in his sockets. His bionic arms swinging along to powerful steps, loose nuts rattling gently against their bolts.

*He pauses as the individual doesn't register the sound of his namesake, a framework of metal folds itself in front of him until he finally catches the stranger's attention. A few fingers raise from their position in a half-arsed greeting.

[Jangles] Y'be needin' some help there…?

*Cassius becomes carefully still. Facial expression unreadable as he studies the man before him. Tucking both pegs and hammer into the sling, he brings himself to his full (impressive) height and wipes his hands on his thighs. Unsure of what to do without Amor by his side to do all the talking. He recognises the voice. It is one of the voices in the message his Dregland-companion had insisted on following up on. So Cassius assumes this man was the Authority.

*An Authority figure is one whom he can engage with. Use his voice. Even though he’d really rather not. The right hand side of his body feels cold and alien as there is a leopard-print adorned shape missing. Cassius isn’t used to make decisions on his own. Even when he is making decisions for Amor. It is still with the man present and involved.

[Cassius] Think I’ve got it covered. Who am I addressing?

*The shift of Jangles’ neck craning back to remain eye-contact with this stranger is one he is rather unfamiliar with, a small smile settles on his lips to further welcome the potential-Dreglander. It is however when the man opens his mouth that the smile wilts away.

[Jangles] Well now… 'addressin'…

*His head cocks to the side, deep-set eyes almost dramatically shifting from the unmistakable truck to the individual before him.

[Jangles] I've heard some Dreggie-accents 'fore but y'ain't Dreggie, can tell y'that.

*He twitches the remaining muscles attached to the iron-shop on his torso, once more jingling them.

[Jangles] I'm Jangles, I reckon y'followed the broadcast here? That lovely voice's entirely me. Now if y'd let me be a bastard and shoot back the same question… Worded a bit less stuffy tho. Perhaps work in how a stuffed shirt like yerself gets hold offa Dreglands truck, that'd be real sweet.

*Cassius takes a few moments to simply take the other man in. From his bionic arm to the sharp eyes that study him right back, Jangles isn’t like anything he’s seen before. And he’s spent quite a long time living in the Dreglands now. Chop-shop limbs and rust-dusted skin have become commonplace. But this man…? Looks a little different from the rest. Is something about him that… Never mind. It isn’t his place to ask or to insinuate. Every man is a predator in his own right. Pointing out that this one seems to have dagger-teeth and a serpent’s tongue would seem rude.

[Cassius] I did. We did. My…

*Friend? Boss? Owner? Cassius is unsure of how to explain Amor to this stranger. They’ve played many different roles with each other over the years, each one a disguise, each one to keep the other safe. But they hadn’t really made plans for what to do in this arena. Amor’s head too full of other plans and Cassius all too willing to just follow his lead.

[Cassius] ...Companion and I heard your message. I am Cassius, Mr Roy’s… Ward.

*What caught Jangles off guard was a niggling little name he was all too familiar with. His lips curl back in a wide smirk.

[Jangles] Vice? Vice Roy?! Vice's always had a dull taste, hadn't quite figured he'd find it in a Ward, mind yeh. Where's the snippy yapper anyway? Lil’ fuck's doin' me a disservice not sayin' hi to 'Mister Jangles' 'pon arrivin'.

*There was also that little word that explained so much yet held surprisingly little meaning to Jangles: 'Ward'. He's seen them in all shapes and sizes, all faiths and believes. From them finding stragglers to the bastards finding them as deserters. Seemed they kept popping up years after the motherlands had groaned its last breath.

*He looks over Cassius again, his head tilting forward and back. The man surely is impressive in size and width, not a real wonder he'd survived Mother getting her teeth kicked in. Man has done a decent job of at least trying not to show he'd been catwalking shirts and uniform pants his entire life.

[Jangles] Wherever he is lemme take some o' my words back and welcome y’properly in our little home away from home. Welcome, Cass.

*His bionic creaks as it untangles. A cold, metal hand extending in kindness.

*It would be impolite to simply ignore the hand outstretched in welcome. And even though Cass’s skin prickles at the mere thought of taking ahold of that metallic hand, he does so. Chin raising a little to add the slightest fraction of extra height. Shoulders rolling back ever so slightly. Making himself look bigger as if Amor was standing right beside him and needed Cassius’ bulk to cover him.

*There is a flicker of shock in bright blue eyes as the brother is mentioned. A twin but declared elder. Two minutes and forty-two seconds. A mantra he has heard banded back and forth on many an occasion. And this man knows him. A flicker of an image in Cassius’ mind. The man who owns the truck. Has seen him behind the wheel on many occasions. Worn, tired old camo-gear and occasionally something that passes for a General’s uniform. The army has matured him in ways that Amor has not lived through.

[Cassius] Amor Roy.

*A twitch as he makes it known in the slight tremor of his arm that he’d like his hand back. Ready and willing to attack should the name of the younger Roy develop a sour taste in Jangles’ mouth.

*There is a challenge behind Jangles's handshake, a test as his skeletal fingers envelop Ward-skin and press down slightly harder than he would otherwise have. When his bionic rattles just that slightly bit harder, when he lets his rickety wrist beat it further into this man that he isn't in the Capitol any longer.

*A good-hearted, if a bit chaffing test that allows him to see just what this man is  made out of. Just a run-of-the-mill Ward who'd retract his arm like it touched a hot plate or one of those who slipped as easy into the Dreglands-lifestyle as in another pair of pants. The latter did often lack the pronounced tongue of Cassius though.

*He's looking over the Ward's face, checking for any sign of discomfort, his sadistic little smile in place as always. If a man couldn't tease a ward what could he do? However his little cruel joy was swiftly forgotten at the mention of the other Roy…  

I*t takes less than a second for his face to go through shock, confusion only to settle on a wry smile.

[Jangles] Well y've gotta excuse me for t'mistake… There tend t'be only two 'Mister' Roys 'round… An’ one o' them's older than me.

*The challenge is noted and there is a glimmer of Cas’s own in the darkening of his eyes. There will be no making enemies here, not if Cassius can help it. But walking the last five years with Amor has made him more paranoid and suspicious than all the Citizens and their secrets this world can show him. There are people out there who will cut you down on an order. For being… Different. For something that you can not help. Years ago, Cassius would have been one of those people. Someone who would have been a danger to his charge. But his eyes are opening wider every day and the things he has seen… Jangles would have to try a little harder than a firm handshake. As soon as his hand is released, Cassius does not tear it away. Simply moving so that both arms are by his side. Standing to attention. Waiting.

[Cassius] The Commander and his son, the General. I know them well.

*The Roy twins’ father is a stoic man, but despite a shaky start has never treated him badly. Has many kills to his belt and has lead an army of Dreglanders. The toughest man Cassius has ever met. However… It is the mother he fears. As well anyone should. If Vice is his father’s son, then Amor is his mother’s boy. And many will meet the knife strapped to her thigh should anyone touch him.

[Cassius] Amor is a good man. An honest and just employer.

*Not exactly a lie… He wouldn’t call Amor completely honest… And just is pushing it a little… And… He isn’t really his employer… Okay, so that whole sentence is completely fabricated. But it sounds good.

*The Ward succeeds. He's the best Jangles could've hoped for. His nose not stuck in his ass, actually useful but not a trouble-seeker neither. Despite Vice's moaning about his brother, this one time it seemed the 'youngest' Roy knew what he's dragged along on his new outing.

[Jangles] Good, honest an' just… Ain't he just a dream come true…

*He mulls the words in his mouth, not the words he'd last heard Amor been described as, but not his place to make judgements based on Vice's griping and teeth-clenching. He'd have a look at the other Dreggie-leopard on his own time.

*Jangles shakes his shoulders loose, feet moving towards the truck, his head bend down and shoulders hunched, scanning the frame for a touch of white paint, a hint of a serial mark.

[Jangles] Y'know 'em well 'nough t'realize that they'd be smarter than to lend military-gear on whatever yer purpose here might be? Don't think Amor's made it through the ranks since last I heard Vice curse his name...

*His body stiffens and there is a spark of worry in his eyes. Amor hadn’t asked his brother to borrow the truck. A post-it note and an x under his name doesn’t really count as asking. But Amor has assured him it would be absolutely fine; that his brother wouldn’t be angry. And if he did get angry, it wouldn’t be for very long. Amor is sure of it. By the time they got back, he would have forgotten all about it. And it wasn’t like their father couldn’t lend Vice something if it was needed.

[Cassius] Business between the brothers is none of mine. And I certainly do not meddle in the affairs of the father. I am merely Mr Roy’s Ward

*Belonging to. Owned by. Indebted to. But in ways that didn’t leave a bad taste in his mouth. Not like his previous owners. Only one secret to keep. And none that were like rusted nails through an already fragile mind.

[Cassius] The army did not call to Mr Roy… My Mr Roy, I mean…...

*Jangles stops, one finger tapping at the glass of the headlight.

[Jangles] Heard nothin' seems t'call t'Amor… Well 'sides his dick an' a nicely shaped gal. Gotta be a nice life, don'ty think Cass? Lookin' out for nothin' but that empty space in yer bed at night.

He has a smirk and his reptilian eyes glisten deep in his skull.

[Jangles] Don' really care… Perhaps a bit jealous, but not my business.

His neck cranes back to the grounds of the settlement, specifically to the large board placed in the midst of it detailing the rules in writing and crude images.

[Jangles] The noticeboard just might… We ain't lookin' for more trouble t'be added on. Got a full schedule as is. Don't start any shit or drag any shit inside y're not willing to finish whilst lookin' at my face wearin' it's prettiest scowl.

*He doesn’t work well without Amor by his side. And it isn’t the first time that Cassius has realised this. Only a handful of times has Cassius been in the position where he had to act alone. Without order. Amor does not give orders, but there is a comfort in his presence. Something warm and… Oddly inviting. Makes the cold marble of his skin feel something other than the plastic sheen of man-made toy. Makes him feel like a real person with a real personality and a real life and a…

[Cassius] He is a great lover of women. Likes a comfortable life. Has made sure that I too am comfortable.

*To call the persistent parody of flirtation and cheeky grins the combination that makes a great lover of women is pushing it a bit. But there is something in Cassius that makes him want to defend Amor. Even though it would be much easier to simply shrug and agree with Jangles’ words.

[Cassius] We’re not here to cause trouble, Sir. We wish to make trade. Nothing more.

*If Jangles has caught any defensiveness in the words of the Ward he doesn't show. Instead he simply smiles, eyes relaxed and mouth stretched just a tad too far for normalcy.

[Jangles] 'The beasts pushed the farthest love their commanders the most…'

*The Dreglander muses with a sharp tongue.

[Jangles] Ain't the State anymore, Wardling. The other Roy won't break if he'd help out in getting y'settled in... As long as y're having fun, ‘suppose. This here's a new start for a whole lot o' us. Chin up and cut a bit loose, 'll do y'good in the long run.

*His eyes wander back to the Compound and his little tent off to the side.

[Jangles] Words that put a jingle t'my step, friend. We'll get on famously. Can already tell.

*He steps away from the truck, pausing after a few strides and looking back at the partially put-up tent.

[Jangles] Y've got some more work cut you for'y and I know what I need — same as you. So ‘less there's somethin' more, Cass… Look if y're needin' anything — power, water, help,… Y'can ask around. Need me specifically go to the tent with the hairy elephant outside and ask for me.

[Cassius] Thank you, Sir.

* At exactly 18:03 they venture from beyond the tank trucks and their nest of rusted metal. There are five of them, at the head a well-build man with a shorn head and small, deep-set eyes, a mishmash of metal set onto his torso to function as arms, a feature shared with some others in the small group.

* At his side a woman, or girl, with a stiff, reddish mohawk and several cables draped from her collarbones to her back like an odd cape.

* A sharp, shrill whistle silences the muttering crowds, the five continue down their path towards the immense noticeboard in the middle of the settlement.

* The man sets  foot upon the base of the giant structure. He locks eyes with the woman for a brief moment before he crawls up against the mesh of metal and plastic with surprising ease, like a lizard slithering up a wall.

* Once at the top he remains crouched for a while, eyes seeking the crowd. When the last of the crowd turns towards the board, his arms open and his smile widens.

[Jangles] There we are.

* His deep voice growls lowly as he rises to his full height, never lowering his arms.

[Jangles] Settle down. It's time for ya to look at my pretty mug an' listen to what I gotta say. I'm Jangles — Mister Jangles for those wantin' to keep a professional distance. It's a fucked word but I'm what substitutes for a leader 'round here. Does that mean y’gotta skirt ‘round me like I've got rabies? No it don't. I ain't looking to lord over y'all, only lookin' for common sense an' dignity. I'm here to ease all o' ya worries and take care a' problems.

* He lowers his arms slowly, joining the metal appendages in front of his chest.

[Jangles] I'm sure yer all lovely as can be! I'm sure all yer moms an' pops would vouch for all a' ya through a shithole an' back… But I know I ain't the same 'round my sweet mom… So I'm gonna play advocate and not assume I've gotta bunch o' heroes an' saints sittin' in front o' me. Which I don't really give a fuck about. Y'see this here's a judge-free environment. Y'wanna start a charity-case for every damned leper out there or y'wanna start a lil' factory run on the blood of your workers… I don't give a shit. You do you. Yer all old an' wise enough to know what yer doin' with yer lives.

* The man snaps upright, finger pointing to the sky.

[Jangles] But… Y’don't wanna get us involved. We're here to protect y'all — to a certain degree. We ain't yer private army. So when people come knocking on our door pushing a picture o' one of yer lovely faces into my mug… We might just hand you over on a silver platter if we don't wanna be bothered. 's A Dreggie complex. We don't take well to bein' bossed around without havin' a say in it. Otherwise we're real friendly-like.

* The man clears his throat, the woman at the bottom of the board snaps to attention, a lengthy pole suddenly tapping to the top-most sentence written on it.

[Jangles] We've got some rules just to keep this shithole from going to the dogs. So listen up. First off, ya'll've seen the little area beyond the tank trucks… That's our Compound. We ain't snoopin' between your sheets, we expect the same. Only with an escort or valid reason ya'll be allowed.

* The woman snaps her pole to the second point on the board.  

[Jangles] Second, ain't none of you startin' any sort of trouble in town. Y’wanna bash some heads, club some faces or burn a body… Not in fucking here yer not. Any beef, any frustration, go work that out outside of these walls.

* The pole ticks the third sentence.

[Jangles] Let's not start any shit either way, by keeping yer paws in yer own fuckn' pockets. Ya want stuff? Ya work for it. Nice an' simple like that. Short version: If y’think the affected party'll come running to me to complain… don't fuckn do it.

* The fourth one is addressed, the man goes silent for a little while, looking over the large amount of people in front of him. His metal fingers curl under his chin, he scratches the lengthy stubble in thought.

[Jangles] From the look of y'all I can already see some of yer special… not in the way that yer mom sees it neither. Some of y've got literal fire in yer blood, got a beast hidin' in yer heart or just wanna jump on the chance to bend some metal with the power o' yer mind. Lemme boil it down for all a' ya… Keep it in yer blood, in yer heart and in yer skull. Lotta these guys ain't comfortable ‘round that type a' shit and some of 'em are downright trigger-happy 'bout it. Is a bad quality… We're workin' on it, but ‘til then…

* The pole snaps to the image of an unhappy face surrounded by pickaxes, the symbol of coins and a running stick-figure.

[Jangles] Now we, Dreglanders, are one hell of a people. We're all talk and action. What's to happen to-ya should any o' you forget one of these easy-to-remember rules? That'll depend on the circumstances and how big of a deal y’made this into. Most of the times ya'll be payin' for it… Literally. We'll see y’starve if yer a familiar face for all the worst reasons. Y’can't pay? Ya'll be doin' labour for us. Can be anything from gathering slob, pickin' rocks or scrubbin' our trucks an' much worse as well. Now let's say y've been a massive lil' shit and just keep appearin' before me with a list, the length of my kindness, statin' all the things y've been doin' wrong… Yer gonna leave. Out the fuckn' door an' any attempts to return will be met with a lead kiss.

* His deadpan expression slowly melts away to reveal a smile — a smirk.

[Jangles] Now… That was some serious talk, scary talk even, but needed talk. We're lookin' to establish somethin' more than a wolf's den, a lil' piece a' home out in these lands to share. Rules're needed to keep some semblance a' peace. I'm sure I'll be best buds with all o' ya lovelies in no time at all. Any o' the rules not sittin' well with you? Any questions, concerns or just wanna see my pretty mug up close… ya'll can find me at the General Tradepost. It's the buildin' with the fake, hairy elephant outside… Real hard to miss.

* He takes a step back, his arms widening once more.

[Jangles] I've taken up 'nuff of your time now, so my lovelies… Get out there and do what you gotta!

* Another wide, lopsided smirk concluded with an eccentric bow.

 The crackling of dead air reduces once a new frequency is selected. A badly stitched together voice cuts through, clearing as the signal grows stronger.

—…recorded message. Message will repeat in 5 seconds. —