#sanpatron1

The shop might be GANGSTAR but the threads were legit. Wang Yi browsed through the clothing store and realized, more poignantly than ever, how much he should really get a job.

Sigh, it was hard to get rich when you weren't written that way into the story from the start.

He's just about done examining some hoodies when a man bumped past him without so much as an "excuse me." Wang Yi didn't really care, but the glint of gold he caught from the corner of his eye gave him pause.

No way...is that...

As the man made for the exit, Wang Yi turned to clearly see a bracelet sporting a price tag peeking out from his pocket.

'A shoplifter...?' The words slipped out unbidden and the culprit freezed up before starting to run.

She wasn't against helping someone who needed her help but there was really only so much Rapi could do from her own own. Sure not all of her strength was gone but still he seemed like he could hold his own. Even then menial tasks didn't seem on his mind either?

"Not to be rude but you've been staring for quite some time. If you needed help I'll be more then willing to assist you. As long as it isn't too out there..."

If nobody else from her industry was gong to show up then Grace knew getting to work on her own was a surefire way to keep her boredom in check. Still when it was only her at the helm then things were bound to go in a completely different direction then anyone could anticipate. Like today's adventure with a seemingly normal looking gentleman. Although as the conversation progressed they both began to realize just how not normal either of the two of them were.

"But if you have plenty of rides stocked up in this city I'm more then willing to give them a quick look. Can't say if it'll completely help or not though."

Being social was not her strong suit in the slightest bit. But when the servant wandered on by to check if Ritsuka was around she managed to find someone else entirely waiting around for presumably a similar purpose. That or just getting a bite to eat as well. One thing lead to another and a conversation was struck between the two of them, even if Mélusine kept her distance emotionally from them in the moment.

"Still if you are a friend of my Master's then that means you are someone I should protect as well. Although if anything did happen to them that could be traced back to you I won't show you any mercy. Just a word of warning that's all."

   Each stride towards the bar only makes him grow more eager to sit and drink away his frustrations, his hair slowly drooping with each step. He’s been here a handful of times, but this instance felt a little different. It felt more like the time he’d visited that temporary bar when he was pulled here about five months ago. Pinching the side of his beard, he tries his best to recollect the name of it. Well, it was a conflation of villains and the like, even if they didn’t look to be so. Like that woman; Drake was it? Yes, he nods in affirmation at that name. Now the name of the makeshift bar... It was something cheesy. Waving a hand around, he tries to dismiss it and take his seat at the bar besides a taller, more well dressed fellow. He’s just happy he can finally drink away his problems and pray that this night would end on a more high note than being sent home by cab a sobbing drunk mess.

   Arms folded, he rests his elbows on the counter, still looking rather sore about this whole deal. The bartender passes him a pained look, almost as if he’s preparing for whatever the doctor is going to send his way, verbal or otherwise. “Give me a Manhattan. And don’t give me any of the little cherries you like to festoon them with or whatever...” He demands, not even exchanging a glace at the bartender. It’s when he hears them walk off that Cortex rests his chin in his arms and heaves a drawn out sigh. “How long has it been since my arrival to this cesspit? Four, Five months? I’m beginning to envy Darrell and everyone else for escaping somehow.”