Employed by the Big Shot

Flowers and Lights

The visit to the first address was uneventful, one look at your equipment and they knew why you were there and what you wanted. The second address, only two doors down, results in nothing. You knocked at least five times, each attempt being stronger and more forceful than the last, but there's still no answer. They must not be home, you assume, there's plenty of time, you can just circle back later.

Address number three has you thrown into battle with two skinny addisons. You don't have much trouble at all, only getting a scrape across the back of your hand as a result of a clumsy attack while theirs were still happening. You manage to 'talk' you're way out of it, get the money and leave, flipping them off on the way out for good measure.

A few paces from the house you skipped, you watch as, a minimum of, six broad and well dressed figures enter the home. Not a problem, you reassure yourself, nothing you can't handle. You take a deep breath and jog up the stairs and knock. As expected, the moment your eyes meet, you're flung into another battle.

Three of the darkners are using familiar attacks, luckily making them a piece-of-cake to avoid. The other three, however, are individually strong and their attacks are proving difficult to predict, and get out of the way of, along side each other. You juggle attacking, acting, and dodging for what feels like hours.

You haven't taken any damage yet, and you've knocked two of your assailants off their feet, but you're becoming tired. After falling a third, a sharp, magic spear slices through your leggings and cuts effortlessly though your skin. During your turn, unfortunately, you had gotten too close to the others you weren't targeting. You bounce back with an angered groan.

You're forced to heal during your next few turns, just barely managing to not get hit again, but now you're all out of edibles and there's still three experienced fighters coming at you. You are able to land plenty of strikes, bringing them all down to half-heath, but because of you're injury they're doing less damage. It takes a long, long time, and you've gotten a slit across your nose, but you're finally down to 1v1.

This persons projectiles are highly buoyant, allowing you to use your weapon to jerk them back at them. It's enormously effective, and they go down within minutes without their buddies by their side. You grin villainously at the 'You Won!' text box before the battle is ended. You fix your hair, slide the sword back into its sleeve, and begin rummaging through the weakly breathing, bruised and battered foes pockets.

You collect the cash and give yourself a tip, then check your watch on the way out. It's late afternoon, 2:47pm, to be exact. You're ahead of schedule and feeling very successful. You really do like your job. On the, slightly uncomfortable, walk home you order and eat a few CD bagels, saving some for another day. Your wounds are still present, but smaller and less painful.

You wave at the staff in the reception room and they, for the first time, happily welcome you back. A few pedestrians and guests had given you weird looks, but you are cheered up by the friendly greeting from the staff present. On the lift up, you take off the chestplate and carry it to the room like a baby, your shoulders are sore from lugging it around all day, but you suppose you'll get used to it, and it feels heavenly to have it off again.

You're about to loudly announce yourself, but halt when you don't see anyone to hear you. You look around with a pout and a raised brow. Shrugging, you head to your room to change into some much desired cozy clothes. You clean off your sword with some tissues and proudly lay it, and your armour, on the dresser in a presentable fashion.