@rosalang said: we don’t need any more holes in the wall .
“ yeah, runs the danger of making a place look too rustic, ” which was flimsy barrel-speak for, dear god in heaven, who shot this place up and why was their aim so piss-fucking-poor. jesper looks up at the bullet ridden ceiling, the wooden beams carved and dinted by flyaway shots, at the less than inocuous patchwork of paint and wallpeper that was clearly covering some kind of pitting in the surface of the walls — whose aim was that bad? dear ghezen and all his ugly minions, did they ask a drunk squid to play ravkan roulette in here? — and he looks with open disdain.
“ this is, perhaps, the most unfortunate place i’ve ever stepped foot in. beats me why brekker wants to talk to your cousin here, ” which was a half-truth: jesper knew very well that no arbitrator of either dregs or scarlet loyalties could meet in a non-neutral space. every gang had its obligations and duties to other gangs, even if only by the skin of their fingers — in the barrel, allegiance and alliances meant safety. picking a dingy bar in the middle of bum fuck, ketterdam meant not treading enemy territory . . . or allied territory, if a fight broke out. jesper just hates the decor in the place, and the smell.
“ which brings me to my next question, actually — are you an enforcer, or your lady’s second? ” meaning, are you here to watch over your friend the way i’m here to keep brekker from getting shot?
