A
Artsydaze
Guest
Original poster
The docks were cold on this November night, the wooden planks frozen over and covered with a slippery film of cold water, making the simple act of walking potentially fatal for wanderers. Even in this late hours, the great amalgam of piers and fish stall was busy, dockers and sailors lauding wares for many a ship's next voyages at the same time that fishermen prepared for their next day of labour. Shipping and fishing were not the only thing making the dreary corner of the port city busy however, as any types of wares were exchanged for currencies. From food to prostitutes, everything could be found in the docks.
One of those wares were the newest cheap drug on the market, called Siren. Jack was a dealer of the thing, even though he never touched it, as the thing gave him a bad feeling in the pit of his guts. He preferred his mind clear and sharp, thank you! He'll stick to cigarettes.
The young man was leaning on the cold, wet brick wall of a local brothel as he waited for the next sucker willing to buy the wretched stuff from his hands and buy him a night of pleasure in the process. One had to find wealth wherever one could reach for it, after all... Burrowing further into his coat, he made sure that his bright blond hair war hidden under his fedora hat as he warmed himself with a long drag from his cheap cigarette, the only brand he could afford. Selling cheap drugs did not make him rich, to his great damn.
It was better than becoming a thug, in any case.
'Ah, another sucker' Jack thought with a smirk as he saw one of his regulars approach.
One of those wares were the newest cheap drug on the market, called Siren. Jack was a dealer of the thing, even though he never touched it, as the thing gave him a bad feeling in the pit of his guts. He preferred his mind clear and sharp, thank you! He'll stick to cigarettes.
The young man was leaning on the cold, wet brick wall of a local brothel as he waited for the next sucker willing to buy the wretched stuff from his hands and buy him a night of pleasure in the process. One had to find wealth wherever one could reach for it, after all... Burrowing further into his coat, he made sure that his bright blond hair war hidden under his fedora hat as he warmed himself with a long drag from his cheap cigarette, the only brand he could afford. Selling cheap drugs did not make him rich, to his great damn.
It was better than becoming a thug, in any case.
'Ah, another sucker' Jack thought with a smirk as he saw one of his regulars approach.