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Original poster
~ Kaira Harris ~
"Mr. Hannoway, you must think I'm touched in the head." Kaira stood, one hand placed on her hip, the other rested on the baseball bat stowed beneath the counter. "This ain't up for negotiation."
"This is ridiculous!" The man growled in response, his tone growing more hostile with each syllable. "It was half as much last time!"
"You know full well my supply has dwindled since then. Stock goes down, prices go up. It's basic supply-and-demand."
"Well ain't that a fancy excuse, Kai." He spat back. "You gonna come down there and explain it to my family when they complaining they ain't got nothin' to eat? Your uncle'd be ashamed of you."
"Sir, I've known you my whole life." Kaira sighed sympathetically, giving a small shake of her head. "You know it ain't my intention for your family to go hungry. But what am I supposed to do? If I start giving stuff away for less than it's worth this place won't last a week. And then what? Now that would have my uncle rolling in his grave for sure, ain't ya think?"
There was a long pause, as the two stared each other down. Mr. Hannoway was tall and imposing, with a mean face, but Kaira knew he wasn't any real threat. It seemed ever since her uncle died everyone had been trying to intimidate her into committing financial suicide and he was no different. This had become their usual means of bartering, but in the end, he always backed down.
"Fine, take it all." Mr. Hannoway finally broke the silence, shoving a bag of vegetables up onto the counter.
"Thanks so much, sir." Kaira smiled and moved the vegetables out of his reach, before sliding a small package wrapped in paper and twine across the counter to him. "You know I always appreciate your business. Hope to see you again soon."
She waited - smile still plastered on her face, hand resting on the baseball bat - as the man grabbed the package and stormed out, slamming the door shut behind him.
- - -
~ Ezra ~
By the time the sun had risen into the sky, Ezra had already been awake for hours. Never a fan of sitting around doing nothing, he'd kept himself as busy as he could with the limited visibility available - watering his garden and attending to yet another flaw in his shelter.
An old structure on the edge of town, some might argue the place he'd come to call home more closely resembled a shack than the garage it'd once been used as. It seemed every other week he had yet another hole or leak to patch up. Luckily for him, though, he'd always had a bit of a knack for fixing things up. Besides, for all its faults, he liked the place.
Now, with enough light to work by, he was sorting through the results of his last scavenge. It had been a largely uneventful and, unfortunately for him, unfruitful trip. A dented can of food he hoped was safe to eat, a few scraps of metal he thought he might find a use for, and a mostly destroyed magazine was all he'd thought valuable enough to bring back with him.
The magazine, in particular, had most strongly grabbed his interest. It was likely some of its pages would soon end up on his walls, taped up alongside the other scraps of the world before the war he'd found in his travels. After storing his other finds away in a makeshift root cellar of sorts he'd dug over the years, he shoved the magazine into his backpack. He'd had the pack since before he came to Junkroad, and while it was an old, torn-up affair, it was reliable.
He stood and slung the pack over his shoulder, making his way outside. After taking the time to chain and lock the door, Ezra headed off towards the more heavily populated area of town.
"Mr. Hannoway, you must think I'm touched in the head." Kaira stood, one hand placed on her hip, the other rested on the baseball bat stowed beneath the counter. "This ain't up for negotiation."
"This is ridiculous!" The man growled in response, his tone growing more hostile with each syllable. "It was half as much last time!"
"You know full well my supply has dwindled since then. Stock goes down, prices go up. It's basic supply-and-demand."
"Well ain't that a fancy excuse, Kai." He spat back. "You gonna come down there and explain it to my family when they complaining they ain't got nothin' to eat? Your uncle'd be ashamed of you."
"Sir, I've known you my whole life." Kaira sighed sympathetically, giving a small shake of her head. "You know it ain't my intention for your family to go hungry. But what am I supposed to do? If I start giving stuff away for less than it's worth this place won't last a week. And then what? Now that would have my uncle rolling in his grave for sure, ain't ya think?"
There was a long pause, as the two stared each other down. Mr. Hannoway was tall and imposing, with a mean face, but Kaira knew he wasn't any real threat. It seemed ever since her uncle died everyone had been trying to intimidate her into committing financial suicide and he was no different. This had become their usual means of bartering, but in the end, he always backed down.
"Fine, take it all." Mr. Hannoway finally broke the silence, shoving a bag of vegetables up onto the counter.
"Thanks so much, sir." Kaira smiled and moved the vegetables out of his reach, before sliding a small package wrapped in paper and twine across the counter to him. "You know I always appreciate your business. Hope to see you again soon."
She waited - smile still plastered on her face, hand resting on the baseball bat - as the man grabbed the package and stormed out, slamming the door shut behind him.
- - -
~ Ezra ~
By the time the sun had risen into the sky, Ezra had already been awake for hours. Never a fan of sitting around doing nothing, he'd kept himself as busy as he could with the limited visibility available - watering his garden and attending to yet another flaw in his shelter.
An old structure on the edge of town, some might argue the place he'd come to call home more closely resembled a shack than the garage it'd once been used as. It seemed every other week he had yet another hole or leak to patch up. Luckily for him, though, he'd always had a bit of a knack for fixing things up. Besides, for all its faults, he liked the place.
Now, with enough light to work by, he was sorting through the results of his last scavenge. It had been a largely uneventful and, unfortunately for him, unfruitful trip. A dented can of food he hoped was safe to eat, a few scraps of metal he thought he might find a use for, and a mostly destroyed magazine was all he'd thought valuable enough to bring back with him.
The magazine, in particular, had most strongly grabbed his interest. It was likely some of its pages would soon end up on his walls, taped up alongside the other scraps of the world before the war he'd found in his travels. After storing his other finds away in a makeshift root cellar of sorts he'd dug over the years, he shoved the magazine into his backpack. He'd had the pack since before he came to Junkroad, and while it was an old, torn-up affair, it was reliable.
He stood and slung the pack over his shoulder, making his way outside. After taking the time to chain and lock the door, Ezra headed off towards the more heavily populated area of town.
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