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|Interitus > Trash Can > From: Milk and Money|
|Posted by: Nicolas Harper-Flynn Apr 3 2015, 06:34 PM|
| Nicolas glanced down at her.
“And I thought you never called anyone that?” he asked, turning to look back across the market.
He couldn’t see the two men anywhere, and he was pretty sure that they’d cut their losses and gone off to find another target. It probably wasn’t even difficult. With the two of them, anyone who didn’t have a good knowledge of fighting would probably surrender just to stop themselves from getting hurt. Nicolas wasn’t sure which he was angrier about, that these two bastards were taking advantage of people, or that they were idiots and they still go away with it.
Glancing in the direction she nodded, though he obviously couldn’t see the park from here, Nicolas frowned, his eyes narrowed.
“Mother fucking cats?” he asked. “Are we talking actual felines, or did nineteen twenties lingo come back in fashion?”
His dad had loved those old movies, the black and whites where women were called Doll or Dame, and the men all wore trench coats and smoked cigars. It didn’t matter anyway, most likely, both his parents were dead, and his brother. Nicolas found it best not to think about it.
He scratched the back of his neck.
“You a good climber?” he asked.