RIGBY
Nothing was every actually Rigby's, but nothing ever really belonged to anyone. Especially not in Torchline, the necklace probably wasn't even made by that vendor anyways. It belonged to whoever had it, whoever was smart enough to take it. For a moment that'd been Rigby, in the end it'd been Locke, and as frustrating as it was that was that. So when the man pulled the thing from his pocket and handed it to Rigby, the boy was suspicious.
Dark eyes shifted from the chain to the man, wondering what favor he might be asking for in return. Thieves don't give gifts, they trade in favors or take and run. What was this guy, a cop? Or even worse, pious? He moved slowly before snatching the thing, once it was in his hands he wasn't giving it up. The street rat pressed the chain down into his pocket, stashed for later. He could ask why the other was being nice, but he didn't care that much.
"I'm not doing any favors for this," he warned, stepping back a few paces, watching the man carefully.
Dark eyes shifted from the chain to the man, wondering what favor he might be asking for in return. Thieves don't give gifts, they trade in favors or take and run. What was this guy, a cop? Or even worse, pious? He moved slowly before snatching the thing, once it was in his hands he wasn't giving it up. The street rat pressed the chain down into his pocket, stashed for later. He could ask why the other was being nice, but he didn't care that much.
"I'm not doing any favors for this," he warned, stepping back a few paces, watching the man carefully.
i'll make you understand
and you can trade me for an apparition
and you can trade me for an apparition
