A Floor is A Floor [Open]

ADAM it's not a cry for help, it's just a cry for connection. Adam noted the slight trepidation in Are's face as he announced his occupation, revelled in it. He liked to shock people with his bad boy image, liked to think that he could scandalise the uptight with his loose shirts and quick hands. Are did seem to get over whatever his anxieties had been though and Adam raised his eyebrows at the mention of 'his kind'. "Yeah, could be worse. It's...weird here, though. Everyone's got magic powers and there's this big weird...wall...thing around the whole place. I tried to shoot it, but my bullet came bouncing the fuck back and uh, right into a guy, actually. But he was alright." His hands came up in the last sentence assuredly. He was a thief but not a murderer, didn't want to get that reputation. Adam scratched his head, looked up at Are. "You wanna see something cool though?" Without waiting for an answer he held out his arm. After a few seconds there was the sound of wings flapping nearby, then a small black dragon flew down from above the shelves, landed on Adam's outstretched arm and nuzzled up to his cheek, obviously fond of him. "This is Coffee. We're friends." i'd trade my life and health, to make people pay attention. I'd sacrifice myself for the sake of entertainment.