___Zwei__
The bus rattled up to the stop, squealing brakes and noisy hydraulics assaulting your ears as it shudders to a halt and lowers to the height of the pavement to let you on.
It stank of sweat, cheap cigs and diesel fumes onboard, tattered fabric seats and graffiti were the decor of choice. You stuck out like a sore thumb and you knew it.
A group of oily, sweaty orks sat around smoking, talking shit about football as they headed home from their early shift.
The largest of the group who was sat on the back row clocked your entrance and nodded his head your way. His mates began to laugh;
A little lost are we darlin?
Taking an empty seat, you feel their eyes burning into the back of your head and its not long before scrunched up bits of litter start raining on you as they hurl them forwards.
___Mantis___
The troll laughs a deep, hearty laugh, his bassy tones drowning out the background noise of the bar and busy road outside for a second or two.
Cybered up death bringer? I think you got the wrong idea boy. Only thing i bring is people to their best fucking-climax they've ever had!
He passes you a business card, his commcode emblazoned in lurid pink AR writing and offering "male company" services. The first session came with a 30% discount and a 100% satisfaction guarantee.
He looks deep into your eyes, his expression softening.
I've got a cancellation tonight. Call me.
__Lumen__
Johnny smiles a big grin at you. I'd fucking love to mate, but I'm feelin' pissed already. Mick wants me to do a few things this afty so let's go for a pint tonight or summat.
The main street was notably quieter as you headed back down to the pagoda denoting the beginning and end of Chinatown. Eyes watched you from shopfronts down the main street, people hanging out of upper floor windows and peering between rows of clothes hung between buildings on lines put the hairs on the back of your neck up.
The small trickle of tourists that had avoided being forcibly ejected while shit kicked off seemed oblivious, too busy taking selfies on expensive looking commlinks to realise what was actually happening.
A triad squad stood by the pagoda, waving would-be entrants away in a show of force. The last thing chinatown needed was a million and one videos of the gangs kung-fu fighting and engaging in open sword battles in the streets. The extra tourist influx would be worse than the police pressure.
The triads waved you through and Johnny whispered in the ear of the one who seemed to be organising them before you headed out into the busy afternoon of the "Old Smoke".
The feeling of being merry still washed through you, resurfacing as the adrenaline of the fight wore off. All seemed well with the world as you bade Johnny goodbye, promising to call later for a beer.