Rhiannon stood on her toes and leaned over the counter, doing a visual inspection of the prop guns slung around the woman's hips. It was a decent costume and all, but on a scale of one to ten, with one being fake and ten being real, those ranked about a three. She straightened.
"So next time, say, 'Yeah but what are you gonna do about these?'"
She balled up her fists in a pugilist stance.
Most guys at the door were hired for how their biceps looked when they crossed their arms, and not much else. Visual intimidation went along way toward averting problems, which was why a slayer -- a true natural at providing security -- would be a questionable choice at the front door.
Her eyes alighted on the stone around the woman's neck. It struck her that the stone was cut so that it seemed to give light, rather than just reflect it. "Pretty," she said, pointing at it.
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"So next time, say, 'Yeah but what are you gonna do about these?'"
She balled up her fists in a pugilist stance.
Most guys at the door were hired for how their biceps looked when they crossed their arms, and not much else. Visual intimidation went along way toward averting problems, which was why a slayer -- a true natural at providing security -- would be a questionable choice at the front door.
Her eyes alighted on the stone around the woman's neck. It struck her that the stone was cut so that it seemed to give light, rather than just reflect it. "Pretty," she said, pointing at it.