It was odd.

She passed several abandoned hulks of metal on wheels, most of them seemingly in very good condition. Juniper wasn't a mechanic, nor was she familiar at all with machines, but she was sure most thugs on her world would have dismantled or repaired then repurposed those machines for something else. 

Even the gas station, once she arrived, was bare of anything or anyone. There was no mistaking it for what it was, some of the runes around it were easily deciphered to read GAS. It was Gas for sure, an extremely valuable material for practically everyone on her world; it was disconcerting to see the gas station empty and untouched. Unless it was empty, that was. Perhaps no one had thought to fill it up and fortify this place yet. Satisfied with her conclusion, she inspected the gas station but for a few minutes, before deciding to go to the store. She had little use for gas at the moment, but a store could possibly be useful, depending on what it stored of course. 

The store, not too far away, was more like a display than any store she had ever seen or was familiar with. Her own store was a simple windowless store, with a sturdy wooden door. This store... Well, perhaps it was a convenient store by virtue of having everything visible and easily reached. But... The glass door appeared to have been broken, probably recently due to the lack of dust upon the shards. Even should she wish to stay hidden, simply walking through the door betrayed her presence, as the door gave off an odd sound.

Almost immediately, a large armored figure appeared, no doubt alerted by the noise the door made. These sort of armored men were an uncommon sight in her world, but every single one of them she had met, all four, were stark raving mad in one way or another. Even if he wasn't, it did not seem as if he was about to invite her to some tea. Juniper was feeling hungry, but that didn't mean she could not fight. 

[b]“Have you come for my soul?”[/b]

"Oh?" She grinned. "Was that a challenge I hear?"

"Surely you are one of those [i]contestants[/i]." Walking nonchalantly and confidently towards the man, she spread out her arm, as if inviting him to attack her with her seemingly reduced guard with several openings. "Perhaps we can talk it over a meal. A drink? Or perhaps even a game?"

Another potential combatant, and another one she had to check. A murderous cur — or anyone who meant to harm or fight her from the beginning — would jump at the chance of a first strike, and those who wouldn't fight, wouldn't. It was a move that made her seem overconfident, or just someone who underestimated her opponent, while the reverse was actually true. Confidence in her style of fighting, was essential; having too much self doubts was as dangerous as a well trained opponent. Even from her position, she was confident she could possibly deflect that weapon should he charge at her.