[center][h2][color=red]Sheffield Dusk[/color][/h2][/center]

[i]Interactions: [@Bea][/i] [i]Mentions: [@Lotrix Molick][/i]

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Two people dressed in uniform, sky blue for the top and deep black for the bottom, front covered by green aprons, were preparing a stall like most of the people here were doing. One was young-looking, had brown hair tipped with red, and something long wrapped in black canvas, hanging by his belt. The other was much taller, moving several long tables and chairs for future customers to sit at.

It was smooth going so far.

"Sheffy, those boxes!"

[color=red]"Got 'em!"[/color]

Sheffield's hand shot out and stopped a small tower of crates from tipping over. That was the sixth disaster he had to stop within just an hour. The employee gave a glare at the root of the problem.

[color=red]"Mister Tusk... wooden boxes? Mind finally explaining what's in these? And don't call me 'Sheffy'."[/color]

The man with shaggy brown hair, excited eyes hidden behind his glasses, grinned, showing off his fangs. He was a mutant, just like many others at this gathering, the ones he was determined to show off for today.

"Jalapeno peppers, grown by a certain mutant from Deadridge Farms!" he answered proudly.

[color=red]"D-Deadridge Farms!? What the heck kinda peppers did you get this time!?"[/color]

"The very best! We need more customers more than ever my boy, and the new recipe I taught you all is bound to rope them in."

Sheffield sighed and shifted the boxes at the top, making sure (praying) that they didn't explode or something. It was true that the man was better at cooking than Sheffield was, admirable even, but they had a tendency of blowing up in their faces. Sometimes literally.

[color=red]"Where is everyone else, anyway?"[/color] he asked.

"Oh, they've gone to see the other stalls, the little traitors." He sounded like a father talking about his playful children though.

[color=red]"...So we're supposed to man this stall, just the two of us?"[/color]

"Not at all! I wouldn't leave you to suffer such a fate--"

[color=red]"You did, once, at the cafe, leaving me with a celebrity,"[/color] Sheffield muttered darkly.

"--so we're all doing it together after a break." Tusk waved a hand at all the stalls. Despite being on a job, Sheffield was wondering if he could ask for a break to see them all. Mutants have always fascinated him.

"You can go ahead and take a look for a while," Tusk told him.

Sheffield felt a smile and looked to his boss gratefully. [color=red]"Really?"[/color]

"But bring this along."

Tusk shoved a plastic bag into his hands, one with the Rain's Knell logo on it, which was a rain cloud being pushed away by a coffee steaming underneath, painted in varying shades of blue. And if the peppery smell meant anything, Tusk wanted his young employee to advertise the pepper buns.

[color=red]"Of course..."[/color] muttered Sheffield.

"Don't be like that! You don't have to shout or anything," Tusk said as he nudged Sheffield to move. "Now go on! Have a good time."

And so Sheffield did.

There was one booth that was particularly flashy, set up just a few stalls away from Rain's Knell's. The woman manning it looked like she had ivy for tendons, like... Wildvine? As in the cartoon, only more human. Everything on her table of nature seemed to glimmer.

Sheffield heard of Nari the nature mutant, renowned for her botany and alcohol, and maybe a hero by night. He was about to walk over to her before he spotted a hand, poking out of a bush.

[quote=@Bea]He (from Sheffield's view, he only saw a hand) moved slowly, but with intent, crawling quietly through the bushes until he was on the backside of the bench. He then reached underneath it, carefully watching the woman above as he slowly took hold of the bag, minding the plastic and making sure not to cause too much noise, before lifting it off the ground ever so slightly and pulling it back towards the bushes.[/quote]

Thieves. If it was a plastic bag clearly full of food, then this one must be hungry.

Sheffield looked at the one in his hand. His manager might get mad at him for this...

He walked over to the bush and brushed aside some foliage. He saw a mop of black hair and a blue jacket, one that looked rather well-kept. A thief would normally not have that much hygiene, what with their circumstances.

Sheffield cleared his throat and exclaimed, [color=red]"There you are!"[/color]