[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/vzqQ7Xh.png[/img] [i][u][color=b18f71]January 2nd, 10:30 AM. New York City, Pricetown, Parchelli's Store. Interactions - None. [/color][/u][/i][/center][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/yHBmNge.png[/img][/center] It was known throughout the Pricetown community as 'Switzerland'. Where one left conflict at the door, and where enemies respected one another on mutual ground. It was a place denizens of the slums respected, not out of authority or submission, but rather, due to empathetic appreciation. Mrs. Parchelli did not warrant authority in any regal manner whatsoever, but it would be a lie to claim that her past was one of legal pursuits. No, the old woman known throughout Pricetown as Mrs, or sometimes Madame, or even Mama Parchelli, understood the streets, because she had once been part of their harsh winds. A hoodlum, by every sense of the word, Mrs. Parchelli had long since abandoned her criminal past in liue of a new journey. One of peace and serenity. The old woman was a gorgon, something which would have brought fright to the forefront. However, draped in a chipper, yellow dress which hugged the upper part of her serpentine body, such an attire would be quick to dispel any intimidation Mama Parchelli might have possessed. A pair of glasses covered her eyes, shaded and comfortable against the woman's face. Of course, those who knew about the deadly gorgons would also be aware of their gaze. Perhaps another reason why her shop was the nexus of her will. One look from the gorgon was enough to cage anyone in stone. Perhaps fear of Madame Parchelli's wrath added to the peace she demanded within her walls, after all. Old, worn men sat by the gorgon's window, playing a game of chess, their words offering some level of philosophy to a listener, but mainly consisted of bickering, and talk of younger years. An orc and a dwarf, both of whom wore their beards almost like crowns, a symbol of wisdom and experience. In a nutshell, one would be right in considering the gorgon's shop quaint. Was it not for rows of merchandise displayed across walls and open spaces, one could be forgiven for mistaking the store a small home. It wasn't an incorrect assumption, however, as Mrs. Parchelli lived, humbly, in the back section. "Nello!" Came an excited exclamation, a heavy Italian accent prevalent in her voice. "Welcome, sweetheart, how are you?" Parchelli asked, as she so commonly did. Entering her store was something of an experience, indeed. The warm welcome was not expected by those unused to her approach, and Pricetown was not known for being pleasant. "You don't have to keep that on, in here, dear," the gorgon continued, motioning towards Nello's hood, where the boy stood. She was well aware of his nature. [color=b18f71]"Force of habit,"[/color] came a soft response as Nello pulled his hood back, and stepped out of the light. A slight smirk made itself visible on his face, revealing a row of sharp, demonic teeth. It was not long after, that he enjoyed a warm hug from the woman who had slithered closer, and wrapped her arms around him. Returning the favor, a pair of small, scrawny appendages gently offered a reflective form of the motion. [color=b18f71]"I'm okay, Mrs. Parchelli."[/color] It wasn't a lie, but not completely truthful, either. The boy had much on his mind, which was an understandable result of transpired events. "What can Mama do for you today, dear?" Parchelli asked, running a set of long, slender fingers through the young demon's hair. Her own, a coiling nest of snakes, all staring down at the boy with curiosity in glimmering, reptilian eyes. [color=b18f71]"You got some.., "[/color] Nello began, looking from his right, to the left, [color=b18f71]"stash?"[/color] It was an incredibly dramatic way of addressing what the boy was seeking, the option which had spearheaded controversy, within Pricetown's borders. One only needed to look towards Nello's first confrontation with the drink, in Mama Parchelli's shop. It was not a stretch to point towards caution immediately adopted by the hero after uttering the question. 'Do you sell Monster?' He would ask. "Come with me," a slithering whisper traced itself past Nello's ear as the gorgon gently spoke to her customer. Parchelli's rules on the matter were simple. She would sell the drink, but she did not stock it beyond the counter, and she did not want anyone drinking it within her establishment. Unnecessary conflict, she called it. "I recently got a new flavor," Parchelli explained, quiet in her words. Opening a fridge beneath the counter, she showed Nello a metallic container. Java was written on its chilled surface, along with the ever controversial Monster. "I'll let you try this one for free," she smirked, putting the drink in a small, black bag. "The usual?" [color=b18f71]"Yeah, Pipeline,"[/color] Nello offered, tapping his chin. [color=b18f71]"Actually, I'll buy a Java one, too. Dad loves that coffee brand."[/color] "Of course," Mama Parchelli smiled, her beautiful if uniquely serpentine face appearing almost motherly, in a way. "Our little monster," she grinned, playfully ruffling Nello's hair with a long, spindly hand.