I felt a need to write, so I wrote this writing sample, which is really more of an introduction post, but them's the breaks.

[hider=Potion Brewing]

The door to the small shed opened with a weary protest of wood. A cauldron bubbled in a corner of the room, pouring thick tendrils of smoke in the room. Val didn't bother looking up, she already knew who it was. Instead, she remained huddled over the repurposed wok pan that she had bought for $20 at a garage sale, saying hello wasn't worth setting off an explosion. Her hands moved carefully, slowly stirring the concoction in front of her with a wooden spoon. Flashes swam through the thick liquid within the cauldron, filling the room with a strange, dreadful light that danced off the mason jars that lined the crumbling IKEA bookshelves that were hammered into each wall and each centimeter of free space of the gardening shed. A small fortune in arcane ingredients laying in glass, protected by nothing more than 1-inch-thick boards of lumber, a combination lock, and a string of arcane curses.

"What do you need this time, Schultz?" The alchemist said once the mixture began to settle. Arcane energies that crackled with power as they ionized stray oxygen atoms faded into a rolling slumber.

"A simple potion, a potion guaranteed to leave a troll sleeping for...four...let's say six hours," the planetouched mobster said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall of shack with a broad smile on his lips. Smouldering coals of flame shone from beneath the iron mask he wore.

"Nothing you ask me to make for you is ever simple. What's weight of this troll?" Val scoffed.

"Above average, I haven't asked, but let's just say he's got a robust figure," Schultz said with a low, shaking laugh that threatened the shelf closet to him. "How much is it gonna cost me this time?"

"Same as always, $1500 now, $500 when it's done"

"That's a lot of money. How about we say $200, for old times sake?"

"How about you find someone else to do it for you then? Just don't blame me when your friend wakes up after five minutes and tears your arm off before he uses it to beat you to death."

"Now, now, don't be cross, I was only teasing, Val," the gangster chuckled. "Your work is top notch and I wouldn't dream of frequenting a different alchemist. Besides, trust is all we have in this business. I trust you to keep your mouth shut, so I come back to you with new business. You trust me, don't you Val?"

"Yeah, sure, I trust you, Schultz," Val agreed. "Well, as much as I trust any man who's paid to break bones for a living, but do you know how hard it is to find Pixie Dust in the middle of winter?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll manage."

"Of course I will," Val huffed, waving the wooden spoon angrily at the mobster.

"By the by, I heard a strange story from one of the boys. He said he'd seen someone that looked just like you at the Pyramid Club." 

"I thought you were done with Cara?

Val shot him an angry glance.

"You know that it's a bad idea"

"You're one to talk"

"Hey, you only get this wise by making a lot of mistakes"

"Yeah, well, no one is paying for advice from the guy who had to make a deal with an elemental from the plane of Fire because he ended up owing money to the [i]Chechenskaya mafiya[/i]," Val said, rolling her eyes.

"You win some, you lose some when you play a game of poker with those guys," Schultz said with a shrug. "You know you can't trust her, right?"

"I know."

"Then why?" Schutlz said running a hand wearily across his scalp. Val wasn't sure what expression he made beneath his mask, but she knew it wasn't a good one. She didn't like it, she couldn't stand his feigned concern, but he stopped himself before she had to hurl a beaker of glass in his direction. "That bad, huh?"

"You have no idea," Val replied, fighting the pang of fear that coursed through her, the visions of sharp teeth and blood that swam through her mind.

"I suppose I don't."

"Hey, Schultz."

"What?"

"Fuck you."
[/hider]