Terms And Conditions
Knight Shop AU. I was told I ought to finally write something with these two.
Dorian steps into the unassuming little shop, peering around, before he shoves his hands into his pockets and wanders towards the counter.
Yvaine’s words are still ringing in his head. Their rates are reasonable - certainly better than most of the handymen round here. Stop looking at me like that and go, if I have to hear any more complaining about your boiler I swear I’ll -
Not my boiler. My father’s.
There’s a little dust; not much, just enough for a certain shabby atmosphere. Someone’s put a bell on the counter, so after a moment of hesitation, he presses it. A bright ding cuts through the silence.
A surprised sort of scuffling noise, and then someone’s coming through from the back room, carrying a cardboard box. They pause, blinking at him.
Dorian tries not to blink back. Knight? This man looks more like an escapee from a biker bar: tall, broad and a little unshaven, with long, hastily tied-back hair and various tattoos visible past the sleeves of a T-shirt that might have been black once, but is now a faint grey.
“Oh.” The man tilts his head. “You here for a knight?”