Jay AlgruzÍo

My brother and I just moved to town. Well actually, thats not right, we haven't really moved in yet see. The two of us, we're more like drifters, never really living in the same place for more than a month or two. We get by, making our money on small time side jobs wherever the hell they may be needed, paint a fence here, patch a roof there, get someone's car to finally run again for half the price it would be at some dealership. It may not be the most ideal lifestyle, hell it's not any lifestyle people would want but I've always said take what you're handed, like what you have.

My name's Jackson, you can call me Jay. Seriously, call me Jay or you'll have a hard time saying anything at all ever again. I'm your average joe I guess, not too tall not too short certainly not fat and not skinny etc. etc. I got some eyes I got some hair, yup it's nice and dirty blond and yeah I stay nice and fit. So lets cut to the chase, or whatever it is you might call it these days. My mom and dad died when I was 3, my brother Sean was 4 so he remembers it much better than me. Hell all I know is that one minute they were there, the next I was sittin' next to my brother in the back of some fuckers car pulling up to this old run down mansion. Next thing I knew we were calling it home and getting into fights with the 50 or so other boys that lived there too. Anyway, the rest is just boring history, all anyone needs to know is that the two of us are orphans.

So now here I am walking through this town like I live here. Got my hands shoved deep in my old blue jeans with that familiar feel of the cold metal barrel of a pistol tucked safely in the back under my leather jacket. I doubt I'll even need the damn thing in this area but if there is anything I've learned in my life so far, it's that you can never be too careful. I left Sean back at the car, god knows where the hell he wandered off to by now, probably grabbing himself another pack of cigarettes. Me? I'm hungry. So I asked around a bit and most of the gossip of a nice, cheap place to eat around here was this little cafe. Looks quaint enough.

I walk up to the counter and order a nice hot coffee and a plain old bagel in by best english, see, unlike my brother my accent never really faded. We're from Ireland originally but our parents were italian, I happened to get the Irish genes with the full blown, thick, accent. My brother got the latter, lucky bastard. Anyway, now here I am with nothing to do in some random town, lucky me eh?

Morgan "Dogfish" Esmeralda Fleming

Morgan always tried to act so tough. The young Romani woman had left the traditional gypsy ways and joined a gang. Mr. Maxwell insisted on calling it "The Mafia," and though it did have loose ties with the Russian mafia, it really was more of a gang than an organized division of any mafia.
With little threat to themselves at this time, the group had more freedom to go where they wanted and do what they wanted. Morgan parted from the gang, and for the first time in a long time, she went toward the cafe to get a coffee. Upon entering, she waited in line just behind Jay. She was dressed in casual clothes: jeans, a t-shirt and a black hooded jacket. What stood out, though, were the traditional Indian bracelets, earrings and necklace she wore. And what was not seen was the knife she had strapped to her leg.
"I'd suggest the chocolate almond frozen coffee. If you like that kind of thing, that is." The young woman suggested calmly in her soft, melodious voice. She was the peacekeeper among her acquaintances. She was the friendly one.

Jay AlgruzÍo

After standing at the counter for about 5 minutes waiting for someone to actually get my order made, my eyes begin to wander. It seems to be especially empty in the little shop. It's probably tuesday, no one ever goes out on tuesdays. There is a couple in the back corner of the place al huddled together nice and sickeningly cozy, but that is pretty much it other than the usual couple of kids and this one chick that walks in behind me. Nothing I was about to complain about, the less people there are the less likely theres going to be some sort of mishap or awkward meetings. But of course, no matter the situation or number of people, as my luck goes, it happens anyway. Just as I'm about to tell the person at the counter my order the girl behind me straps in her two cents. Yep, definitely tuesday.

I hear her words and almost decide to ignore her but, eh, why not talk a little? So I turn around with a nice friendly smile and let out a soft, smooth chuckle.

"well now theres a flavor I would never have thought existed."

I turn back to the guy at the counter and then look back again at the woman. With a shrug I smile and tell the guy to go ahead and make it a medium of that kind, hell why not try something different. The dude nods and walks away with a slightly confused look on his face, making me wonder if he even understood what I had said completely, damned accent.

I turn back to the girl and smile, holding out my calloused, rough hand to shake.

"'names Jay"

Morgan "Dogfish" Esmeralda Fleming

Morgan shifted her weight off of her mildly injured knee. She could feel the cold handle of the knife against her lower leg. Normally she'd have a gun with her, but in such a crowded area, a gun probably wasn't such a good idea. If a fight broke out, she wanted a close-quarters weapon. So she just had her favorite knife with the blue and silver handle.
"Yeah, it sounds weird, but it's good." A smile followed her words and her bracelets rattled metallically as she reached out to shake Jay's hand. Just for a second as the bracelets moved, a deep scar was visible on her wrist with a matching one of the other side, as if she had been restrained with something for a long time. Nevertheless, she continued on as if nothing was wrong. "Good to meet you, Jay. I'm Morgan Fleming, but my friends call me Dogfish. I honestly don't remember how I got that name." There was a shrug before she continued. "Are you new here?"

Jay AlgruzÍo

I lean back against the counter, off to the side so she can place her order as well. The feel of the barrel tucked in the back of my jeans reminds me of who I really am and why I'm here, pulling back to reality and the fact that I wasn't staying, i couldn't. But for now, the pistol can stay where it is and I am going to enjoy my lunch for a day. What harm could it do?

I smile again when the girl returns the shake, but I can't help from noticing the scars on her wrists. Anyone else might assume such markings to be stereotypical suicide marks. But it's weird, they're weird, familiar and not suicidal. I force myself to bite my tongue though, it's not your business Sean. Her hand is young and soft compared to my rough, big hands. Its an alien feeling that makes me pull back a bit.

The girl, Morgan, er, dogfish, standing in front of me seems like a nice chick. But you really can never tell anymore, hell the bitch could be carrying a goddamn AK-47 in her bag for all I know. And the name of Dogfish wasn't really your usual nickname. But for now the air is bullet free so I relax a bit, stuffing my hands back in my pockets.

"Uh, yeah you could say that. My brother and I just got here today. I take it you live here?"

Morgan "Dogfish" Esmeralda Fleming

Morgan stepped up to the counter, as oblivious to Jay's gun as he probably was to her knife. She had learned to be prepared for anything, but it wasn't always so easy. A gun usually beats a knife and a strong young man usually beats a weak, injured woman. But she remained complacent.
"Hey man, when you're not busy, I'll have the same as my friend here," she said to the man who was filling Jay's order. Yes, she did just call Jay her friend, whether or not he'd like that.
Morgan noticed how Jay looked at her scars. She didn't seem offended, instead just tilting her head and speaking calmly. "You'll learn that this is a dangerous town, my friend. I honestly don't understand what attracts people to Atroe City. But you and me, we'll survive." She was the kind of person who made friends quickly. Of course, if they turn out to be dangerous or just plain annoying, they weren't her friend anymore. She was as good as breaking off friendships as she was at making them.
"Welcome to hell then." There was a cheeky, toothy but polite smile on her face. "I've lived here for a while. I guess it's not too bad, but you've gotta stay alert." At first she thought she might be making him nervous, but he seemed pretty tough.