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On the Shelf: |
Behind the Counter: |
This Week's Special:
Their first touch was
electric. They knew they were rushing things but had never felt this and decided to dive in. They had a
close-knit wedding with three-dozen guests treated to steak and Lindeman's
'Gentleman's Collection' 2020 shiraz. Then time happened: they divorced and
both left burnt, yet neither regretted taking the chance.
Felicity snaffled
the half-dozen wines left from the premature wedding. She cracked one for
tasting notes: blackberry, tobacco, hints of ick but solidly drinkable. Felicity's
experienced guess is that the remaining bottles have a coin-toss chance of
tasting like fancy vinegar. All the bottles carry a 64% chance of adding, for
one hour per glass, about 200 kW charge to blows struck by drinker.
This wine is not for the
faint of heart because pacemakers. The buyer will be a wine amateur but will
get buzzed from it, unless it has gone off. The customer is someone who expects
to get bored at some point and take impromptu boozy gamble mid-melee. The
market is someone who likes to hit things with other, conductible, things.
That market is Iris.
Iris has a
degree in Engineering (Renewable Energy Technologies) but ended up in Road
Project Management, whatever that is. She vents, on long weekends, as the
fighter of an adventuring party. Their latest quest was eradicating the hauntings
of the Forbidden Wing of the Library, which is mostly gay penguins. Their healer drank
Maison 'Mirabeau' 2023 Rosè whilst damage dealers curb stomped, literally and
figuratively, the ghost.
'Wait.' Azrael, panting,
stops to start a smoke. 'Is that blood?'
Doc Hoff calls: 'That's not
an actual ghost. That's a person under a bed sheet with two holes cut out for
the eyes. Some mere Scooby-Doo shit.'
'Did we just -' Amy cannot quite
say murder. 'What did we just do?'
'We just busted my bat, gonna'
take three months to grow back.' Iris walks amongst library shelves, pulls out
a book. 'I struck killing blow, I get first call on loot. I want this.'
(Amy drops to knees, edge of
sobbing. Doc Hoff helps wine into her mouth.)
'That's a grimoire. Notes of
Flamme, the Great Mage.' Azrael
exhales dragon plume. 'Those are forgeries. The Great Flamme never kept notes,
herself.'
Iris: 'Yeah, but I could
sell it.'
Someone, OP in late game and
with time to spare, likely does side-quests for these grimoires. If they are
willing to quests for something, they are willing to pay for that thing with
another quest's loot. The market, however, is the person who back-and-forths
things between here and vaguely overseas. This someone will have the nous to do
this smuggling profitably.
That market is Saperavi.
Growing up in progressive
Dinotopia, Saperavi was boxed
as tomboy. Despite going rogue a decade past, she still works in skybax uniform
which does not emphasise traditional femininity. On trips to the Land of the
Rising Sun and Anime, however, Saperavi rocks a kimono and knows it. She will
admire herself in three different mirrors until able to lift her jaw off the
ground. Pedro likes to drink sake from those fancy cups.
On Saperavi's latest trip to
the Kanto region, she traded a Disappear Sticker
for a spare Rainbow Badge.
Eight different badges are needed to enter cock-fight olympics but there are
another eight gyms a train-ride away. People sell medals rewarded for war
crimes so why not this?
The market for this badge,
amongst people with real jobs, is courtesy of Erika. Erika is calm and
reasonable and has a nice green workspace. She is respected by her staff, so
that she can command employees up to level fifty. The market is the employer whose
grunts, upskilling and learning, are forgetting to follow instructions.
That market is Mark.
Mark the alpha
worked hard to firmly establish his business. The drugs were reward, prestige
and cope. Now workers come and, struggling to meet contradictory instructions
delivered minute apart, flitter away into the corporations. They do not work
like he did, in glory days viewed through cocaine-tinted glasses.
Rain - not a lot, but the
first they had in months. Mark sniffs for opportunities and visits clients,
such as the supermarket with roof leaking into aisle seven. Twenty second
interval drips hit bucket positioned right in front of the condoms. Mark senses
omen - he does not get the contract but he does buy two thousand condoms.
The market for Leaky Condoms
is the first person to realise that, when turned inside out, they do not leak
when it is raining. Arranged under a gutter, the magnums alone can gather two
hundred litres of rain water. When rain stops, the condoms leak drip feed onto
whatever crop is being grown low maintenance, probably out bush. Nobody has
discovered this opportunity yet, so Leaky Condoms can be bought wholesale at
bargain.
That market is Felicity.
* Footnote.
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