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[OP-F1] I Think I Mean Business


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<<OOC: This takes place in a safe zone, so don’t get any ideas. Also, no loopholes.>>

Outlander stood in the shopping district of the town of new beginnings in one of those many benches that are randomly strewn about the area. He was sitting next to a wooden cart that would looks like it would be used to move heavy wooden crates around with ease, a man was loading it with crates of, alcohol? He got up, and walked up to the man: “Clearly nothing means business like showing up to a liquor store with a shopping cart.” Outlander said with a questionable look on his face. “Hey, you wouldn't suppose, I could, take one o-” “No.” “Dude come on!” Outlander protested. “Want one, but one.” Outlander looked at the man with frustration filling his eyes. “How much?” Outlander groaned. “I’d say, one hundred and fifty col.” “Haha, yeah, no. What is the real price?” The man just stared at Outlander. “Ok, I'm go now, good luck with your future endeavors.” Outlander said, there was only one place that he actually enjoyed going to. The Westward Tavern. He began walking at a moderate pace, trying not to make contact with any unwanted.

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