08-10-2018, 09:07 PM
Tsega De Waal, NPC
Sprawled on the floor back resting along a wall, Tsega De Waal flipped idly through the feed on his old wallet. The window above cast a glare on the screen that he constantly tilted and turned to be read the tiny print alongside each figure. This was the nicest wallet he ever used despite the cracks splintering the front. Unfortunately, the rebel off whose body he took the thing wasn't carrying a charger. It was bound to die any minute.
A scowl buried his brows low along his eyes when the thing finally went dark. With a push, he shoved it across the floor to Duma, who liked to disassemble such devices and hawk the parts. Sometimes, Duma brought back enough money to share some wealth from vendors in town, but Tsega didn't really care. Al Janyaar kept food in his belly and gave him a place to sleep. So long as those needs were met and he got to flip through the occassional dead guys' wallet, life was pretty good.
"Look alive, boys," their captain announced as he stomped in. "Pack. We leave in ten minutes," a wave of the hand encompassed what little was housed in the room, and Tsega glanced at his bag, rifle propped along the top. Let him take a pee first and he'd be ready in five minutes.
Duma looked disappointed as he shoved the dead wallet into one of the pockets of his cargo pants.
Tsega crawled to his feet and helped Duma to stand. "Don't worry, you can sell that shit anywhere."
Duma laughed, grabbed his own rifle, and the two soldiers filed outside.
Only darkness shows you the light.