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Beggars
#11
Grym nodded, “Ahh that explains it. You’re Greek,” she was surprised she didn’t hear the accent. Zephyr must have been away from home for a while for the accent to fade. Unless they were ex-pats. Either way, answered a lot of questions. “There’s no living up to Greek gods. Sorry pops,” she laughed, thinking about her own parents briefly. Boy, girl, there was no difference to Grym. In her time, she’d seen her share of wimpy men. Daddy would have been disappointed no matter what.

“Sorry about that. I thought it was a tattoo. Maybe dad wanted a cyclops instead,” she said, looking down at the medallion. It was kind of cool. How did she get it to stick so well? Glue? Like those hookers who pasted cheekbones on their skin. Maybe Z was a hooker. Grym wouldn't judge. They were legal. None of her business. Unless she was looking for a job. Grym hadn't considered that kind of service before. She tended to do well-enough on her own. 

“Face tattoo is pretty bad ass. I don’t have the commitment. I like my face. Just got this one redone,” she said, gesturing at her left forearm. With the leather jacket on, she couldn’t exactly pull up the sleeve to show it off.
‡‡ GRYM ‡‡
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