2 Works in Bandi (Halfworlds)
Gorga walked gracefully, copying Bandi's I-am-so-great-but-not-really style like he used to do in front of the man when he was alive, and he smirked at the memory—or try to anyway, if some sort of invincible force didn't block his path and making him tripped right to the shiny floor of his office. "What the fu—"
A shape, he could feel it, almost like a ghostly presence, a....was that a leg?
Nothing was in his field of vision, and he can't feel any malicious intent so no dark magic. Tuyul's magic? No....
"Whoever you are, I hope you know well not to piss me off." A faint wind—no, breath on his left ear making him shivered, cool and damp, unlike anything he ever felt. A whisper that almost sounded like a small laugh. Hold on just a fucking second. He knew that rich, deep voice anywhere.
- Part 3 of The Halfworlders
Gusti sat, getting himself comfortable in old and worn couch. He picked up his cup, drinking his favorite brand of strong black tea that somehow ended up on his cupboard every time he felt like drinking one. It was an expensive brand, the one he tried once while in a meeting in Juragan’s office. The heavenly aroma and rich taste made him fell in love at first cup. But he knew it was too expensive for his cop’s salary.
A few sips relaxed his tired body and spiking headache (he hasn’t eaten anything since last night), and he put the cup on the coffee table as he closed his eyes, trying not to think about his boss’ recent unusual behavior. He tried to focus his mind on his work; to hoodlum he put behind the bars today, thankfully a human. To the stack of paperwork on his desk, waiting to be finished. To the laundry he still hasn’t wash yet.
But his mind chose Juragan to finally focus on.
- Part 2 of The Halfworlders