As if the clothes were what the crowd was there to see, and not the skin that was revealed while the women changed.

Of course. The Merchants are well known for being a fashion-minded sort, don’tcha know?

The teenage girl at the far right of the stand was another story.  She was dark-haired and the makeup she wore looked like it had been applied by someone who hadn’t used makeup before.

Okay, if this one gets involved in the dressup game, I won’t be as okay with it.

She clutched the collar of her sweatshirt in both hands and stepped back as the crowd surged forward, reaching for her.  Being barefoot, she couldn’t step down from the display platform without stepping onto broken glass, and any attempt at running would only lead her into the reaching mass of Merchants.

Eeesh. She clearly doesn’t want to be here… probably a kidnapped victim, like Bryce.

If she’d taken the same drugs as the other women, fear had already sobered her up.  She looked entirely alert and she looked terrified.  No red band on her wrist.  She wasn’t here by choice.

Yeeah, that much was obvious even without the lack of her band.

In front of us, someone got tackled to the ground.  His attacker began pounding at his face, while the people around them cheered.

Wooo!

Okay, yeah, I’m being sarcastic, but I do somewhat wonder what’s up with these two.

We detoured around that group, which brought us face to face with an exhibition.

Guess we’ll never find out.

So what’s this next exhibition at the Weymouth museum of debauchery?

The scene was set at the front of a woman’s clothing shop, and the window had been shattered.  Where the mannequins stood in the display window, there were three women and a girl.

The mannequins make me think of Parian. I doubt she has anything to do with this, though.

The women were trying on their clothes, openly undressing and then dressing in whatever the throng of people around them threw their way.

…

…

…

we finally found something I can get behind

Their eyes had the glazed over looks of people who were on something, and their skin shone with a faint sheen of sweat.  They smiled as they posed provocatively and hugged the mannequins, showing off the clothes.

…provided they’re doing this of their own free will.

“I dunno,” I answered her, feeling legitimately nervous.  I didn’t want to refuse her outright and blow our cover, but I definitely didn’t want to get high.

Yeah, figured as much. It’s not really Taylor’s thing.

I was uncomfortable enough with the idea to begin with, but doing it here, in this kind of chaos?

And while you’re here for a specific, undercover purpose?

“Trust me,” she told me.

Obediently, I opened my mouth.

I guess she has a plan. That, or she Knows the pills to be fake.

She pressed one small pill down on my tongue.  I closed my mouth.  She turned to Brooks and gave him one as well.

As our bodyguards led us through the crowd, she leaned over until our heads were touching, “Sugar pills.  A little sleight of hand on my part.  Just for appearances.  Don’t stress.”

Ahh. A bit of both, then! I guess she came prepared for this, and probably picked Decadence because it looks the most like the pills she brought.

He looked around, stared at her for a few seconds, then conceded, “Eight.”

She drives a hard bargain.

“For me and two of my buddies here.  That’s twenty-four bucks?”

The man nodded eagerly, “Twenty-four.”

Hm, seems like a per-package deal. Unless that’s one gram or less per person, it’s a bit cheaper than I thought.

I don’t know drug prices. I think that’s a good thing.

She forked over a ten and a twenty and collected her change and three pills.  She turned to me, “Open up.  It’s ecstasy.”

…you sure about this?

I really doubt Taylor is.

“No,” Minor answered.  “Have a girl.”

“Get a second!  Or do you want something else?  Got bullets, got some treats.  Booze?  Bad?  K?  Decadence?  Madman?  Nose powder?”

Hm. It does seem this guy has the persistence of a true salesman, at least.

All of those except booze are drugs, aren’t they?

Jeez, these people really aren’t even trying to protect themselves against undercover cops, heroes and the like. Although I suppose actually arresting someone at this arrangement would be difficult.

“Not interested,” Minor answered.

“Not.  Interested.”  The Merchant rubbed his chin, looking skeptical, “Right.”

Yeeeah, he isn’t going to take no for an answer. Is Minor gonna have to beat him up, like Jaw did with the guys at the entrance?

“Wait,” Lisa grinned.  “Decadence sounds good.  How much?”

Hm, I guess we might as well play along.

“Twenty per.”

Twenty of which bill?

“Bullshit,” she replied.  “Not even if it was pure, which it probably isn’t.  Eight bucks.”

Ah, that bill. I suppose twenty dollars per gram(?) is pretty expensive.

“Ah, we have an expert here, do we?  Can’t blame me for trying.  You have to understand, it’s hard to get product with things the way they are.  Ten.”

I suppose he does have a point. Supply and demand, and all that.

“Eight.”

Haggletale ain’t budging, though.