Sabine pulled her hood further up along her head as she was greeted by the cheery shop owner of ‘Fran’s Fireworks’. She needed some gunpowder for a few hexes, and independence day was coming up so she figured purchasing some flaming projectiles would be a decent way to spend some time before her cab showed up.

She couldn’t risk walking home, not with the black hand still out and about, but she didn’t want the boys to worry, and avoiding wet fireworks seemed a decent enough reason to not walk home. Her injuries could easily be blamed on her re-evaluation.

The stench she’d caught a whiff of outside deepened into worse levels of grotesqueness, panicked she yanked up her sleeve where horns and coal had burned through to see if she’d begun to rot, though she was sure she had several weeks before it would begin.

She was greeted with angrily glowing patches, and several holes from where the sleeve had caught on the spikes, rather than the oozey, greying flesh she feared.

“Fran needs to get some febreeze then…” She sighed in slight relief, turning down the aisle where they kept the larger fireworks. One in particular caught her eye, the last one in it’s row, a particularly fancy one which supposedly turned into a serpent.

“Perfect.” She smiled a bit, hoping her day was looking up, when her hand met a grimy set of fingers which belonged to the man who emitted the currently almost overpowering stench she’d encountered walking in.

Sabine looked up to see a man who looked like he’d been through a never ending string of rough nights, had an absolute lack of basic hygiene, and was suffering from a massive and unpleasant hangover.

He reciprocated her less than welcoming and half-hidden glance with a grimace and yanked the box from her hand. “Get yer own.”

“I was.” The Iwa placed both hands on the box and yanked it back. She’d fought off more than enough people today, but she was not going to simply allow such simple defeat.

“Listen here, I’m not in the mood to deal with some little girl taking my stuff, I won’t have it, or my name isn’t Larry.”

“Well Larry, oh man of the least intimidating name in existence, deal with it.” She turned on her heel, only to have her arm seized in a fierce grip. “Gimme that.” The man’s breath reeked of tooth decay and beer as he pressed his reeking form closer in attempt to intimidate.

“Let go ya drunk!” She shoved the box behind her with her free hand as his grip tightened.

“I ain’t drunk, that’s the problem.” He sneered drawing even closer.

Sabine grimaced and tried to pull away as her arm flamed and the spikes extended into the rude man’s hand, causing him to recoil and stare at the scorched as well as shredded remains of her sleeve.

“The hell-” Sabine’s other arm was seized at the wrist, causing her under layers to burn through as she struggled to get away, letting curses fly as she was slammed against the shelving. The box had ignited and skidded away from the pair as he pressed closer and filled his cheeks with air.

The burp Larry had been building was never heard as the firecracker interrupted him, and indeed became a serpent before it collided with the shelving for bottle roman candles.

The two troublemakers took to running through the aisles, Sabine chucking pieces of coal from her shoulders and arms at Larry who was in hot pursuit. Eventually she realized lighting the projectiles directly in front of him would be far more effective.

“Sorry Fran.” She mumbled, tossing red hot rocks into the two shelving units as she past, sending fireworks skidding, screeching, and exploding everywhere, sending both parties sprawling for cover.

The emergency sprinklers had come on, but the vast majority of the shop was in shambles, though Sabine noticed while sitting up that The friendly shop owner seemed to watch quite contentedly from the register.

The young woman’s hood was yanked down and her airway cut off as she was lifted by the collar of her sweatshirt. Larry was filling his cheeks once more, grinning almost until he got a peek at the horrific calico which was her face due to the day’s earlier events.

He hesitated staring again at the rock like and then horned underlying layers of her being, allowing her the time to whip out a knife and plunge it into his shoulder, allowing her to drop and freeing the burp to decimate what was left of the smoldering and soggy shop.

“Guess you really ain’t some little girl, then.” Larry stepped back, watching her stand up, both now burnt, bruised, and drenched. “That or you sure are one hell of an eye sore.” He laughed, and swung at her with his good arm, Sabine ducked grabbed his forearm, and broke his elbow via snapping it over her shoulder.

“At least I bathe.” She kicked his stumbling feet out from under him, interrupting his shouts with a grunt as his frame hit the cheap linoleum floor. She began navigating through the debris ignoring his garbled and hateful shouts as he struggled to get up with limited aid from his arms.

Sabine heard a honking out the side and sirens down the street as she neared the entrance, her now frantic escape paused only by Fran, standing with a calm smile, handing her a box of sparklers, for which Sabine quite taken aback, paid for at the waterlogged register.

This brief moment of very unexpected and unnatural normalcy provided Sabine’s body time to calm down, and allowed her to readjust her attire to hide her features, also noticed by the unfazable Fran as she bagged her soggy purchase.

“Come again dear!” Sabine flicked up her hood quickly, speed walking out of the store and sighed in relief as she clambered into her cab which had been impatiently vying for her attentions. It took off, heading through town towards home just as the fire truck pulled up to the store, greeted by the still smiling Fran.