(no subject)
The hookah sat between them, on a small table of oak, surrounded by a halo of velveteen cushion. The hookah itself stood proudly, the smoldering coal atop it being the only sort of light discernable through the bar.
The hoses for this particular hookah, were legion. They lay draped everywhere, like the intestines of an animal slaughtered for business purposes, circa Leviticus. On occasion, the hoses would animate themselves, and crawl the apparatus over to a small fleeing pile of tobacco, whereupon the device would shatter itself against the floor, and use its newfound oriface to devour the tobacco, bringing it to the place of digestion. Or, more literally, smoking.
But this is all background information.
Leon drew from the hookah, blinking the arsenal of eyes throughout his body. The electric blue of his outline dimmed slightly at the inhalation, but returned as a toxic plume rose out of him like a grotesque train.
Leon blinked the central, perpendicular eye on his face. 'The Golden Lady wants me to find the top,' he said slowly, his voice dampened by the visible fog of smoke between he and Guza.
'She said,' he added, canoodling the hose, 'That you would be able to point me in the right direction.'
Guza was a small man. A comically misshapen head, bowed out at the bottom, yet towering at the top, was countered by a diminiutive body, roughly 1/8th the total size of his staggering cranial mass. His voice could only be described as broken glass.
'The Golden Lady,' Guza screeched, 'Doesn't know shit. I don't know a thing about the top. Even if I did, I wou-'
It was at this point that Leon had grabbed Guza with his electric blue-outlined-but-otherwise-invisible-hand, fiddled with the hookah with the other, and was soon holding Guza down on the table, the leering, watery lamprey mouth of the hookah snapping its glass teeth at the meal pinned down on the table.
'Zuca Arrest! Get that away from me!' Guza wailed, flailing his insignificant limbs, while his overmassed head rocked the table.
'...The top, Guza.' Leon said, with a sort of encouraging lapse of grip, allowing the vicious hookah to snap its teeth a mere centimeter away from Guza's head.
'Gah, fine! The top...It's over in the Trucker's place! Just get that thing away from me!'
Casually tossing the apparatus over his shoulder, Leon strolled out, his nervous system aflame with electric signals. The anticipation of the hunt. It had been a long time.