The building is not in the best of repair — from the rotting sign that hangs out front, to the roof that has shingles missing and broken, to the door itself that wheezes when pushed open.
The windows are dirty with years of grime and unknown filth. Because of this, the interior is not well lit, but maybe that is a good thing considering the goods that this particular shoppe has to offer. The air is dank and musty, and carries a slightly rotting odor. The floor underfoot feels almost spongy as one walks further into the store.
Many of the shelves seem on the brink of falling over. The items for sale will be at risk if one of these ancient supports gave way. There is arcane clutter which is haphazard, if quaint. There is natural clutter that can be overlooked. Then there is Imp clutter. It is neither haphazard, quaint, or easily overlooked. It is in your face, and be careful what you step over!
As one progresses down the aisle, be very careful — for you never know what might be looking back: from jars of sightless eyes; to severed heads and limbs; to creatures stuffed into bottles and cages; to boxes that shift and groan.
Imp's two cousins — Guimpdo and Gimpno — are generally around, but if you want something done, you best do it yourself. They aren't the brightest bulbs in the socket, and often end up harassing each other more than helping the curious customer.
Their motto: You want it? We have it! If we don't, we'll get it! Imp's Little Shop of Horrors, open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week!
.:: The Marketplace ::.
