they were physically the opposite, the tall man reminded Spyder of Shrike. He held himself with the kind of grace that Spyder had seen in the swordswoman. But the man was huge, more than a head taller than Spyder. His face, while classically handsome, was marked with deep scars that, at first, Spyder thought might be -ritual, but then decided were some terrible accident. Chainmail covered the mans upper body and he wore pants that seemed to Spyder like modified motorcycle leathers. Metal plates and studs had been affixed along the legs, which were tucked into heavy steel-toed boots. At his side, the man wore a wide-bladed Kan Dao sword like ones Spyder had seen in maybe a thousand kung fu movies.
"Do I know you, little brother?" asked the big man.
"I dont think so," said Spyder. "Im new here. "
"Still, you seem familiar. "
"Ive got one of those faces. "
"Perhaps thats it. "
The tall man picked up a particularly elaborate sex toy from the stall and shook it. Six little legs sprang from the bottom and some kind of spring-wound plunger popped from the top and began pumping the air vigorously. The little legs kicked as if looking for something to grab on to. When the tall man laughed at the thing, Spyder noticed that color on his face was unnaturally intense. He realized that the man was wearing makeup, trying to cover his scars. The sudden insight made Spyder feel oddly more at home. Even here, down the rabbit hole or wherever the hell hed ended up, people still had egos and still worried about how they looked.
"Im looking for a place called the Coma Gardens. Do you know it?" Spyder asked the man.
"Very well," he replied. "Go down this aisle and
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