although still skimming, his head nodded with a laugh.

“tch. yeah, i don’ know ‘bout that, but you’d be surprised how many can’t pour one the regular way.”

he set the papers down and pulled off the too-small green readers, daintily folding them shut and replacing them inside his desk. leaning further back in his seat, he clasped his hands.

“why do you wanna work here, hope?”

maybe a too-typical, sort of ridiculous question on the surface, but it had multiple meanings. it was code. already once today, an interview had turned out to be another type of business offer altogether. there were plenty who wandered into ritual innocently, but with its more official tie to rocket recently, more seemed to come for the underbelly than the booze—or the poorly paying jobs behind his bar.

hope einar

☉

“may be.” roach shrugged, head nodded. “as long as you can pour a pint, i’ll be happy.”

… activities.

he narrowed his eyes the slightest bit, unsure if it meant anything or not. maintaining a career in the underbelly of slateport had taught him not to ask strangers too many questions—even in a job interview, when he was the boss.

you just never know.

“sure, that’s why you need a job. any reason in perticular ya chose this bar, though?” his head fell to the side a little inquisitively, but he assured, “—’n if you were jus’ walkin’ down the street lookin’ everywhere, that’s fine too, y’know. ain’t gonna affect nothin’.”

his fingers laced. betty shifted on her perch and made a  soft gurgling sound.

hope einar

☉