"Hm. I could tell ya, but then I'd have to kill ya."

Her eye twinkles with mirth. Not that she wasn't capable of it, because she was, but in this case she was definitely joking. Not that they had the sort of relationship for him to know that.

It was too late to overthink it, now.

Remi returns her gaze to follow the man's movements, from the way he sets down his cigar right down to the bend in his hip.
When she looks back up, the only ball he has left to sink is the eight. She had to wonder if that was a euphemism for her current situation.

"Both."

Briefly, her focus fades as she disappears into her thoughts. She thinks back to where she had started, clad in ranger gear and with a clear-cut goal in mind. How far she had fallen.

But at least her experience with Pokemon had aided in where she was, now. It was the little things.

"Do you need something moved?"

virgil roach

☉

he chuckled, but he knew a viper when he saw one. he didn’t doubt that she had fangs. these days, he was seeing snakes everywhere. lucifer was slithering up every spine in slateport.

as for euphemisms, i don’t know what you’re talking about. stick and balls, stick and balls.

both?

a good multi-tasker was always appreciated. but it did raise the question: why did she need him? he supposed he shouldn’t care, so long as he got his cut with no trouble.

“i don’ need shit,” he clarified, eyes lowering on the eight as he bent. “sounds like you don’t neither.” a breath, a stroke, and the game was over. the eight fell into the pocket over others with the satisfying click of hard resin.

he straightened, and whiskey eyes looked up at her, something sharp in their laziness.

“yer here to make cash off’a my road. i got a toll, and two laws: don’t fuck shit up, and no strangers.”

he leaned wood and ivory against a column, traded for sharp honey and beautiful glass.

“so who’re yer friends?”

Remi Cassel

☉

"Hm."

He had to be lying-- everyone needs something. But she lets it slide and doesn't push. She doesn't care, in the end, she's just looking to get paid. If he wasn't interested in what she had to offer for work, she'd find someone else. He was just convenient, is what she was telling herself.

"You might be right. You might be wrong."

She regards him, her attention never straying even as the final ball is sunk. He's won, but had she ever even been trying? His rules are simple, too simple, maybe. Vague, too, with plenty of room for fucking shit up and involving strangers.

"Guess I'd better quit bein' a stranger then, hm?"

There is a slightly seductive smirk that flits across her expression - but it fades quickly.

"No friends, just me. You can search me, if you'd like."

virgil roach

☉

“mm.”

he leaned against the column, whiskey in hand, and taking the burning cigar in the other again. he swirled the ashes off of it in the tray before taking another puff, making the air between them potent once more.

of needing to get to know each other, he responded, “guess so.”

an eyebrow raised at the nature of her smirk, then, and he shifted lightly. that had been unexpected, but he wouldn’t be distracted in the middle of such a business proposition—especially one he didn’t trust yet.

anything else could be investigated and taken care of later.

“i ain’t gonna search ya.” yet, maybe. “but i also ain’t gon’ play any guessin’ games. i don’t think i need to remind you whose place yer in right now.”

by knowing the code to get in, she could have been sent by any number of entities, rocket-affiliated, or otherwise. this had not always been rocket’s speakeasy, after all, and still, others passed through unbothered.

“you got friends, ‘r else you wouldn’t’a known about my operation, or how to get in that door over there.” he nodded towards the entrance, glass raising to gesture briefly.

Remi Cassel

☉

"A shame. I was looking forward to one."

Inappropriate? Definitely, but she speaks confidently and easily, and he doesn't appear to be turning her away. Still, playing with fire was her specialty, and she bases her approach off of experience.

Which doesn't make it any less genuine.

"I just have a silver tongue. Perhaps you should be looking more closely into who you share your information with."

She raises her brows to challenge him, but she means it. The grunt she'd cornered and convinced with the sway of her hips and lips pressed to skin had spilled with ease. Information for pleasure was not an unfamiliar or uncomfortable tactic for the woman.

"I get what I need."

And evidently, she needed him.

virgil roach

☉

the light shifted in his eye, and his tongue moved inside his mouth. maybe he was hungry.

“were ya, now?”

later, then. and, of course, he figured later didn’t have to be but ten minutes—if they could come to some sort of trustworthy agreement—but what rush was he in?

he took a sip from his glass, swishing hot whiskey lightly on his tongue before swallowing it down.

“hm.”

not much of a response. after a moment of staring at her, he asked, “you wan’ play again?”

she’d been on the hunt, and she’d found him. what now? he had an incredibly vague idea of her skillset, and there was more he needed to know.

Remi Cassel

☉

"Mhm."

She smiles again, an amused upturn of her lips that suggests she might be a little more than friendly.

"Sure, boss. I'd love to."

But before they get started, she orders herself a glass of whiskey to match. She slides payment across the bar, paying up front. When she returns, she gestures to the table as a request to set the stage herself this time.

Once set, she leans back and takes a sip, warmth spilling all the way down her throat and into her fingertips.

"After you."

virgil roach

☉

boss. actual employees of ritual and past bartenders had called him the same, perhaps as they felt it sounded more respectful than roach. he didn’t mind either way, but coming from a stranger, however attractive, didn’t sound quite right.

still he smirked, quirked a brow, and shook his head at her antics. who the fuck was this woman?

at her gesture, the other side of his mouth curled up just as high, flashing teeth.

“you lost; rack ‘em up.” his finger did a lazy loopdie-loop off his glass, as if to will her to further action.

once the table was set again, all was set down and he took up wood and ivory once more.

“thank ya, ma’am.”

hooking over felt and grabbing towards the very back of the stick, he then drove it with controlled force towards the center with a resounding smack, sending balls to the walls, and two into pockets.

then, he began to clear the table, silently and at a rather leisurely pace. once or twice, he glanced up at her. this was her time to talk about herself.

Remi Cassel

☉

'Ma'am', not sure I like that.

She purses her lips and studies him for a moment. The resounding smack of the balls being scattered tugs her attention away temporarily, if only because he's managed to sink two in one breath. But while he inches around and around the table, leaning this way and that to sink more and more, her eyes wander.

"I'm here looking for my brother."

She swallows as if the statement makes her ill. With a sharp intake of breath, her fingers tighten around the pole she holds, her attention falling into the bottom of her glass as she takes another sip.

"Well.. I was."

He was dead.

"Hoenn keeps secrets, and I'd like to uncover a few."

virgil roach

☉

looking for her brother.

roach glanced lazily over his shoulder at the people sitting on the couch, obscured by cigar smoke, wondering if she meant here specifically.

was, she said, then.

he looked up, catching the way she stared into the glass. he knew that look. truth be told, it wasn’t hard to garner sympathy from virgil roach. his face softened the slightest bit, but he continued with his shots.

“tch. secrets.” he chuckled. “hoenn’s a goddamn mystery, i’ll give ya that.”

three from the eight.

“yer brother why you ended up in my bar, too?”

two from the eight. he kept going.

Remi Cassel

☉

Remi follows the direction of his gaze, mostly out of habit. It keeps her mind occupied and distracted, keeps the pressure off the impossible weight in her chest that threatens to bury her.

Seeing through the eyes of someone else was always her crutch.

But here she is now, following his gaze through the reflection of her glass, unwilling to truly perceive. He catches her then, and she lifts the glass to her lips to avoid talking about the situation further. Remi grips the glass tighter, fingertip pressing hard against the edge of the glass.

"Hm, yeah."

All of a sudden, she seems far away. The glass is set down and she leans her cheek against her thumb while its wrapped around her pole. It doesn't even occur to her that he's almost won without stopping.

"No," she scoffs, chewing the inside of her lip. "I just don't know where to go from here."

virgil roach

☉

after the ball had sunk and he raised back up again, she was far from staring at him, and more about 1000 yards off. he noted it, but his attention turned back to the game until he took his last shot. it dropped into the pocket and ended the game a satisfying clack.

“huh.”

standing straight, he leaned his cue stick into one of the slots against the ledge. what was there to say? he could assume she meant he was dead, but he wasn’t going to press. he felt bad for her, because clearly something had happened—but in all truth, he wasn’t that interested in the specifics.

shit happens, he’d come to realize.

he gave a small huff, strange amusement lazing in it somewhere. lost, maybe, but she was determined to do something, clearly. “well, miss remi, you seem like an awfully intrepid woman. i reckon you’ll fig’re it out.”

he reclaimed his whiskey and took that last good sip. “now, why don’t you come have a drink with me, ‘n we can get down t’ business.”

he licked his lips and nodded towards the bar, already on the way there.

Remi Cassel

☉

The last clack draws her attention back, and she realizes that the game is over. It makes her laugh, a short, breathy chuckle.

"Intrepid, that's an interesting description. I'm not sure I've ever heard that one before."

But she nods, pressing her lips to the back of her hand while she leans against her pole. Eventually, when she realizes that he's putting his own away, she moves from her position to place hers on the rack as well. Her eyes trail back to him once more, to his lips pressed against the glass as he finishes his drink.

His request lifts her eyebrows and he doesn't wait for her. So she follows him, leans against the bar beside him.

"You wouldn't happen to horseback ride would you?"

virgil roach

☉