"...because i have so much to lose from getting involved in your business."[break][break]

but he supposes a compromise has to be made. it seems roach is not a very trusting man. for good reason, matias imagines.[break][break]

his finger taps against the counter in thought.[break][break]

"what do you need from me?"

[attr="class","ooc"]virgil roach[break]

[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-virizion"]

matias might’ve not been strait-laced, per se, but he was still no hardened criminal. this was weak. this was sketchy. it felt like a bizarre stalemate. the tap of the tattooed man’s fingers was louder in his head than it should’ve been, agitating in a tense moment.

”i need proof that yer not just workin' for the league.”

if this was to be a long-term business arrangement, matias would likely be exposed to enough information over time to bring him down for good. only people willing to incriminate themselves were privy to information.

”i need you t' do a job for me.”

MATIAS SILPH

☉

this time, matias is unable to help the "tch," that escapes. what should've been a simple deal is taking longer than anticipated.[break][break]

job, contract, or otherwise, it seems a compromise will have to be made.[break][break]

the whiskey burns down the back of his throat.[break][break]

"go on."

[attr="class","ooc"]virgil roach[break]

[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-virizion"]

roach considered for a long moment.

”y’know what? that’s up to you.”

he finally moved closer towards the bar again and pulled a cigar from his pocket. a cutter’s blade wrapped around the cap and he squeezed. his eyes were focused what he was doing, no longer as suspicious of matias as he had been.

”you think you know my business? then i’m sure you can think o’ somethin’ to prove to me you’re cut out to be a part of it. money ain’t the most valuable thing in the world.” freedom was. ”it ain’t nothin’ personal.”

MATIAS SILPH

☉

is this deal even worth it? he considers it again while roach speaks. to trade his freedom for some information that may or may not ever prove useful.[break][break]

matias has always liked to live life dangerously. this should be no different. not to mention how he's already compromised himself with rocket.[break][break]

so, he pulls out a flash drive, placing it on the counter between them.[break][break]

"the recording on there should be enough to strip me of my position and standing in the league."[break][break]

it's the same recording he had once shared to free Melody Miro. the recording that reveals how he knew of sootpolis' invasion weeks prior but did nothing.

[attr="class","ooc"]virgil roach[break]

[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-virizion"]

his hand came up briefly, finger running through his mustache as his brows knitted skeptically.

”well, ain’t that convenient. you always carry around incriminatin’ evidence, just in case?”

regardless, he swiped the flash drive, setting it beside him before picking up the cigar again.

”you certainly have my curiosity, i’ll give ya that. i ain’t got a computer here, though, so you’re gon’ have to wait. gotta shut down this bar tonight cause i can’t find any gotdang reliable help around here.”

a flame danced from a small torch, lighting up the texture of his face as he toasted edges of peppery tobacco.

”but if ye want, you can leave yer number, ‘n i’ll get back to ya tomorrow, er the next day…”

MATIAS SILPH

☉

"tch."[break][break]

useless.[break][break]

he reaches for the flash drive, looking to pocket it away because there's little chance he'll leave it here for roach without a guarantee.[break][break]

"i'll come back tomorrow. make sure you have a computer with you."[break][break]

annoyance flares but quickly calms; a trait most water-types possess.

[attr="class","ooc"]virgil roach[break]

[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-virizion"]

he watched the flash-drive disappear from in front of him, unflinching. if it was supposed to look like gold, water-type matias hadn’t sold it well enough. despite the apparent lack of business, ritual’s owner possessed a prosperity that had come only by passing on the wrong deals.

as matias announced his leave, he nodded a casual parting, ”have a good’n.”

no way in hell he was lugging his dusty-ass 1994 computer tower to the bar, on any day. perhaps matias would find out tomorrow that he didn’t take orders, unless they were for drinks.

MATIAS SILPH

☉