was she watching his lips? she was. as far as he could tell, she didn’t need to read them. they curled in a deeper smirk that sank into his whiskers.

he really did try not to let a pretty face distract him from the deal.

”is that right?” he shifted a little, shoulders squaring more in her direction. he was almost sure that he’d caught what he’d been looking for in her gaze.

then, she offered the alternative, and as smart as it would’ve been to opt for it, it sounded much less appetizing.

”now, hold on a second.” the look in his own eyes had changed, most certainly no longer offended, and maybe even a little hungry. ”you comin’ on to me?”

Remi Cassel

☉

the look in her eye derailed his thoughts, and he felt decidedly less offended. although she wasn’t necessarily complimenting his hat, the implication caused him to smirk and hiss lightly through his teeth. he realized she’d caught a weakness, and that he was being a little silly for it.

”thanks.”

her request caught him off guard. his glass paused on its way back down to the bar, before it eventually lowered with a graceful tap on mahogany.

”yeah? whatcha mean, like some kinda work date?” or would they be riding for pleasure?

his head reclined a little to the side, as he analyzed her gaze for whatever he’d caught in it a few moments prior.

Remi Cassel

☉

“oh, pretty face, ‘uh? sheit, chyeah, my ugly mug…” he grinned and shook his head, sipping his drink. ”you ain’t foolin’ me, darlin’.”

his hand swirled his drink on the bar. it was about time for one more shot, and then it was on to the night—but before they could get any further, he found himself being pulled by the vacuum of intoxicated talks. like, a real one. a dark one.

not his comfort zone, really, but oh well. here they were.

”uh… i mean…” family troubles. something like that. ”i think everybody’s got family troubles, jessie. can’t say i ever did feel like a… black sheep, though, no.”

almost reluctantly, then, he asked, ”why? you feel like one?”

@jessica

☉

this was not the first time someone had accused him of this. he was aware of the implication. he looked like a rancher. people liked to make fun of his hat, and holler yeehaw, but on his head it remained, and he was adamant:

“now listen, i may talk like an asshole, but i ain’t no cowboy.”

his face was almost stern, as though she’d perhaps struck a chord.

eyes fell back to his drink and he sipped again, muttering, “it’s just a nice hat.” slateport was full of assholes.

then, he had to clarify, ”i can ride a horse just fine. i’m just sayin’, i don’t ride horses any more than the next guy if that’s what’cher gettin’ at.”

Remi Cassel

☉

he’d only shrugged, and kept walking towards the bar. instead of going around it, he let slate serve them.

“slate. give us the good stuff, please.”

the taller, older man went to grab a bottle that wasn’t even on display, put away in a dark cabinet beside a small humidor. it was clearly whiskey; a deep amber. when the cork was plucked with a pop, a complex collection of spiced, caramelized fruit breathed out of it.

“best whiskey money can buy,” roach announced, as the glasses were set in front of them. liquid gold poured neat into short tumblers. slate’s gaunt face never spoke a word, and he then returned to polishing glassware.

roach took a sip and then looked over at her, scrunching his brow.

“horseback riding?” kind of a weird question. “is it cause’a my hat?”

Remi Cassel

☉

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

☉

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

☉

roach tossed his head back a little with the shot. when the glass hit the counter again, he grinned at her, shaking his head. “woah, woah, now. i never said i needed savin’.” not from her girls, anyways. but he leaned in a little further, his reassurance about as easy to see through as a window. “’sides, you know my eyes are on you.”

her pounding on the bar was a little wild, but it didn’t bother him. he hardly noticed the eyes glancing over at them, or the way the drinks sloshed a little. weak bar? this was why he had solid mahogany.

at the call-out of her coworkers, he shrugged. “hey, gotta make yer money. life’s about takin’ hold of opportunities. early bird gets the worm.” he took a sip of his whiskey. strippers were like car salesmen, descending on the possibility of a profit with a smile, but when both parties were staring at one another like a ripe unfezant, it was especially important to know who was really the prey.

“but i am a loyal patron, jessie, you should know that by now.”

@jessica

☉

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

☉

he grinned, jaw knocking back a little as though he’d been shot by her ‘guns’. “that you are.”

when she ordered another shot, roach did as well, but he’d wait for her.

“oh, that one.” he knew of something like that, closer to the upper district. “hell yeah, getcha that good money.”

at the mention of a show, he smiled, and it curled at the edges deviously.

“jessie,” he drawled, turning towards her and leaning in an inch to fix her with a warm gaze, “now, would i ever give you any kinda answer that wadn’t a ‘yes ma’am’?”

@jessica

☉

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

☉

feeling her body brush against his was always nice. he smirked, relishing in the moment before she let go of him again. a throaty chuckle escaped him.

“i don’t doubt it.”

a hand reached out to squeeze her bicep as she presented it, his smirk only curling more. “look a' that. yer gon’ kick some ass ‘fore the night’s over, ain’tcha? better put them guns away, ‘fore we get kicked outta here.”

his crooked grin flashed like a wolf under a full moon, and he took the shot with her.

“yeup. give that a minute,” he suggested, sitting back from the bar again with an audible, contented sigh.

and he really only meant a minute—enough time for the burn to settle before he craved it again.

”so where you dancin’ at this week?”

@jessica

☉