last year’s fire was still a sore spot in roach’s ego, but he let it roll off as usual with a smile. then, he was onto making himself a whiskey.

”i didn’t name it. kept it from the last owner, but he told me he named it that so people would come back. y’know, like part o’ their daily ritual.”

a cork popped. gold poured into delicately cut glass.

”she fixed back up pretty nice, i think—‘cept for this poor ole bartop.” he patted a hand on it, near its darkened scars. ”still can’t bring m’self to part with it.” it was far older than he was.

MATIAS SILPH

☉

a new bartender set an empty tumbler down on the mahogany bar top. poured a well, placed a small square napkin, and served his whiskey. she then walked around a corner, drying her hands with a towel on the way.

”hey, roach...”

soon, he was on his way. a scruffy man in a hat, who looked more like a rancher than a city-slick businessman. he went behind the bar to address him face-to-face. of course he knew of matias silph. he was on tv all the time, and his brother FERNANDO SILPH was a welcome face at ritual—here on the upper level, at least.

”matias silph.” he held out a hand and flashed a crooked smile. ”pleasure t’meetchya. my name’s roach. i’m the owner. what can i do for you?”

MATIAS SILPH

☉

his chin gave a quick little nod to the right, and that was the end of that. nothing to it, roach just liked to fuck with people sometimes.

another strike with the pick-axe, and he saw the glimmer of something in crater. he brushed at it with his hand.

”well, sure. i own a bar in slateport. ye ever heard o’ ritual?”

in the light, under his hand shined yellow-green and he noted aloud, ”thunder stone, i think.”

DANNY HALL

☉

being on time to meetings like the ones they were bound to have definitely was a good thing. roach did not like waiting on deliveries. not for liquor, not for money, and certainly not for slowbro. if she made good on her promise, he’d be happy to work with her.

”150 PD each. but if any of ‘em still got shells on ‘em, it’s 100.” and that was a fair offer, in his book.

he laced his fingers, still reclined in his chair. his head fell to the side a little. as always, he wondered how much he could get out of her. was she shaken down easily?

”where ye gettin’ ‘em from?”

maeve

☉

he was a fan of the woodwork here, definitely. it had been one of his primary reasons for purchasing the bar. it had a rare, timeless feel to it. ”well, thankya.”

”mm, slowpoke do tend t’ be more popular.”

a permanent position? well, imagine that. another one, asking for a leap of faith.

”now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. i’m a businessman, miss malandra. i don’t make blind promises.” he chuckled. ”hell, i don’t even trust my bartenders t’ come t’ work.”

he sat back in his chair.

”’fraid yer gonna have t’ be competitively priced either way. you make good on a first delivery, and we can talk about the future.

maeve

☉

months prior, he’d gotten quick word of never before seen, rare horses appearing after carrots grown from strange seeds on mt pyre and in shoal cave. since then, he’d been looking for something similar. however, during his search, he had come upon something else. gracidea seeds, also rumored to be quite special.

he walked through the wood. petalburg blossomed in spring, rendering it a beautiful pastel wonderland of its own. the pink reflected on his aging face in bright, warm daylight as he walked towards a place to test his green thumb.

@ven

☉

”sure, sure. that’s what they all say.” pretty faces.

he was as still as he could be while she went to work on her technicholor masterpiece. when she was done, his eyelashes fluttered open and he looked into the mirror.

”looks great!”

it was cute. he grinned.

”what now?”

@jessica

☉

”m.”

he regarded the younger man for a moment with a stare that looked far more intuitive than it was. a show. sometimes, he could scare them straight.

”well, i don’ know ye like that. i’d say you know better than i do.” his teeth flashed again, and he came back around. ”you, and that ole bird over there.”

he spit onto the dusty ground, swung his axe again, and fell into silence.

DANNY HALL

☉

he’d had the thought to raise on the seven, but refrained. his eyes remained on Raphael Pryde as he turned over the second card. he considered the vast possibilities thus far. pryde was a hard man to read.

his mouth curled at the edge. still, he refrained. ”call.” slid two chips into the pot, a red and blue.

roach calls the bet at 15 PD
rolling for insight
ckVYRM4o

Raphael Pryde Cillian Quinn Rowan Wrynn ryuuzaki amemiya Martín del Mar

☉

the cigar popped in his mouth to free up his right hand to shake, before he took it between two fingers again. the smoke spiraled. maeve malandra. what a name.

”well, i appreciate that, maeve.” his eyes smiled with the rest of his face, friendly but sharp. behind an easygoing exterior, he was always deeply analyzing in these moments of a first impression—especially down here.

his teeth flashed at her boldness. there was little need to worry in this area of the bar, but he could respect her discretion. it was a good sign, even.

”sure. my office is upstairs.” he got up. ”follow me, please.”

if she obliged, he’d lead the way up, over elaborate rugs and dark wood furnishings, and open the door. the office was surprisingly small, with a desk perhaps too big for it. there were chairs on either side.

maeve

☉

kept on the move. ”right,” he followed while watching out at the water. reeled his line to a certain spot, before wedging the butt of the rod in a hole near the edge of the dock. he left it there, and went to bait one more.

the full cost of piloting a trip to dewford and back was lost on roach, but it was more than a modest hop from slateport. ”agh, y’makin’ money though, ain’tcha?” making it back and then some, at least, as far as he figured.

and what about him? ”just hangin’ out, drankin’ whiskey. you know me.” far from the truth, and angelo knew that, but roach hadn’t gotten where he was by talking about his business.

but he would at least share one exciting detail. ”do got a new bar openin’ up.”

the shot of water spat into boomer’s face surprised the cubone. easy to rile, he wound back and threw his small femur in return—but it dropped short, falling with a splash into the pool below.

angelo vestri

☉

slate, ritual’s senior bartender, was there that night. every night, really. the gaunt old man had never missed a shift. his tall, grey, unsmiling form was like an ever-lingering shadow, as much a fixture as the lamps and the leather couches.

he didn’t seem at all affected by her order. ”absolutely,” his low voice obliged, and he turned to get to work. he had seen roach rise from his place lounging nearby. a whiskey in hand, a cigar hanging from his mouth, the proprietor approached leisurely.

”howdy,” he greeted, as he slid into the stool next to her. the cigar smoked from his hand as he looked over. ”to whom do i owe the pleasure?”

maeve

☉