She hadn’t really been paying much attention to the people at the bar. The place was well staffed at the moment for how quiet it is, so she knew she didn’t need to work yet. She’d take her place behind the bar later tonight, either with Korbin or one of the other bartenders, and she’d drink and flirt her way through the evening as she usually did. Korbin would scowl at her for that, because he didn’t quite seem to understand that her behavior was calculated. She knew exactly what she was doing, and so did Sunjata when he’d given her the bar. The point was not to be well behaved, but rather, the opposite. To gain the trust of her drunken clients and learn their secrets.
A familiar voice cuts into her thoughts though, and she turns, finally paying proper attention to see Chuy there. ”Chuy. Good to see you.” He’d become something of a regular face around here, and she really did love her regulars. The more the merrier. ”New tattoo,” she says, holding up the wrist with the bandage. ”Honestly, it’s healed, I’m just a bit superstitious and I still like to wrap them for a day. Just to make sure I don’t accidently mess it up.” Not that she was likely to do so, but still, she couldn’t help herself. Though she’d healed the wound herself, her healing skills far subpar to Loren’s, but at least her magic was capable of something so small as the pinpricks left behind from the needle.
”Are you busy or bored?” she asks, not really sure why she’s going to invite him along except that she always likes company and a second opinion. ”I was about to go check on a batch of cider and maybe work on some of these recipes. Care to join me?” She holds the book up slightly, a well-loved notebook that was full of Maea’s brothers recipes. She may be dead, but Maea was certainly not gone.
A familiar voice cuts into her thoughts though, and she turns, finally paying proper attention to see Chuy there. ”Chuy. Good to see you.” He’d become something of a regular face around here, and she really did love her regulars. The more the merrier. ”New tattoo,” she says, holding up the wrist with the bandage. ”Honestly, it’s healed, I’m just a bit superstitious and I still like to wrap them for a day. Just to make sure I don’t accidently mess it up.” Not that she was likely to do so, but still, she couldn’t help herself. Though she’d healed the wound herself, her healing skills far subpar to Loren’s, but at least her magic was capable of something so small as the pinpricks left behind from the needle.
”Are you busy or bored?” she asks, not really sure why she’s going to invite him along except that she always likes company and a second opinion. ”I was about to go check on a batch of cider and maybe work on some of these recipes. Care to join me?” She holds the book up slightly, a well-loved notebook that was full of Maea’s brothers recipes. She may be dead, but Maea was certainly not gone.
weaver
-- kiss you like a whiskey fire --
