Raza
Raza chuckles, a throaty, appraising sound accompanied by an easy grin. “Good question,” she replies. A smart question. Some just said yes and regretted it later when their number came up, but otherwise, the trading of favors is well known and established. A different, comparable kind of currency. “I’d expect as much from Felix’s kid.” Turning away to grab a scrap of paper and a pencil, Raza scratches a name and a few directions to a distiller and then folds it up.“Don’t worry, this isn’t the big leagues yet. Information, an item, an whispered something to someone at the right time. Nothing to put you or yours in danger.” Holding the paper aloft, Raza will wait to extend it to Ray if she agrees to the vague, but outlined parameters of what kind of favor she might be looking for.
“Your other business, however - that might be the big leagues.” With a smooth gesture for the girl to continue, the bar owner waits to see what she might be presented with.
reppin' a district of obvious misfits
