raza
The sound of footsteps makes Raza turn ‘round and well - she doesn’t expect whoever it is walkin’ through her swingin’ doors. A stranger, and an excessively pale one at that.
Raising a brow at their request, Raza verbally hems and haws before decdin’ that they probably aren’t that threatening and in stories, it was always the oddballs who have somethin’ worthwhile. And other than going directly to Jack himself, they’d probably come to the right place. So, holdin’ the mop in one hand, she puts her other hand on her hip and faces the stranger square on.
“Aight. I’m listenin’” Lookin’ at them expectantly, it’s an expression that clearly says, but not for long.
Raising a brow at their request, Raza verbally hems and haws before decdin’ that they probably aren’t that threatening and in stories, it was always the oddballs who have somethin’ worthwhile. And other than going directly to Jack himself, they’d probably come to the right place. So, holdin’ the mop in one hand, she puts her other hand on her hip and faces the stranger square on.
“Aight. I’m listenin’” Lookin’ at them expectantly, it’s an expression that clearly says, but not for long.
