#baronyofthesilverwolf

Scribbly pencil, but a few other chimes from nearby.

"apologies, then" She opens the door "Ivan, stay out side here"

And abrupt silence as the Nevers hide. Thistle squints and frowns. "Huh?" Now she looks up.

She seems unfazed by Al's attempt but does says "This is your hearth. I try to respect that. My apologies if I was a rude guest"

"Damn sparkbugs bad enough." He grumbles, still giving Gwen a rude look over. "You here to eat, or just get on my nerves?"

'i'm here for the warm ambiance and welcoming staff" She says "And to ask your help."

She motions "Want a burger, Thistle? My treat"

She tilts her head. "Uh. Hey Gwen. Sure?"

"Ain't on the menu, I ain't offering it." He begrudgingly tosses a few menus their way. "Already said as much, and I ain't FOND of repeatin' myself."

"You said as much? To whom?" She says "And a burger please, what ever she wants on it"

His expression goes from annoyed to wary. "What's it to ya?"

"What it's to both of us I think, unless you really hate Briar" SHe pays for the burger

Thistle wanders closer, sketchbook under one arm.

Al gives a glance over at Thistle, it reads something along the lines of, "is this b**&% for real?"

"Ain't no rats in my kitchen. You can check wit' the Health inspector if you want. Them's the only authority what I listen to these days."

Another squint.

He squints back, turning to slap a patty of meat onto the griddle which hisses and spatters loudly.

"do i look like I'm giving orders? I'm asking for help and I think, a part of you is wanting to give it. " She lowers her voice, though Thistle can hear it "Briar came here wanting to ask questions about being a redcap. You turned her away, that's your right. But she's fallen in with a new crowd, and I think they're taking advantage of her. Or might be. "

"I don't think they can help being tight-assed. But also, really, really bad at lying."

"So probably no tricks from Paul Bunyan here."

A nod to Thistle, "Thank you. " A beat " I think"

He slaps some onions onto the griddle. The atmosphere might be tense and uncomfortable, but it smells delicious. Outside, Ivan finds his mouth watering too.

"I ain't no snitch. The dragon's dog don't mean shit to me, but I ain't ratting out even a crotch dropping like that."

A measured glance over at Thistle, and he shrugs a bit, acknowledging her. "Pickles?" He growls.

Hand hovering near the jar.

"You know it."

"...Is Briar in trouble?"

Gladiola hopes Thistle's question gets more response than hers did

"Might be, if Bunyan here outs her to her boss." He slaps a double-helping of pickles on the burger, extra mustard, hold the mayo.

It occurs to Gwen that she may not have actually asked a question, though she got a sideways answer - Briar perhaps did do something, it seems, that Al thinks is worth punishing - at least, enough so that he won't turn her in on it.

She hums, concerned. "Briar's safe where she's at? She's a scary little terror, but... dunno, I tolerate her, you know? She has some decent ideas for projects."

"I don't want to punish Briar. I want to help her. And clearly you think she did something the barons wouldn't approve of or you wouldn't word it, but that's not my goal. I want to help her... I want to make sure she's not getting in deep shit for HER sake, not because I want to punish her" A nod to Thistle "What she says. "

"Dunno where she at. Might not tell you if I did." He growls, turning to slap a basket of fries into the hot oil. It splashes from the sharp motion, a few droplets of boiling hot fat hitting his arms and sizzling, adding new burns to the pockmarked skin.

Still, his posture is stiff, considering, and he takes a bite out of an aluminum scraper, almost absently. Al chews.

He says, "I don't judge who I serve. Anyone hungry, they behave, they pay their tab, they can come and eat."

A long pause, and Al adds, "I serve anyone. I don't serve anything. My meat is quality. BEEF. I don't serve long pork, no matter who does the asking." A dark glower over at them as he slaps the plate down and slides it towards Thistle. "Not that I'm saying anyone did, or who it was."

Grumble. "Didn't ask where she was, asked if the brat was safe."

Sniff and a bite. "Ain't drek, as always."

A wince, then "Al, if .. a cap gets a taste for long pork. is there a way to help her break the ... I don't want to say addiction, but.. you know what i mean?"

He shrugs. Expressive enough. Doesn't know, or doesn't care? In response to Thistle.

She doesn't even know if there IS an addition to human flesh, but the way he words it

"Course it ain't." A jaw jut, appreciating the compliment.

A look at Al waiting

hoping

A snort. "There's one cure to everything." As he washes off the knife he'd used to slice onions, then thunks it ominously into a block. "Yer master might have another." A spatula dropped into a drawer, and the drawer slammed tightly shut. "Out of my pay grade. That said... food ain't an addiction. Not that I know of. But no one forgets their first taste of caviar, eh?" A deep, angry glower.

"Frankly, and I hate myself a little for possibly betraying my mother like this, but you have the best Burger I've ever tasted. I think asking for meat substitutions from you is foolish. You don't tell an artist what canvas to use. My concern is for Briar and how this will ultimately hurt her. Believe that or don't. If you can help more, i'd be grateful. If you can't, thank yu for your time"

Thistle frowns at her burger.

"Everybody fucks up sometimes. People keep telling me (^%^() can still be fixed."

"Everyone fucks up sometimes" She nods to Thistle "but it's a lot easier to get a second chance when you stop digging a hole sooner than later to put yourself in"

He eyes Thistle for a long moment.

"There's thems what DO have an addiction to the taste. But they ain't redcaps. Some call 'em cousins, but I ain't sharing none of my family tree. Some better cut out from the roots. I got too much respect for my trade to cater to 'em." He slaps at a stain on the counter with a rag. "I guess I don't serve everyone, after all."

"Like... oh, fuck."

"Wait... who are these flesh eating cousins?" Alarm.

"I met this one (&^%$()-(&. Tried to steal my brother."