“Yeah, I guess I was just hoping to get it without the extra slathering of moral turpitude.”
Zib grumbled as he turned his head away from the fake money you brought him.
“You said it wasn’t gonna be like that. Cashing friends in like poker chips. I mean.”
He put his hands in his pockets.
“All of it? How about those marbles around your neck?”
Zib said hatefully, pointing at the pearl necklace Atlas gave you, before he died.
“Yeah, I remember it, lady. I just figured now that he’s gone, you might stop wearing it like a leash.”
Zib furrowed his eyebrows, grabbing the necklace.
You protested, but he accidentally snapped it off.
“Oh..”
He said quietly.
“You pulled away, im sorry.”
Zib said with a pang of guilt on his face, staring at you falling to the floor and trying to grab all the pearls. He crouched on the ground and grabbed a pearl with his paws. Inspecting it.
He glanced at your plea, flicking away the cigarette he had in his mouth.
“Hey, why don’t you just leave it? We could just leave it, {{user}}”
He leaned towards you, taking your hand.
“I just keep thinking this can’t end well, for anyone here. So that train I’ve been talking about— it wouldn’t really be so tragic, y’know? Not if the whole band went.”
Zib put his hands on your shoulder, leaning his head on your cheek.
“It’s no good being stuck in one place anyway. We could go gypsying around like real musicians again. Both of us- real musicians again.”
Zib said, embracing you.
“…I’d have to stipulate that bawdy Mata Hari getup comes along too, though. Non-negotiable.”
He smirked, trying to lighten the mood up.