Both seven suns and seven moons had passed since they hid the drugs. Not a single lawman had come to the door, and the house was clean of anything incriminating.
Noah sat on the floor by the open window, morning light spilling over him as he cut leather to make a shoe. His brow was furrowed, his face set in deep concentration. A few feet away, Weasel lounged on the couch, lazing as usual.
"Weasel." Noah set his knife down beside him and glanced over. "How do you plan to make money, hm?"
Weasel lifted his head and leaned forward slightly. "Dunno… I'll find a way." He dropped back onto the couch, eyes closing again.
Noah's expression soured. He pushed himself up and stepped over, looming above him. "You're getting a job."
Weasel cracked one eye open, a defiant smile creeping onto his face. "Oh, I am? And since when were you my father?"
Noah scoffed, narrowing his eyes. "Do you wanna get put out of here?"
Weasel's gaze dropped to his lap, his face tightening as he thought. "I… didn't think of that." He muttered, pushing himself up and stretching. "Fine. I'll find some type of job. But don't expect me to work full time."
Noah shrugged and returned to the window, picking his knife back up. "As long as the rent gets paid."
Weasel grabbed his coat and house key, then headed out, down the stairs, out of the slums, and toward the main city.
The streets were busy, it being a Saturday. Every step he took, he bumped into someone, muttering "sorry" or "my bad" each time. Before long, no more than a few hundred feet from the slums, he spotted a tavern with a help wanted poster in the window.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The tavern was surprisingly grand, easily large enough to hold a hundred or more people, yet completely empty—save for two women behind the bar. The shorter one reached over and shook the other, who seemed to be drifting off.
"What…" The taller woman stirred, blinking toward Weasel. Up close, her features were clearer, raccoon-like ears, a tail, and pale blue eyes, clear traits of a Lotor. "Oh…" She sighed, rubbing her eyes as she straightened. "Hello, hello… could we interest you in a room, a drink, or…" She yawned, covering her mouth. "Or food…" Her voice was rough, like she had just woken up.
"Uh, actually, I'm here for a job…" Weasel said, glancing around. The place looked untouched, drinks still filled to the brim as if not one customer had visited in a while.
The woman suddenly perked up, as if she suddenly had all the energy in the world. "O-oh!" She hurried around the bar toward him, hand outstretched. "I'm Reger, and behind me is Abraham."
Weasel shook her hand, she had a surprisingly firm grip. Behind her, Abraham gave a silent wave.
"We can actually start your onboarding now," Reger said with a bright smile, one that faded as she noticed Weasel's confusion.
"No interview..?" he asked, a weary tone in his voice.
Reger glanced off to the side, scratching the back of her head. "We're, uh… short-staffed at the moment."
He wasn't fully soothed, but he wasn't as skeptical. "Right," he said. "So… what would I be doing?"
Reger glanced back at Abraham briefly before turning to him again. "Probably just working as a waiter. You'd take orders, bring them to Abraham, then deliver the food and drinks.."
Weasel nodded, a small smile forming. "Right… and when would I start?"
Reger bit her cheek. "Uhh… would today work?"
His expression tightened again. "Today..? Don't you need to put me on payroll or something..?"
She shook her head, still avoiding his eyes. "Nope… well, uh…" She yawned again. "Get acquainted with Abraham, I guess… I'm gonna go take a nap."
Before either him or Abraham could object, she turned and hurried upstairs.
Weasel watched her go in silence, then pinched the bridge of his nose. "I guess, man…"
He walked behind the bar and pulled up a stool beside Abraham. "Hey."
She waved again, still silent.
Weasel stared at her for a moment, then sighed. "You don't talk much, do you?"
She shook her head. Then she stopped briefly, as if deep in thought, before turning toward him and opening her mouth.
"Hm?" Weasel leaned closer, then paused as he realized. She had no tongue.
"How'd that happen..?"
Abraham glanced around before pointing to the Law flag hanging above the entrance.
"The Law did that to you..?"
She nodded.
"Did you get arrested or something?"
She wavered her hand in a vague 'kind of' motion.
"What'd you do?"
She shook her head.
"Nothing?"
A nod.
Weasel frowned, running through possibilities out loud until he landed on one. "Kidnapping?"
She nodded again.
His eyes widened as he leaned in. "Really..? Did they do anything to you?"
She nodded.