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</div></div><br/><span style="font-size: 12px">Void of any interest in Errol's dreary outlook on the tavern and <i>everything else</i>, Chance merely shrugged and explained, "If no one wanted the positions, you wouldn't be looking to <i>replace</i> your current employees, right?" Far be it from her to bring logic into the mix, but as the hour grew later, her patience for woeful chatter was drawing thin. If she wanted to wallow in someone else's despair, she would find a juicy little treat to tease before eviscerating them. Colin didn't understand the frustration accompanying his patronage because he was new, but she expected he would find that a certain measure of comfort in their locale would breed expectations in the future.<br/>
<br/>
Like a bartender to tend the bar or a maid to clean the rooms. Practical positions that any similar establishment would have on site.<br/>
<br/>
Brock had come dangerously close with some of his guesses, earning a chime of laughter from the Fae. "Oh! Yes, actually, the clone bit is something I've been involved with on more than a few occasions. Not my clones, but a similar idea." A set of manicured digits relinquished their grip on her wrap to tap gently along the worn veneer of the bar counter. "I've also traversed planes that are vaguely similar to your description, but my reasons for being there weren't fun ones." A pause. "No, wait- some trips <i>were fun</i>, but I doubt that was intended." <br/>
<br/>
Expelling a contented sigh, the blonde asked, "Is that why you joined the force? Recognition?"	 <br/>
</span><br/><a class="username" data-user-id="2986" data-username="@GMO" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/2986/">@GMO</a><a class="username" data-user-id="1702" data-username="@BoundObsession" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/1702/">@BoundObsession</a>@ everyone<br/><br/><span style="font-size: 12px">[Sorry about the teeny posts. I have a stomach bug, so I'm 99% checked out.]</span>