Dirke's gaze was now focused entirely on the bronze glucose bottle. "That is... Very fortunate." He ran his hands across the table and leaned back on the chair. "I'll just ask for today's special with as much of that goodness..." he pointed at the bottle "... As you can cram into a single glass. Oh, and I'll have two right away." With his order out of the way, he turned to the outspoken, chirpy android. Judging how much the bar worker had to say, Dirk had to admit it was a machine after his own heart. And a direct opposite of his travelling companion. "It's no problem, we wouldn't want to chip away at your personal junk collection. I'm afraid metal isn't much useful to G. Zinc powder, though..." he scratched his chin and regretted it almost immidiatelly, touching the healing wound beneath the bandages resulting in sharp pain. Barely visibly wincing, Dirke looked at the crystal android. "Think that will do the trick?"<br/>'G' didn't answer for a while, his lens moving forwards and backwards for a good while. Eventually the android shrugged and extended the not destroyed hand over the counter, waiting for the powder.<br/>"I might want to take a look at the shipyard." The purple alien gestured at the worker android with a raised finger, the other hand rummaging through the surprising amount of pockets in his jacket, most of them sewn in inside the garb. "Might find something off my list and I'd be willing to pay for valuable infor-" Dirke's smile went away for a split second as movement of the searching hand became more and more erratic. Finally, he raised both his hands, chuckled nervously and patted the counter, glancing at his companion and placing a holoprojector of the size of a pin on the metal. "Em... As I was saing... I could pay for information on any item from this list." A blue window popped up from the mechanism, names of rare, chemical compounds slowly moving across the screen. Dirke was clearly upset about something, upbeat tone in his voice now slightly shaking. "Em... All of these compunds are from a single company that used to have turf on the land. It went bankrupt but there are rumours that- You know what?" Dirke turned off the projector and hid it inside his pocket. "Doesn't really matter, can't focus with all this..." he gestured at his face. "... itching and burning. Besides, people come here to get drunk and forget about their job, not talk about it. How're those drinks coming along?"<br/><a class="username" data-user-id="6011" data-username="@Deviant" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/6011/">@Deviant</a><br/><a class="username" data-user-id="7101" data-username="@Sero" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/7101/">@Sero</a>