12-02-2009, 06:08 PM
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"That's one hell of a trip just to score some bud," he said with a grin, the impish glint in his eye making it obvious it was a joke. Clearly nobody would do such a thing, but on first glance the Russian seemed pretty laid back and the bronze hybrid assumed he would appreciate the humour. It was a subtle invitation to further the conversation, anyway; what brings you to this half of the globe? Anselm was always astounded by the (insane) journeys folks like Rurik, Savina, or Alacrity embarked on--though he liked to swim and had screwed around on lake-bound rafts before, nobody would be getting him on a sea-faring vessel any time soon (or ever, really). "But I dunno, I'd be willing to take a look at almost anything you've got. Kind of hoping to expand business past the green next year..." he trailed off shortly with a shrug. He didn't necessarily expect others to carry random seeds on their person, if they even had any drugs at all. Still, it hardly hurt to ask. There were other forms of payment not necessarily contingent on material goods, as well; although Anselm wasn't much of a boozehound himself, he understood simple ethyl alcohol to be quite valuable as well. He also understood that it could be made using "archaic" processes, but as to the details he was clueless. Picking through the couch cushions for the fluorescent orange lighter that had slipped through the crack, he deposited it easily on the table once his company was comfortable, using it to nudge the bowl closer to the greyscale wolf before letting go--he was already fairly toasted, and he didn't mind if Rurik took the first couple of hits. The mention of the Aquila's name was somewhat surprising, and his ears twitched just slightly and his head cocked to one side imperceptibly as he mulled over the words. "Small world, eh?" Ironic. "Didn't know my cousin had friends from Russia," he mused aloud.
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