His jaw flexes. He doesn't do anything. He presses his tongue to his lip, not looking up to Zach when he answers. "Deal in luck. Gold." Sweeney gives an uncomfortable shrug.
"Blessin' of Luck in trade fer offerin's. See ta turns of it on occasion."
Sweeney thinks on it for a moment and then glances at Zach. Really, he doesn't generally give a shit about learning more about people. But normally they don't ask him about it directly.
"Whad'ya want from yer inmates?" That's the only thing that's really important.
Well, that sure is a question. Zack thinks about that for a second, rubs the back of his head, and lets out a sigh.
"I mean - at the bare minimum, I'd like for people not to kill each other, but that's a general rule, not specific to just inmates."
It feels stupid even saying that. To him, it seems like that should just be a given, but after being here for a few months, apparently, it is not.
"As far as other expectations go, the only thing I'd really like to do is check in once a week, see how you're doing. If there's something you need help with or want that you don't already have, we can talk about it."
In other words, he doesn't want to be breathing down someone's neck - especially if they don't want it.
He tips his head in acknowledgment about killing folk. Not that he wants to; obviously it's been a large part of how he ended up being here, but also...people here seem to have extremely strong opinions and reactions about it. No one is worth that, especially if they're going to immediately become Not Dead again. What the actual fuck.
Sweeney nods more clearly about the check in. That's easy enough. He goes to work weekly after all; maybe he could do it the same day and two birds, one stone that shit. Leave plenty of time for being drunk and not responsible.
At the offer of getting him things, Sweeney eyes darken. It's not the man's fault that he can't get him what he truly desires.
He shakes his head slightly. "It's fine. Don't need much." Which is true. He's used to surviving on very little.
"Sure." The tone and simplicity of the answer summarizes how much Sweeney does not care about this but is willing to go through the motions. This is the deal. This gives him the best chance of staying. And though he fights to avoid the thought, being here is far better than Hell or Nothingness.
He tips the bottle towards Zach, implying agreement to the terms, and he seals it with a long swig.
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He sits back a bit and looks at Sweeney thoughtfully. "What do you do, then? Or...I guess, what do leprechauns do, in general?"
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"Blessin' of Luck in trade fer offerin's. See ta turns of it on occasion."
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Expression thoughtful, he lets out a soft hum.
"Sounds fair."
Zack isn't religious in any aspect, but the idea of offerings in exchange for favors makes sense to him.
"So now that I've asked you a bunch of questions - do you have any for me?"
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"Whad'ya want from yer inmates?" That's the only thing that's really important.
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"I mean - at the bare minimum, I'd like for people not to kill each other, but that's a general rule, not specific to just inmates."
It feels stupid even saying that. To him, it seems like that should just be a given, but after being here for a few months, apparently, it is not.
"As far as other expectations go, the only thing I'd really like to do is check in once a week, see how you're doing. If there's something you need help with or want that you don't already have, we can talk about it."
In other words, he doesn't want to be breathing down someone's neck - especially if they don't want it.
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Sweeney nods more clearly about the check in. That's easy enough. He goes to work weekly after all; maybe he could do it the same day and two birds, one stone that shit. Leave plenty of time for being drunk and not responsible.
At the offer of getting him things, Sweeney eyes darken. It's not the man's fault that he can't get him what he truly desires.
He shakes his head slightly. "It's fine. Don't need much." Which is true. He's used to surviving on very little.
"An' weekly ain't a problem."
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"Great. Same time, same place, next week?"
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He tips the bottle towards Zach, implying agreement to the terms, and he seals it with a long swig.