#so mercer gets to treat him any v-day l ma o

[bxynjolf]

"heart's day is tomorrow." noted rather blandly, gaze not once straying from the sprawled handwriting that collected on the pages of the ledger. "have any plans? aside from the usual market schemes, i mean." [i don't know what i'm doing but have this]

                    ❝S’pose it all depends, yeah? ❞      In a way, it truly did. What would Brahms, one skeezy bastard of a merchant, allow to pass through the tariff ridden bay of Solstheim to their awaiting mitts? What manner of mischief would their latest bloom of a recruit get up to---would a grave failure be scraped off the stonework or would a smug announcement of success be delivered with gold and a grin to Mercer? 

     What work could be shifted, delayed, or paused for a proper romp in the hay with that darling lass passing through the Bee and Barb? 

     Very little, Brynjolf thought, as brilliant, spring eyes roam idle parchment. So few hands could be spared. Now more than ever, really. Not to mention, their beloved sour-shaft of a cabbage Guildmaster never did seem to permit any recreation with the bonnie babes that passed through the Rift. Not that the Second of Thieves had evidence of this; more so, just a sneaking suspicion. 

                       So, his response is delivered with a prompt smirk. 

                    ❝You treatin’ a lad t'a round or three or what? ❞