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Chief taps the weirdly-shaped paper items sideways on the table.
"Do you have the menu with... other kinds of currency?" He asks. "Or you only accept diamonds?" That would not ruin the whole operation, but it would make it harder.
"We have everything." He gets a proud grin. "Everything you can imagine. Up to lives, but specifically to you I don't recommend that one."
"Yeah. No." He nods quickly. "It's in, uh." He bites his lip. "Dollars? How many dollars for... say, one plate of grilled shrimp?"
"Well, let me count it up." Clown's fingers find their way up to his chin and he drums them on it slowly, like he's really calculating but with every second Chief feels more and more like he's not, of course he isn't. He's just mocking him at this point.
Chief huffs.
"A dollar, where'd you even find the currency?" Clown's look is genuinely confused.
It's all tricks, Chief reminds himself, and he needs to avoid falling for Clown's tricks as much as he can. Last time he did, they started dating! Who knows what can happen next? Losing all of his hearts to those charming... dark? Eyes, or what, his base coordinates, all his loot, his and Branzy's hand? In marriage? Well, he doesn't think any of them would mind that last bit, like ever, but the power. The power is too strong.
And he hasn't yet figured out Clown's eyes, alright, it's especially hard since they change color sometimes. Although it is to the maybe easier to pinpoint cyan and... ah, he's doing it again. Orange? Yellow? Nah, those aren't colors complex enough to describe it. The right one is soul fire, and the left one is like gold melting in lava. Maybe that's closer. Yeah, definitely so.
Clown snaps two fingers in front of his face.
Damn, he couldn't even get to his usual eye color.
"Chief." Clown taps two fingers on Chief's forehead when the first thing alone doesn't help. "I found the converting tables. It's ten dollars a diamond."
"Coal?" He blurts out.
"What?" Clown blinks, then buries his nose back in the papers. "Dollars... No, that doesn't make sense. You want to exchange coal instead?"
"No, no. I don't." Chief shakes his head vigorously. "I've been thinking... about a thing. Colors. Eye colors. Nevermind. Back to the task at hand, I'd like to prove a point, among other people to Mr Lavender... love of my life over there." He squints at Branzy, who's leaning back in a chair right next to them both. The laugh Chief gets from him almost makes him melt on the spot and definitely makes him lose some of the conviction, so he closes his eyes firmly and turns back.
With Clown's wide, curious look on him, that doesn't help much.
"A couple people around here asked me if I, my honest self, would like to purchase some hacked goods." He clasps his hands on the table. "Obviously, the first time they did I declined."
"The second time, they didn't ask." Branzy snorts.
"They did. Strange thing, the... hm, original creator off the server asked to be paid in dollars. Not some clean coin value, obviously, diamonds wouldn't work, but dollars... That's just... That's odd. Seven dollars for the basics, for one person."
"Ooh, but what was it?" Clown almost leans over the counter at him. "Did Ash drag in contraband goodies? Can you show?"
"I don't have it on me!" Chief gestures widely, then puts his hands down on the counter and continues chilly. "Some chat improvements. Fake messages, whispering to multiple people, I don't know. I'm trying to prove a point where I can spend the money for it on better, more worthy things. So I've come here."
"Oh." Clown purses his lips. "Right. But food? Not armor, no weapons? I'd at least settle on a trident, if I were you. We need to get you one." He nods to himself.
"Of course it's not that. I want to take you out for it."
The corners of Clown's lips twitch. "You do know Reddoons has some hefty prices?"
"On a date." He glares at Clown, who does let out a chuckle at his expression. "A dinner date, if you will. A lunch date, if you decide to be picky about time. So what's it going to be?" He demonstrates the green papers that read ONE, specifically in a large font for some reason. As if realising on your own that one dollar does, in fact, equal one dollar, is something the unit's creators do not expect from others.
"Lunch, probably." Clown nods. "For the sake of clarity, Branzy, what'd you think?"
"No, no." Chief shakes his head. "What's..."
"Huh?" Branzy looks up from where he's been dozing off now, not even paying attention anymore. "Yeah, lunch, I guess lunch is good." He nods.
"Great. I was past that already and was talking about the prices instead, but sure. So how much for the... well, three plates of grilled shrimp? Always wanted to try that one." Chief smiles blissfully.
"Remember one thing, the prices are for the quality of the product. So that's two... six... Ah, it says if it's a decimal-based system to take one cent off for presentation. Fifty nine, plus ninety nine cents."
"Wait, how much?" Chief's mouth hangs open. He hopes the pointed teeth intimidate Clown, at least a little bit.
Doesn't seem so.
"The price has been set."
Chief takes a deep breath. "I'd like to talk to the manager about that."
Clown grins. "The manages says no."
Branzy can't stop giggling at the sight, choking on the laughs as he tries to stay quiet, but Chief finally turns at him anyway.
"No, no, please continue." Branzy wheezes, hiding his face in his hands. Well, mostly the grin showing his thoughts too well, specifically the complete lack of compassion he's currently got for his, although very much loved and appreciated, currently losing on every front boyfriend.
Chief's expression goes numb, and Branzy can hear the dramatic music in his head stop for a moment, zooming in on the glistening, and they are, he can see it, eyes, and him letting out word after word, apathetic and accusing at the same time. Betrayed. Completely betrayed.
Or something like that.
"I... I believe I know what I have to do, then." Chief's voice rings, and he stands up slowly from the bar stool. "I will be back. Soon."
He scrambles out.
"What's... dollars? Never heard of those." Branzy leans on the desk heavily to get a better look at the papers. Clown turns them at him.
"That's not even the rarest, there's credits, vanity tokens, there's... uh, yen, just a lot of things you can pay in. Here's furnaces." Clown points at a drawing. "I feel like I'm turning into a villager."
"Wow." Branzy says heavily.
Chief turns up almost ten minutes later, chin held sharply at a high angle, and marches over to the nearest table with a huge plate in hand.
It really doesn't have enough on it to warrant the size.
"Enjoy." He bows slightly at the two by the bar top.
Clown stands up slightly from the chair to take a better look and mutters to Branzy, deliberately just so loud Chief could hear. "Do we have a policy against bringing your own?" He gets two pretty similar stares for it, although Branzy's bordering on amused, but Chief is so going to ignore that, and then a small shake of Branzy's head. "Alright, alright. I just had a thought... I'm joking, please stop with the... that look, Chief." He chokes on a laugh.
Chief turns his head away smoothly and sits down into one of the chairs with his hands on his knees, posture perfectly straight.
Branzy lands down right next to him and pokes at a sandwich on the tray.
"See?" Chief is breathing heavily. "It's a very sufficient dinner. With drinks. And cheese, even."
Something clinks on the table in the corner of his vision, and he throws a sideways glance at Clown picking up the lonely juice bottle, opening it in one movement.
In a few seconds, he has three cocktail glasses right in his face, full of apple juice.
"Is that... Does that even work?" Branzy slides one away and takes a sip. "This feels like it's breaking at least a few laws of... whatever good bar laws are."
Clown shrugs. "Our stand, our rules. And we can't be worse than our rivals that don't provide the poorer customers with takeout glasses."
Chief breathes in even louder. "These... are good glasses." He admits.
"Don't worry." Clown waves at him, only half comprehensible because of chewing on his lone double cheeseburger. "The cups are on the house. Unless you eat them."
Chief cackles and finally relaxes, leaning into the chair, getting to his own burger.
"Why were you so worked up about this?" Branzy taps him on the hand with the sandwich. "I saw you on the street and you were flying to Clown's. It's just hacks, like, Ash messes with them every chance he gets. Even I got to hold a broken item once, Rek showed it to me. Well, it didn't work, but..."
"What'd you think." Chief huffs. "It was a dare. Honest dare, worthy of a gentleman. I didn't say the right words at the right time, well, said I'd rather spend the money on you two. And Rek, yeah, Rekrap2, I knew he's had the experience with hacks on here, of course he'd do that." He rolls his eyes.
"He really doesn't." Branzy snorts.
"He said he'd want your reviews on a seven dollars worth dinner, and it rolled from there."
"Well." Clown chuckles. "Based on the fact the food wasn't ordered in mine and Branzy's perfect casino bar and at a rival McDonald's instead, I'd subtract... two from the experience. But..." He tilts his head. "Other than that, you did... hm."
"You did some things." Branzy grins at him. "You can tell Rek he'd do worse. Probably."
Chief groans.