Jim waited in his car, on the backseat, tapping his fingers onto his thigh. He was about to meet this guy, what was his name? Mmm...Michael, right... Mike, Mikey boy. He heard the boy was good in doing the dirty job and Jim had happened to search for a new blood now since the last outburst had costed him a few people.

She felt the collide and looked up to view the face immediately. “God, I swear I’m not stalking you,” Tayla spoke after running into the other - quite literally, after already passing him three times on the same day. “And sorry for walking into ya quite literally too. That was embarrassing.”

a long, low wolf-whistle came before the greeting; “Well would’ya look at the likes’a you... How’s the weather up there, pal?” And after a stiff swallow from his flask, Jonas was still staring-- neck craned, peering up up up at the stranger he’d stumbled upon on his way back from the bar.

“What d’ya do for a living, champ?” hopefully it wasn’t a night job. “You put that height ta’ use often? Wanna make a couple extra bucks...?” Personally, Jonas would prefer not to stand at his tip-toes on a rickety ol’ step stool to fix up the cross prop intended for the following evening, and this chap right here seemed to be the perfect size to assist. “Surely you ain’t got nothin’ better to do, it’s late as--” he had to check his watch with one eye shut: yes, it was late.