Bussines is Bussines I 'uppose.

[tequila]

Tequila isn't quite so acquainted with merchants, he's never even shopped before - always relying on others to find resources for them, using his blindness to make others immediately offer to help him with such 'miserable' needs. He's known merchants and all kinds of numskull traders to come around every so often but they're usually around to sell items such as accessories, food or other aesthetic wears. All things that Tequila found quite useless or unappealing. This time, however, the sightless boy notices the sweet smell of alcohol, seemingly possessed by the allure of the wafting scent that he begins to walk. He reminds himself of a fish, drawn to bait to be pulled out of water, splutter and die. Maybe, he thinks, he's just feeling paranoid...or excited even. He's never once felt any interest in trading, never once paid much attention to the merchants who came by. Unless they themselves were naive and planned to stay and watch their shows, Tequila was increasingly dispassionate about their affairs and business. They were selfish people to him, riding on the wild (and well deserved if he is honest) rumours of The Berserkers and assuming them to be crazy or deprived enough to take just about anything.

He sighs, running his fingers through his hair as he approaches the man waiting about. He senses a...displeasure upon his face, though unable to make out the exact details of the wrinkles which lined the man's skin through his echolocation. He supposes he is just assuming by now that the man is only here for business in the same way Tequila was only here for a bottle of wine. "A handsome face approaches our borders," the boy smiles in greeting with a nonchalant wave of his hand, keeping superior detachment to the stranger. He is usually friendly, but only God knew what truly lurked in the ghostly boy's mind: a disgustingly critical judgement of everyone and everything. "Jean-Jacques. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I'm mainly known as Tequila around these parts so I'd prefer we kept at that basis." If his eyes hadn't been covered by his bandages and overgrown fringe, Matt might have caught the cheeky squint of his eyes glistening towards him in an almost malicious manner. "Is that wine I smell?"