Arc:

Finding Out':

Here the dwarf was, waiting, a FUCKING 'GAIN. Waiting for another man to show up so that he could get one of 'dem magical fruits. Blink wasn't really sure about the whole magical fruit thing himself, or ho. It was literally called "the devils fruit," maybe that just isn't something you fucked with. It had one of the most foreboding names ever, yet everyone seemed to want to get one for some reason, as if the name was non existent. He wasn't sure why he was here in the first place really, he was called up by a lad that he meant in his travels, and owed a favour or two, and wanted the fruit, so he didn't really question it. He stood on table in the corner of a bar, people seemed all to happy to talk, so it probably wouldn't be too hard to hear a bit of gossip, and be directed towards the fruit of their desires, foreshadowing as it may be.

Blink would slowly nurse his drink, and hope his compatriot would arrive soon, all the while listening in on conversations, maybe hearing a tidbit of information they could use. As a dwarf, he did get a few dirty looks, and doubled glances, some people not being able to believe what they were seeing, but he did not care all that much, he was just here to get fruit and drink, and it looked like he was gonna be out of drink soon.

After seeing this young thug Metro chuckle at his Shortson name, Blink almost burst into a tiny ball of rage and anger right then and there. You think that he would be used to it by now, after living in the human world for as long as he did, away form his dwarf home. But for some reason, the chuckles at his surname never seemed to escape his anger, however, seeing as how Metro had been an old acquaintance, and Blink didn't wish to pick a fight with Metro right away, in any plane of his existence, if not out of fear, but because of how he truly did not like expending his bountiful rage on people who he would have to put some actual effort into. Not to say that he was not prepared for such an eventuality where they would fight, like right now, if Metro was to take up actions against him, he would quickly take flight off of the table and burst through his heels before making an escape at his necessary but gifted speed, but that was unneeded most definitely. He would get back to Metro's question on whether or not they should interrogate the barkeep, retaining constant focus on him, trusting in Metro's ability to sense danger from the rest of the bar.

"Aye lad, soundth' good t'mee, ye can take poin', and lead the operashion from 'ere, an' 'ow we interrogate the barkeep." With that, Blink would slowly start to climb onto Metro's shoulder, so that the barkeep would see that two men were interrogating him, and also so that Blink could avoid stepping on the undesirable barroom floor.