[Normally, Kubo would steer clear of a man who's clearly drunk off his ass. But he's been moving from piss-stinking alley to alley with his performance tricks, and not a single person has stopped. Without his side-show paper tricks, he doesn't know how he'll earn his way. Sure, he could turn to straight-out piracy, jump on the bandwagon, but he is. Not good at the whole "be threatening" thing.
He's tired, and if he's being honest with himself, he won't survive in this bustling place if he doesn't speed up the process. Shorten the learning curve.
So, sighing, Kubo adjusts the instrument slung on his back and approaches the most knowing person he's spotted since arriving. The alcohol-to-knowledge ratio does seem pretty equal around here.]
Um, excuse me. . . . Sir? [He sounds unsure about that word.] Would you happen to know a good spot for performances?
no subject
He's tired, and if he's being honest with himself, he won't survive in this bustling place if he doesn't speed up the process. Shorten the learning curve.
So, sighing, Kubo adjusts the instrument slung on his back and approaches the most knowing person he's spotted since arriving. The alcohol-to-knowledge ratio does seem pretty equal around here.]
Um, excuse me. . . . Sir? [He sounds unsure about that word.] Would you happen to know a good spot for performances?