Seb attempts to keep a straight face as Jove shakes his paw, but can't help wincing as his bones grind together. His lip curls in a grimace exposing sharp fangs and a strained growl escapes his throat. He pulls back once Jove is done shaking, nursing his paw as blood flow returns to it with a pins-and-needles sensation. "Nice...ah...hardware you've got there." He chuckles. "But, yes, as my eager companions have said, our outfit is always looking for more qualified individuals. Perhaps an opportunity to practice those skills of yours on more than just drunken buffoons, and for pay, or at least resources. It can't be cheap to maintain those pistons of yours."
He spreads his arms wide. "I'll leave the decision up to you. We'll probably be leaving tomorrow morning to take care of those raiders down south. Feel free to come by the church at the edge of town and mention my name at the gate. They should let you in without too much hassle."
Seb turns to Mrs. Margret. "Yeah, we'll head down south and clean those guys up tomorrow while they mull over whatever intel we're supposed to bring back. Need a resupply and some rest as well since it's pretty late now. Speaking of intel, what do you have for us?"
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