“Shock, darlin’. What have I told you about living off of that processed trash?” The familiar, unsettlingly kind voice of Oz reaches the other’s ears as they spin around, the former strolling over to her with his usual bravado demeanour. Although he wore suits when hosting at the casino, Oz preferred more casual clothing when off the clock- usually consisting of leather jackets and worn jeans. His lips form a smile, a rare genuine one saved for one of the few individuals he cared about. The relationship between Oz and his 3 adopted ‘children’ was a curious one, very few in the town of Redwood could quite determine the nature of it. Hell, even Lock, Shock and Barrel likely questioned it at times. But Oz did indeed hold an affection for them- he just had an odd way of showing it. One wouldn’t expect a ‘caring father’ to throw those he cared for into danger, time and time again.
He stops beside her, an arm sliding around her shoulders to give a compassionate squeeze. Anyone to know the casino owner was aware he had always been a very physical person. Personal space was not a phrase within his vocabulary. “Can you not afford a proper meal? Whatever happened to all that money from that last job I gave you three, hm? I thought I was being overly generous- don’t tell me you blew it all on something pointless.”
Of course, her boss had to find her fighting with the machine. Like this couldn’t get anymore embarrassing. Shock tried not to roll her eyes at his scolding and tried not to pout. Which she was honestly failing to do. She’d heard him scold her on her eating habits countless times before. Her diet was far from healthy but it was cheap which meant more money in case of emergencies. While she hated to be scolded like a child, which perhaps her reaction was reminiscent of one, she was a little happy to see the only father figure she held in her life. If it was anyone else she’d have told them exactly where they could stick their “fake” concern. But she didn’t talk back to Oz or at least she hadn’t done so in years. Not to mention some part of her wanted to believe his concern over her health was genuine. After all he’d let her along with her brothers stay with him for almost thirteen years now and hadn’t left them yet. He was a rare consistency to their lives which for her translated that he must have have cared for them. Her pout faltered turning to a smile when he threw his arm around her. She was used to his lack of personal space. At his question she snickered
“Oh yeah, totally. You know me always blowing through my money.” Her voice was laced with sarcasm and she makes a smoking gesture. The truth was she was saving the money he’d given her, she’d been saving her money like that for years. Always squirreled away in a box hidden in her old tree house. Always being saved for emergencies just like this one. The money he’d given her for the job in question was currently being used for the room she’d gotten for her brothers and her. She wasn’t sure how long they would be staying at the hotel. So she wanted to make sure she had enough money to keep them from getting kicked out to the cold. At least until the electricity was back on in town. Which meant no ‘extra’ spending.
“I don’t see the need to waste my money at some bougie restaurant that puts more emphasis on atmosphere then the actual food. When I can spend way less money on food right here. That is if I can get this machine to fucking work.” With that she gives a sharp kick to the vending machine the metal of her steel toed boot clanging against the metal bottom of the machine.
