"Oh, there are plenty round these parts who partake in the game. The problem would be avoiding those that are a little more... stiff. Come by my tavern sometime. The Hobbled Gobbler over in the Bulge, we have penny wishers and the like in plenty. If you like it, maybe we could come to a more long term arrangement."
This got Franky's business mind rolling. Finding local entertainers, or "entertainers" in Yeva's case, hadn't been the easiest so far. He smiled broadly, "We sure do have food, made by yours truly. Though I'd like to find another cook or two sometime..." He shrugged, "New businesses find it hard to hire here, I think people hold their breath to see if the business survives long enough to be worth it."
Franky was eyeing the overturned saucer, wondering if the woman was about to read her own tea leaves. He knew of those who had partaken, but it wasn't as common of a concept back home. And when she and her mane of fiery curls disappeared, he could only snort a bit in jest. A woman without the stiff etiquette of the west siders in town was one he could certainly appreciate. "Your best bets for hardware are down at the bottom of Copper Cut." He pointed eastward down the road that led to the lower level of the Knob. Then he pointed westward up toward the Bulge, "Up there, a ways past my bar, you'll find The Knob's End Nursery. Crotchety old woman, but don't let that deter you, she's the best around."
Soon, the boy returned with the water, pouring the glasses, setting one for each of them. Franky looked up at him, "Thank you." And of course that sent the boy off scurrying. "My place is much more popular with um... the more open minded types, if you will. You won't find too many humans in there, and when they do show, typically they are silent supporters of our existences."
His eyes were still locked on the tea cup, wondering what the fates would say through it. "What all ways do you prefer to... partake? We had bone and organ readers in the military, met a woman once that did it through smoke dancing."
