Sitting down across from his partner, Alason took a moment to consider her question. What did he want to talk about? Of course, what he really wanted to know was about her history; she was essentially a living encyclopedia of the last millennia-and-a-quarter's social supernatural history. Of course, it'd be a touch awkward to just up and ask, 'Hey, can I read your palm and analyze everything you know?' or, 'Tell me everything you know'. Perhaps he should simply start with the standard, insipid small talk that was expected of him. Come to think of it, there was a question that had actually been bothering him.

"Why the hell are you a waitress? You can grow your own food, you don't seem to care much for people, so why waste hours of your life to come in, serve people, and all for a currency that barely serves you any purpose?"

The more he thought about it, the more perplexed Alason was by this. Perhaps he was simply missing something - it wouldn't be the first time - but he couldn't make sense of the whole affair. Of course, the whole situation was a bit nonsensical, so a response along the lines of 'I don't know,' would be little surprise.