[Seclusion - now that sounds like a real kind of Hell. Charlie's lip crinkles dismissively at the thought. While this place hasn't been outright hostile, there hasn't been much peace. The avian lifeguards made sure of that, and he wants to think the chaos is a standard feature.

So, it's already better than wherever this guy is from.

But Charlie appreciates a pitch, so he listens intently. His arm slides along the bar, sleeve of his robe darkening as it soaks in the liquid spattered along it. Closer, so he can catch another glimpse of what looked like something personal.

When the question comes to him, Charlie looks up at his company. Perhaps a bit insolent, or maybe that's just how his eyes look.] I can find my own fun, if that's what you mean. I'm not runnin' up any ladders for the top seat.

It's better to sit on a bar stool and talk to old men. [Is this... flirting? Yeah a little.] What about you? You got a.. uh.. [He circles his finger in the air, thoughts catching up with mouth.]

You got motivation? Or are you aimless?