Ratz's corner of his mouth twitches into what might pass for a smile, the dim light catching on his metal teeth. He gives Zeb a knowing look, suggesting a shared understanding of the momentary relief found at the bottom of a glass. "That's the spirit, Herr Zeb," Ratz comments, the bar's red lights casting a murky glow over his figure as he resumes his duties, cleaning another glass with his jerky prosthetic arm.

taken in #chatsubo - Ratz