The Mustache and The Beard

Amy made an awkward expression, pulling down her lips and making little rolls under his chin at the description of man-eating plants.

"Yeesh. That's uh, well, I'll stay away from jungles then, I guess."

"That doesn't even count the bugs, diseases, man-eating reptiles, massive monkey-eating birds that consider humans monkeys, the big cats, or the creatures that hardly even get a classification. There's more Class A monsters in the jungle than pretty much anywhere else off the top of my head. Though, proportionally, you still get relatively few Class A's to Class B's to Class C's but there's a shitload of monsters. I made the mistake of going there once. Made double the pay and lost an eye for the trouble."

Amy's eyes only grew wider and her chin sunk deeper into her neck. "UHhhhhhhH well, now I'm terrified of jungles, thanks," she said, averting her eyes down to the table.

"Sounds like you don't uh, really do work there anymore?"

"Oh, I have, every once and a while. Sometimes I'll get a special job to hunt down a very specific monster. So, instead of 'clear out x area of y monster' it's more like 'there's a monster that's x y z, hunt it down and kill it.' Often those are dispersed jungle monsters that wind up back where they started. The biggest problem with hunting in jungles is there's never just one monster - you think you're fighting one and then you get stuck to a plant or a bird comes out of the sky or the thing you're fighting suddenly turns tail and runs because something bigger and badder showed up. But I don't go there looking for work like I used to. Took losing an eye to back off a bit. I might be stupid 'n reckless but I ain't looking to get maimed or killed. Thought about going back, good work, but...eh. Pays well 'nough out here."

Amy just nodded, eyes still wide as she looked up at Tasha. She wiped off an imaginary drop of sweat from her forehead and sighed.

"Phew, well, uh, that's good for you! Not dying is nice."

"It's relative," she shrugged, patting Wolfsbane under the table.

Amy wasn't going to ask what Tasha meant by that. She laughed weakly before clearing her throat and turning to James.

"So, uh! James! Your uh... beard! Yeah! Have you ever gone for like, a stache?"

James slowly looked up at her, his eyebrows raising.

"A... stache," he responded slowly, with some delay.

Amy nodded with a small grin. "Mm-hm! Mustache. Mustachio."

James blinked. "I've worn my hair many ways," he said simply. "Ari knew me first with a mustache."

"Yeah, that's where I got the idea for a mustache!" Ari said with a grin.

"Many ways, huh?" Tasha raised an eyebrow. "What's the one you hated most?"

"Interesting you ask about the one I hated and not the ones I liked," James said with a straight tone, turning to look at Tasha beside him with both eyebrows raised and an unimpressed look in his eyes. "So far I haven't done anything I've absolutely despised, but I got the most crap for the mustache. I do enjoy being clean-shaven, but it's a lot of upkeep, and my hair grows fast."

"Rephrase: what's the one you liked the least? Now I'm asking about what you like. See? I listen." She smiled overly-sweetly.

James mirrored the smile with one of his own: an overtly fake smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Oh! Thanks for asking!" he replied with wholly ingenuine enthusiasm. "I hated having a full beard down to my collar bone! Thanks!"

And with that, his smile faded in a second, and his face returned to its usual unimpressed expression.

She returned the grin and overenthusiasm. "Oh, wow, you're so welcome!" she beamed with comical exaggeration.

"Ha. Ha," James replied with a straight face, before turning and taking a sip of water. "Enjoy the mental image."

"I'm really not," she answered dryly. "If you look like...this now, I can't imagine the homeless beard."

James fluttered his eyes over to her. "Like I said. I didn't enjoy it either."