RP:A Serious Wish

Wishing Well

Meri :: What Meri should be doing and what she is doing do not line up today. One might assume that someone who claims the title of 'business owner' might actually have an invested interest in running that business? Yet she was not. The werewolf was passing up all weekend sales opportunities so that she could...drink. Yup. That's right. She's day drinking. Which probably means she was just at the Whaler, she had to procure a bottle of her favorite poison (whiskey) from somewhere. Today her feet where taking her down to the docks to torment the poor workers there, instead she was hoping to find a bit of quiet at the wishing well. The blonde seats herself on the edge of the well and fixes her gaze on the glimmering water, a frown soon pulling at the corners of her lips. Most throw coins into the well when they make their wishes, but not Meri. The blonde's contribution to the well is going to be a ring, and it's not a cheap one either despite the lack of diamonds or other fancy stones. If someone is bold enough to fish it out of the water, they'll make quite a pretty penny on the resale of this ring. Maybe she should be the one pawning it off, but that thought does not occur to her for some reason. Meri promptly takes to nursing from her bottle of whiskey after disposing of this memory.

Clement can't always avoid being out during the day. All those normal, important people can't be bothered to conduct their business at night. His appointment at the courthouse was quick, unproductive, and managed to shoot an inconvenient hole in his schedule. Good to be done with it. Hands in pockets, he makes his way back through the city. There's not much shade during midday, but there's awnings, alleys, and trees to offer some respite at least. Those sycamores look inviting. Sure, let's cut through the park with the well. Clement expects it to be a pleasant shortcut, but a surprise is waiting for him. It's her again. Turning around would be too conspicuous now. Clement hopes he can pass by unnoticed, but then something happens that puts a hitch in his step. The glint of Meri's ring catches his eye. Clement can't help but gawk as he watches her toss the ring (like the madwoman she must be) down the well. He blinks. Oh no. He was staring. Did she see? She had to have seen. Add "awkward encounter in the park" to your list of errands, Clem.

Meri might have been oblivious. Except. Being a lycan usually means that she's got a keen awareness of when someone is approaching. She just...didn't realize it until -after- she threw that ring in the well. She would have definitely rethought her timing if she was aware there was an audience. Don't worry, Clement. Meri's not going to break down into a drunken fit of tears, that would mean she would be showing some amount of vulnerability and that's not allowed to happen in public. She is aware that Clement is staring though, for her blue eyes shift toward the vampire and she ends up staring right back with a lifted brow. She's going to mask this moment by being obnoxious, as it is what she does best. "Ah. If it isn't Mr. Entertainment." Maybe she did not overhear the deckhand using part of his name, but more than likely she was just being a brat. Her bottle of whiskey is set between her knees, with one hand remaining loose around the neck of the bottle. The other goes digging through a bag that sits at her feet for...? That remains to be seen. "What are the chances. If I didn't know any better, I would accuse you of following me. But. I think you're just very unlucky. Sorry." Except there was nothing forcing Clement to stay in the area, Meri sure wasn't going to.

Clement guards his tone and expression. Musn't be rude to the lady. "Sorry about the other night, ma'am. Hope you took no offense." Truth be told, he's not sure how much she cares about her reputation, but even day drinkers have their pride. "I'll take whatever luck I can get." If Clement's developed one skill in all his years, it's how to make do with his circumstances. He clears his throat and nods at the well. "You must be making a, ah," walking over, he peers down, wondering if he can catch sight of the glimmering trinket, "pretty serious wish right now." He shades his eyes. There it is alright, a little bright dot beneath the ripples and the shadows.

Meri locates her tarnished cigarette tin after a moment of fussing with her bag along with the means to light one of them. This was a two handed job though, so her whiskey is left to balance between her knees until she manages to put a flame to the end of her cigarette. She may not seem open to sharing her whiskey, but she does offer the tin of cigarettes out to Clement should he want one. Meri wrinkles her nose up for a moment while debating just how much she feels like hassling Clement today. The response he gets this go round is close to civil. Well. Close for Meri. "C'mon. Save the manners for an actual lady. That's not me. Just call me Meri." They went through this. Or tried to. Meri gestures to the ring. "You're really going to go opening that jar of worms? Wishes are for fools. I'm just here to make someone's day. You know that thing isn't going to be in there come tomorrow." Meri had no plans of checking though. "I think though. That if you want a story, I could at least get a name...But I think you owe me that much regardless." She's pretty sure it's not -just- Clem.

Clement isn't the type to pry, and he takes Meri's "make someone's day" excuse at face value. And she's not wrong. Clem's not about to climb down there and get it himself, but someone is going to, guaranteed. He accepts the cigarette and holds it unlit between his knuckles. "Only if you want to tell it. Folks have a right to their own affairs." Presuming he's offered a light, Clem takes a puff and squints against the harsh light. "Clement, ma'am." Sure, she doesn't want to be treated like a lady, but deep habits don't drop easily. "Name's Clement, good to meet you. Well," his face twists, "good to meet you more properly." Now look at this, Clem, you were all worked up for nothing. It's not such a bad run-in after all. In fact, he feels bold enough to try his luck a little. "So you really own that gallery by the docks, or was that just the whiskey talking?"

Meri definitely offers Clement the means to light his cigarette but that is a task he'll have to complete on his own. Even Meri may have limitations to how forward she can be, especially considering she was just dumping a ring in the well. There are very....limited reasons chicks go doing that. Meri offers up no additional information on that ring, Clement was far too new to her for that deep of a story. "Oh. You think that was the whiskey talking? Well. Jokes on you, even if you caught me sober I'm not sure you'd be much more pleased with the results." A grin twitches at her red lips momentarily and then it's gone, mostly because that cigarette is not going to smoke itself. Meri takes a moment to take a drag and on the exhale, she motions for Clement to make himself comfortable on the ledge of the well. There was plenty of room. "Yup. I really own that gallery. But I am guessing you're one of the many that just walk by?" Or else he'd probably know. "Before Cenril, I thought it was a good idea to have my business in Larket. Until they started burning witches. And before that? I was just a lowly tattoo artist out of Rynvale." Lowly is debatable, at least if you ask any of her former clients. "I'd ask what you do but..." She's already figured out one job. "Have you been down at the docks for long?"

Clement returns the light and accepts the offered seat. So that's really her building, huh? He figured she wasn't telling tales. Clem would like to imagine that he has a good ear for fibbers. "Truth be told, I didn't notice until you pointed it out. I've been in Cenril for a while now, and I'm still finding new face and new places. It's not the sort of town where you can get to know everybody," he ashes at his feet, "and there's good and there's bad about that, I reckon. Yeah, I've heard some of the fuss about Larket..." Clem trails off, then he clears his throat and steers back to safe, pleasant topics. "Sure, I've been at the docks off and on. I'll take about anything that pays coin-in-hand. You know, odd jobs." By his simple, worn clothes, it's easy to believe that he lives getting paid day to day. "Don't know much about art, but I figure everyone needs things moved around, needs a doorman, needs someone to sweep every now and again." The vampire glances over to gauge Meri's interest. A man of his station in life doesn't really submit a resume, after all.

Meri could be a liar, at times, depending on the person and the subject at hand. That night she was not. Meri takes no offense to the fact that her business has gone unnoticed, though she can't help but wonder how many others have also passed by without giving the building much of a thought. Did it matter? It's not like Meri was actually there right now. Which is why Clement's hedging around the sort of jobs he might be able to do around the gallery does seem to peek her interest. Not that he'd be able to tell by the expression on her face, Meri's gotten good at that poker face. Their conversation was harmless, but much like that blasted ma'am, some habits die hard. Or are beyond breaking, in this case. "Eh, you know. Actually. If you're hitting me up for a job? Sure. Why not. The thing is though...? Sweeping, sure. Moving things around, sure. But what I really need? Is someone can mind the place when I'm..." She doesn't finish that sentence with words, instead she just makes gestures to her vices: the drinking, the smoking. "You don't need to be an art aficionado to not let a piece walk out my doors below the sale price. You don't got to commit now. You can swing by the place some time to see what you think."

Clement nods along, takes a drag, sure sure. Sweepers and loaders are easy to find, sure. What she really needs is, "watchman stuff, no problem." By his tone, it's clear Clement has already agreed to whatever it is she's asking him to do. Sure, the details are vague. "Whenever's convenient for you, ma'am, I'll stop right in." He'll have no trouble reading the situation and filling in the blanks once he's on site. Right? Don't have to commit now my foot. Let an opportunity like this get cold, and it will slip right past you. "Whenever's convenient for you."

Meri :: It's true, one never knows when a job might get passed off to another. Especially now that Meri's mind is put to it. And now that Clement has reminded her that she should probably be some amount of a responsible adult, the blonde abandons her seat on the well and picks that bag up off the ground. "I swear though, if you call me ma'am even one time while on the job, you're fired." That was a lie, Meri was smirking. As if she could go a prolonged period of time without firing off some mouthy comment. The lycan gives Clement a date and a time. Clement will know exactly when...! But her writer is keeping that detail vague on purpose. "I suppose I should be getting back, maybe actually consider unlocking the gallery doors." Just like Clement did not need to be an aficionado, Meri also did not need to be sober. She owned the place, she made the rules. "I'll be seeing you, by the sounds of it." Meri pauses and for a moment it looks like she's going to add one more detail about the job but instead she just salutes Clement and turns to leave.

Clement stands, extinguishes his cigarette, and nods. "Yes, M-eri. You'll see me there." Well, there's one gig on the ol' roster, Clement. The employer has her quirks, but don't we all? Clement tries not to listen to his gut, but this time he can't help but form a hunch: this is going to be a mutually beneficial arrangement. And to think, this time they get to part ways on cordial terms.