RP:At The Office

From HollowWiki

Part of the The Dust Up In Cenril Arc


Summary: Hudson bribes a guy to get Emelyan into the exotic dance club known as THE OFFICE for a meeting with Eleanor and her connect. They agree on distribution terms for Firefly Steve. Elisilith lurks in the background, ever irritating to Emelyan. Hudson orders a hamburger, and succumbs to food poisoning.


"THE OFFICE", Cenril

The meeting date set with Eleanor and her connect, all that's left is for Hudson to successfully get Emelyan inside THE OFFICE, notorious exotic dancing establishment (and certainly not an actual office). The bouncer on duty knows Hudson - it happens - and there's a bit of an awkward lull in the initial greetings when the big guy realizes that Huds has in his company a small human of seemingly approximately 7 years of age.

Cue the age-old pull aside, lowered tone. "Mate, what's the idea, I can't let a small child in."

"I can vouch for him, he's of age, just suffered some sort of growth failure," says Huds, to an incredulous look from the bouncer.

"Are you kidding me."

"Swear it on my mum's life."

Further attempts at verbal persuasion wilting, Huds slips the guys some g's, and he and Emelyan are shooed into a side door. "Let's maybe not sit in the middle of it all," says Huds, for a couple of reasons, ushering Emelyan to a side alcove. He says hi to a few of the girls on the floor, calling them by name. "What," he says reflexively, perhaps anticipating silent judgment from his partner. As they get comfortable and await the arrival of Eleanor and her connect, Huds orders himself a hamburger. Yeah, he's that guy.


Emelyan finds few surprises, here. Hudson had been an attractive candidate as a partner for this very reason... his seemingly endless font of charisma. Getting a seven year old into a nightclub was a breeze for him, and he knew many of the working ladies here. They weren't even searched for weapons, a good thing, as Emelyan was always armed to the teeth, holding a vast arsenal within the folds of his all too heavy trenchcoat. Bright orange eyes light a midsummer sunset were set in a dusky toned face, under an unruly mop of brown hair. They seemed to sweep back and forth over everyone and everything, piercing defenses and striking viciously to mine every sliver of golden detail they could from the place. His lingered not on unclad bodies and sensual movements, but on purses, on faces, on shadows and exchanges. His ears took in not music but conversations from quiet corners and the thick of the den. He was as alert as a soldier on the battlefield, and for all his childish appearance, looked like it as well. His perpetual scowl and hard features belied his true age. He ordered nothing, and would drink strong spirits from his own pocketed flask. "Eleanor, was it?" He was looking for her among the crowd, whilst gathering other tidbits of information, and watching for threats.


Eleanor had been at the Office for an hour already, alternating between pretending to pay the entertainment for a casual distraction, and stealing the coins back through subterfuge and flirting. When Hudson arrived with his youthful companion, her brows rose, her curiosity intrigued; as someone who was well accustomed to being judged like a book with a flashy cover, she was slow to make any judgments regarding the shorter of the two men. Pursing full lips together, she rose from her booth, rolled her shoulders back, and for a moment merely observed the duo as they made their way to a partially-veiled alcove. Once standing, she moved fluidly through the tables, chairs, and dancing podiums, hips swaying with the music, her feet light as feathers; appearing as innocuous as ever, the spell blade brushed her tattooed curves against a few patrons as she made her way toward Hudson and Emelyan, and she found herself to be a few coins richer, the victims none the wiser as they each, in turn, took an eyeful of the bold woman. Celadon eyes were hard to meet, however, as she turned away from their attempts at keeping her attention, her lips forming a ghost of a smirk. At last, she arrived at Huds’ table, and, resting hands on hips, she looked down at him and his companion. Her gaze was quick, scrutinous, as she stood at the edge of the table. Dressed in her usual get-up of rich cerulean fabric that covered her top half, left the stomach exposed to reveal strong muscles and colorful, self-inscribed tattoos, and a soft paneled skirt, she may as well look like one of the dancers behind her, save for the fact that she was also well-armed: a runed, steel chakram dangled from her left hip, a crystal-tipped wand was holstered at her right, and there were probably other weapons hidden on her person (though where is anyone’s guess). “Weel,” she began, looking down her nose towards Huds, lips twitching with a smug smile, “it is abit damn time ye kids showed up.”


Only Emelyan would have a trench coat sized for a 7 year old, thinks Huds, as his gaze swings from his partner to take a turn around the room. "Eleanor, yeah, blond, total babe," he says, waving away a girl who tries to approach him for a dance. She catches sight of Emelyan on her strut away, and pauses to pivot and gaze at Hudson, hands perched on her hips, eyebrow cocked like a revolver.

"You bring your kid in here?" she demands of him.

"Do I look like I have a kid?" asks Huds, gesturing at his person. He's in the closest thing that Hollow has to a tracksuit. It's at this point that Eleanor makes her appearance.

The girl is quick to eye Eleanor like she's a delicious pastry. Women in these sorts of clubs, always a hit. "Hi," she purrs to Eleanor. "Is she with you?" she asks Hudson and Emelyan, only to get waved away by the former.

"Please. We're not buying a dance right now." Sour-faced, the dancer cuts past the other woman with an indignant huff. Scratching at his hair, which is in need of a cut anyway, Hudson disengages himself from that awkward interaction and flashes Eleanor a hangdog smile. "Eleanor," he greets her, gesturing between her and Emelyan. "This is my partner. I'll let him introduce himself." He peers around her silhouette and sees nothing but clients and dancers, or so it seems to him. "You bring your connect, or... they're on their way?"


Emelyan finally catches an eyeful of Eleanor, and finds himself quite impressed. This character held herself well, and seemed well versed in martial arts, both magical and mundane. This was a business he didn't too much time for bloodying his hands in, meaning he was willing to split a lot more of the wealth to those willing to get their hands dirtier than he, and this underground connector seemed like the type that would bite at such a hearty offering. Emelyan would stay where he sat, as Hudson introduced himself, and left him to do his own introductions. "Emelyan. Hudson seems to put a great deal of trust in you, miss Eleanor. Such a figure you strike, as imposing as it is alluring. I wonder if you could pad the streets of Cenril as thoroughly as you've endeared our Hudson to your person." Choice bit of wording, there. In simple terms, he wanted to know if she could control the streets, given the resources... take a fight to the local gangs and their territories, rather than simply connect them to another to see that their product was dolled out where it could take. He hoped he saw muscle, here. Muscle that could insulate him from the violence inherent in a larger business model.


Eleanor paid the other woman very little attention, although she did smirk as she stormed off in a huff. Arcing a brow, the spellblade turned her celadon-hued gaze back toward Hudson, then to Emelyan. “They're haur,” the rogue replied vaguely, fixing the apparent child a curious, scrutinizing stare. “Thes is yer partner?” She said to Hudson, but kept her gaze trained on the other. “Yoong, but ... Ah woods wager, nae yoong.” Her full lips parted in a broad, wolfish grin. To Emelyan, she said, “Is yer mask by choice, ur consequence?” As she considered what he said to her about her ability to distribute the product, she clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and leaned forward, hands pressing against the table. “Haur is hoo thes is gonnae wark. Ah tak' yer product tae mah business associate,” who as of yet had not revealed themselves, “we distribute fur a fair cut ay th' profits.” Her smirk grew, and she slid her gaze toward Hudson, like a cat sizing up a delicious canary. “Twintie percent fur me, seein' as aam th' a body riskin' mah skin oan th' streets.” To address Emelyan’s undertone of concern, she slid her gaze back across the table toward him. “Ye keep yer part ay th' deal, an' Ah will tak' caur ay mine. Nae a body is gonnae bortha us unless they hae a death wish.” From across the room, her connection observed; quiet, drawing no attention to herself, an innocent-enough looking woman in rags with red-rimmed eyes. She took a drag of something from a pipe, and Eleanor suddenly looked over her left shoulder across the room at her. The two exchanged a nod, and as the blonde turned back to face Hudson and Emelyan again, she nodded to each in turn, her gaze returning to the former, whom she addressed. “Yer product is guid, Huds. Th' nam is a wee -- weel, It'll dae fur noo. Sae lang as th' quality remains, we ur canty.”


Hudson nods in response to Eleanor's query - yep, that's his partner - though he runs his hands under his collar as Emelyan waxes a little too poetic at her, who seemingly takes it all in like a cat in the creamer. Damn the woman. Insert further cat related metaphors and similar. Fortunately the conversation has segued back into business, and it's at this moment that his hamburger arrives. Likely to inspire Looks capital L from the others - who orders a burger at a joint like this - Huds for his part simply shrugs and takes a bite. His gaze slides to his partner as Eleanor voices the price. They'd known it would cost them, but 20% to not have to dirty their hands seems reasonable in the moment. "Emelyan?" he asks the other guy, expecting a confirmation. Idly scanning the room, he takes another bite out of his burger, which tastes a little dubious for his liking but That's What He Gets. Too late to turn back now. He's deep into food poisoning, if that's what this is. As he chews, his mouth twists into a wry smirk at the compliment paid to the product. "Firefly Steve," he swallows and tells Emelyan, to explain her quip about the name. "Of course it's good," he says to Eleanor. There are a few folks here who look ragged enough to be Eleanor's connect, he thinks, but maybe that's wrong and he should be looking for someone in a suit. There's no telling. An impressive showing of the female anatomy pulls his attention toward a gleaming pole and the figure perched thereabouts, engaged in a slow-motion spiral upside-down. Elisilith AKA/DBA Crystal. "Four o'clock," he mutters to his partner, in an apparent non sequitur. "Told you she worked here," quietly, his gaze leaping back to Eleanor. "Some colleague of Emelyan's who for reasons unknown moonlights here." His gaze flicks between the two of them. He clears his throat. "So -- market share wise, we were hoping to dominate that."


Emelyan finds the asking price of twenty percent more than reasonable. As a no questions asked, take the product and go scenario like this was, it was unbelievably good fortune. Depending on the product's success, any other organization might try to take control, of the producers or the production, or demand nearly all of it... with the ever present threat of underground competition, dirty and volatile as it was. Emelyan had no large organization of his own, just a small working order. For now. It would all hinge on the success of the product... rates, allies and enemies, and possibly, whether he wanted it or not, Emelyan's own rise through this organization. He tended to take care of business, as a workaholic, ambitious as he was when it came to wealth. Wealth could solve many problems, and would serve to keep Yukiko comfortable. Eleanor earned a smile at her question about his age, though it did not quite reach his eyes. Sensitive topic, perhaps? "Your price is agreeable. Adjustments will be made in the future, hinging on the success of Firefly Steve, I'm sure." What a godawful name. It soured his tongue. Emelyan's eyes lit on Elisilith, who was indeed working here. That had him heaving a sigh, too heavy to hold in. "She's seen me here, now. And if she hasn't, she'll damn well hear about it." He shook his head. "I'll be depending on you to help tackle that problem when it arises, Hudson."


Eleanor continued to lean against the table, hands splayed out on its surface. When Hudson spoke of the other woman, she twisted around to scan the pole queen, blonde brows both rising, nudging the iron diadem that rested low above her eyes. “Ah bit she'd be a guid connect tae sellin' haur,” the spell blade remarked off-handedly, her smirk ever-present. Turning her attention back to her would-be partners-in-crime, her smirk grew once more. “ ‘at shoods nae be a problem. Th' Oracle--” For a half-beat, she twitched, and glanced over her shoulder at the bedraggled woman across the room. Returning her stare to Hudson, she went on to say, “We will make ye rich, bonnie loon, dornt ye fash yerse.” Eleanor was not concerned about any potential competition; the stakes were very high for her, and she was determinedly focused at making this deal successful. At last, she straightened to all five-feet-five of her, and crossed her muscled, tattooed arms over her chest. “Guid, 'en it is settled. Tois days frae noo, ye will use th' staine--” the runed sending stone she’d given Hudson before for their secret rendezvouses, “efter th' sin sets, an' ye can make th' delivery 'en.”


Hudson cants his head to Emelyan in a wordless reply on the subject of Elisilith. He'd leave it there but Eleanor's now opining on drawing the woman into the mix. "We don't trust her," says Hudson, his gaze following Eleanor's when her attention passes across the room. Could it be this girl in tatters is Eleanor's gateway into the criminal underground? If so, looks are deceiving. With this string of slang, he is pretty sure that Eleanor's hitting on him, and he seizes the moment to finish his burger and assume the usual look of someone who doesn't understand her heavy accent. Man, there was something not altogether right about that burger... Anyway. He wipes his hands on his pants and withdraws the stone from his pocket to show Emelyan. "Eleanor has skills," he says, as if that explained the whole of it. "Sounds good to me. We have a whole stash ready to move. We can make more probably as fast as you can move it."


Emelyan looked at the stone, when Hudson presented it. Runes. She'd be quite welcome to study at the Mages Tower in Xalious. Emelyan was content with the arrangements, as it seemed all parties involved were. "We'll have several kilos prepared for you. Let us see just how magical you and your friends are, ma'dam." He'd rise then, moving to take his leave. His eyes did not linger on skimpy girly bits, Eleanor's or those of the many other pieces of eye candy about, though Elisilith did stop him on his way out. The dark haired vixen all but purred to him, sidling up to him with a flourish of her hips, "Professor." It was a threat, a promise, and a dazzlingly flirtatious comment, all at once. Emelyan's only response was a growled, "Harlot." They locked eyes for a brief moment, in which an entire war seemed to pass betwixt the pair. Whatever side won would be for them and them alone to know, as they parted ways, both with stormy expressions. It seemed their feud had only just begun.


Eleanor was surprised when Hudson mentioned not trusting the stripper, her brows rising, lips twitching in a smirk. “Ooh-oh, she main be terrible, 'en, if ye troost me but nae 'er,” the spell blade quipped, full lips spreading into a grin. She lifted her chin, canting her head, her long dreads and braids falling past her tattooed, bronze shoulder. Leveling an amused celadon-hued stare at Hudson even as she turned, leaning partly against the table, and added, “Guid. Ah cannae bide.” Her gaze moved away from his only as Emelyan drew to a stand, and was accosted by Elisilith. The woman’s grin grew even wider as she stepped away from the table, bumping her shoulder into Hudson as she passed. “Until next time, bonnie loon.” With that, the woman sashayed gracefully back across the club, her contact having disappeared while she was otherwise engaged. She took the bouncer’s hand on her way out, possibly to pass something onto him via palm, before departing.


Hudson trails after Emelyan, though keeps some distance, walking with Eleanor off to the side, so as to not create the false impression that he and Eleanor are Emelyan's parents escorting the younger-looking man in some... weird family outing. He offers Elisilith a winsome grin and a wave as he passes her. Doesn't engage her in conversation; she and Emelyan are busy having some sort of staring match. That definitely isn't dying here. Eleanor bumps his shoulder, seemingly wise to it as well, and Huds shoots her a withering look. "See you at the drop," he says. As the three part ways and Huds makes his way home, he begins to feel the creeping inevitability of food poisoning. Never again, the hamburger in the strip club. Never again.