RP:Eleanor, Meri, The Office
Part of the The Dust Up In Cenril Arc
Summary: Eleanor and Meri meet up at The Office to discuss a few things.
The Office is on the classier end of seedy cabaret/exotic dancing establishments. Which is to say that it boasts an actual chef, as in a person who studied to make food, and has enough bouncer presence on the floor to offer at least some low alcohol content beverages. Similar to other establishments of this nature, it's got your well lit stage, poles, a diverse cast of dancing women, and surrounding them a population of tables, velvet wing-back chairs, couches, and people who've got nothing better to do (most of them men).
Eleanor was going through a list of interviews with Martin the squirrelly part-time manager of The Office. There weren't any clients around, but the live band was still going, playing sets for the would-be dancers each in turn. El sat on the couch nearest the center-stage pole, one boot hooked around the edge of the low-sitting table in front of it, a nearly-empty glass of whiskey near her ankle. Her right leg was drawn up under her as she leafed through applications, making notes and generally being annoyed at Martin. The poor sod simply didn't understand talent, and instead kept bringing up "his hot girlfriend who can totally dance" who had submitted an application. Eleanor was doing her best to ignore those remarks as she leaned forward to pluck an herbal cigarette from the ashtray. Leaning back against the couch, right arm against the back of said couch, she eyed the half-elven male with a droll stare. "If ye mentioned yer lassie a body mair time, Martin, Aam gonnae remove 'er frae th' list." That promptly shut him up, his face twisted as though he'd sucked on a lemon. "Uh-- ah, uh, right-o, then," he mumbled, waving a hand agitatedly for the next dancer to take the stage.
Meri was no stranger to the establishment by now. Today Eleanor was in plain sight, but Meri does not go straight for her. There is the need for booze -- for both women, let'a be honest, and so that is where Meri goes first. The bar to claim a bottle to be shared. The cork is wrestled from the neck with relative ease as Meri makes her way to the couch that Eleanor is sitting at. Plop. It is neither graceful or ladylike, but into the couch Meri goes claiming a spot right next to El. A bit from the bottle and then it is passed over to Eleanor with no care as to if she is finished with her current drink. Sharing was caring. And then the assessment begins, of the dancers, with no shame in her opinion but she was decent enough to drop her voice in volume. Meri was not always a total arse. "That one is pretty cute, nice butt if I say so myself." She motions to one of he better looking dancers on the stage first before pointing to a second. "She has got a nice body but she is the sort you'd need to put a bag over her face to bang, eh? I do notice though...This is not an audition for male dancers. Still no hope for a ladies night? You guys must hate me."
Eleanor heard the door to the Office open, and she tore her irked stare from Martin toward the door, a nebulous smirk tilting along her full lips. "Meri," the spell-rogue greeted with a nod, sinking back into the couch once more as she left Martin to his notes. She offered up that herbal cigarette following a deep inhale, trading it for the alcohol the other blonde had acquired. Her comments had the rune-inked woman snickering, celadons seeking out the profile of Meri's features in the dim club lights. "We dae, actually - first Friday ay th' month," the woman drawled with a nod and arc of brow. "We're foo thaur, but th' burds ur harder tae keep aroond. Cenril doesnae favur th' fairer a scuttle."
Meri was actually surprised at this little revelation. It seems all her nagging at finally paid off! Red lips twist up into a proud smile, even if this decision had been made independent of Meri's nagging it still felt like a victory in her book. "That is what I am saying. Us skirt? We're so picky and so hard to please...Better to just give us what we want, eh?" These trades with Eleanor are always embraced and enjoyed, she would happily swap herbal cigarette for booze back and forth until they managed to run out of both. "I guess that means you and I gotta mud wrestle now, least I told Hudson I would entertain that notion once he hired a male dancer." That smirk on her lips takes hold again. "Then again, he may just forget all about that. Man is busy." The woman mimics Eleanor slightly, in that both booted feet are kicked up onto the same table that supports Eleanor'a foot. Boots are crosse at the ankles. "Speaking of business, you wanted a chat." And here is where Meri goes silent, to let Eleanor get her part in.
Eleanor would inform Meri, actually, that they've had a ladies' night for a couple of months now, and Hudson had nothing to do with the hiring of the males -- so, she was still free from the obligation of said mud-wrestling. This was punctuated with a wink before the spell-rogue was drawling around that herb pinched temporarily between her lips during one of their swaps, "Aye. We need tae move th' doost tae Rynvale." They wouldn't wait on Hudson much longer. "Ah need tae ken if it's safe tae move shop thaur." With a side-eye, the woman added slyly, "Th' Oracle can gie ye a coople ay fowk if ye need."
Meri bawks and looks very annoyed, in a not serious fashion, because this has seriously been a thing for who knows how long and Hudson has not even seen fit to tell her! Fighting words may have to be had. At least Eleanor has a clever way out of mudwrestling for the amusement of men. Not that Meri would mind mudwrestling without El, but they can't always give the boys what they wanted, right? This line of questioning about Rynvale is met with a gentle shrug, brow lifting just a fraction. "As far as my knowledge goes you guys will have no competition out there. The only shady faces that I know of on the island thus far count themselves as a friend to someone or another in this estabslihment. Sometimes multiple people. You might find yourself in a bit of a spot with 'the law of the land,'" There was only one person in Rynvale she was referencing with that statement. She has heard rumors about that one. "But to be quite honest with you in my years there I have not really had an encounter with him on the island. I am sure if business establishes itself, we will pull his attention but as long as we hire people that don't snitch...I think the transition should be an easy one, whenever you guys are ready."
Eleanor nodded, reaching forward to take up the remainder of her glass of whiskey, finishing it off with a gulp but holding onto the glass thereafter, curling it against her collar. Celadons studied the other blonde while Martin continued to take notes on the dancing interviews behind her. "Aye. I've heard ay a fellaw. We need tae gie in, under his beak if we can." Her gaze grew sly and sidelong. "Start askin' abit a ship." And not just any ship: El was determined to find The Eternity for Leo. Valen's lead hadn't turned up much in the way of results, but El had other resources.
Meri's gaze begins to wander from Eleanor and to the stage, though there was still a certain level of disinterest even as she watched the interview process. "Man, these girls have to make more in a week than I do in a damn month." This is said rather absentmindedly, not like Meri could ever really entertain the thought of a career change. "It is not hard to get in under his beak. Port manifests can be altered, he does not even need to know what is coming in or going out." Not that it sounded like they were into the notion of exporting out of Rynvale, unless it was in the form of gold. "Who is to say that we even need hit the docks? Sure it might be the easiest and most direct route but it is an island and anchor can be dropped anywhere surrounding with a boat running the goods in." A faint shrug, it seemed straight forward to her but she also got the impression that Leo and El may be expecting some sort of snag. Of what? She is not privy to that information yet. "Not the first to mention he need for a ship. Surprised you two have not managed to procure one yet. If I am to be asking questions, I gotta know more about what we are looking for. For sale? To borrow? What are we looking for?"
Eleanor shrugged, shaking her head. "It's nae the port authority Aam woriat abit, loove," the spell-rogue drawled in her husky Celtic-sounding accent. "It's th'local authority pest 'at point." Ranok of course. They were on the same page with this. A birdie had hinted that the runesmith might know the whereabouts of the ship, but for now, she wanted to go through Meri and her other Rynvale connections. "Th' Eternity." El wasn't prepared to say more on the subject, although her expression made it clear that the 'how' they got it mattered a lot less for now than the 'where it was' factor. "Ye fin' it information oan thes ship, ye brin' it straecth tae me, nae a body else." She couldn't risk Leo getting all hot-headed about his beloved ship, not if it could be avoided.
Meri flashed Eleanor a knowing smirk, for Meri also was not worried about the port authority, but they were clearly on the same line of thinking. Feet find their way to the ground and shortly after Meri pushes up and out of her seat, leaving he bottle of Eleanor's good whiskey on the table for the spell-rogue to finish off. Further information was not something that Meri needed, but at least she has an idea of what. Now to ask around about a specific ship (that probably has a reputation with Leoxander she presumes) without raising too much alarm or suspicion. It was a tall order. "I will see what I can find out and if I find out anything I will come back to you. To you." That point is intentionally emphasized. Anyway, El, things to do, places to go, people to see. I really should be on my way and I think Martin really wants to know if you will hire his girlfriend or not. So I will let you to your business." With a wink, Meri moves for the departure.