RP:Job Deception

Part of the The Dust Up In Cenril Arc

Summary: Josleen accepts a job at the Xalious Chemist Shop and doubles as an agent in the Emelyan-Hudson scheme. Desperate to earn some gold, she turns a blind eye to any ethical quandries she may have.

Xalious Village

Emelyan had worked the chemist over too hard. The man was stressed, and had too much hanging over his head, too many hours to work on his own, and no money to hire help. That's why Emelyan had come to help out. "Listen. I know we've put a lot on you, and that's why we're bringing her in. She'll make your life a hell of a lot easier." "You try explaining that to my wife. A pretty young thing like Josleen working in my shop? She knows I can't afford help. How am I gonna cover that up?" "Simple. You CAN afford it now, because you have a steadier clientele. I'll even have someone very polite come over to dine with your family one eve. You've been saving the extra money you're making, right? Soon, you're gonna be able to spend it, and stop. Worrying. The mages of the Tower dodge the very taxes they themselves impose, they're not going to be breathing down your neck anytime soon. They don't expand, and their power hunger is limited to their books. They don't marry well with politics, and what ones in the tower are remotely noble, have their interests elsewhere. You just need to take care of your family, and for hell's sake, keep what's in your pants to your WIFE, man."

Josleen enters the chemist shop oblivious to the fact the chemist may or may not be harboring impure thoughts about her. It’s better this way, though it’s unlikely Josleen will remain ignorant of this fact for long. As if on cue, the little bell above the door rings and in walks Josleen just after Emelyan, child apparent, scolds the old lecher about adultery. “Emelyan, Mr. Terry.” She smiles and nods in greeting. In a village this small, everyone knows each other’s names. “I heard you could use some help, Mr. Terry. I only know very little about chemistry, but I am a quick learner.”

Emelyan looks up with a smile that didn't quite reach his orange eyes as Josleen enters. Few earned his real smiles... he was a callous individual, after several lifetimes worth of horror and struggle. But, that was also why he was here... the one bright ray of sunshine in his life had found its way to this world. Yukiko. And he'd be damned if she was going to want for aught, now that he'd found her. "Miss Josleen, Terry here is a fine student himself, with all the makings of a fine teacher. With your help, once he has things under control around here once more, I've no doubt you'll have the opportunity to learn much about chemistry. I've provided blueprints for the shop, in means of expansion and better organization, but haven't the time to put them into effect myself. Within the next few weeks, I should have carpenters out to look at the shop, and talk of renovation, however. Just enough time for you two to work on preparation." Emelyan would then turn his full attention to Josleen, as Terry shook his head, and waved over a client that stumbled into the shop looking for some or other miracle herb on the cheap that didn't exist. There were a set of chairs in the corner of the small store, where Emelyan would sit, and wave for Josleen to take her own seat. "I am surprised that you didn't keep running for office after the events that transpired, dire though they were. I lost a lot in wine, and was quite wrought with myself that I wasn't in attendance for the elections. I might have been able to make a real difference if I had been." Something else he'd beaten himself up over. "Tell me, do you intend to continue such ambitions in the future, Josleen? If Hudson has informed you well of our mutual enterprise, then surely you know how it could be of benefit."

Josleen shrugs at Emelyan’s question as if conceding his point. “I understand what you’re saying, but am unsure how the future of this village will unfold. The terrors of late have left the village with little appetite for politics. The people are scared, and my efforts are better spent raising money to provide a militia and repair the clinic. Or perhaps found a new clinic altogether. But I am talking dreams. We should speak of the here and now. What exactly do you need me to do here? Hudson was hazy on your end of operations.”

Emelyan nodded his head along with her words, listening well. She cared for the village, and he liked that about her. She had a stake in things, something that kept her grounded to her chosen tasks. "I am the alchemist." He waved his hand. "I'm the experience, in this operation. I've built and destroyed empires, criminal and otherwise. I perfected the product, and see it through from beginning to end. Supply, cooking, distribution. Once we expand, I'll have to... delegate more. Distribution, in Cenril, where the market is fresh, perhaps Larket later down the road. Humans are our demographic, they'll pay in hard coin, and have the most robust of self destructive societies surface side of Hollow. Hudson helps with the cooking. He's good, and has the potential to be great. More over, he's street smart. Cunning. Good with people. That last trait is one I especially lack. I've never been a people person." He took a flask out of a coat pocket, unscrewed the cap, drank a swallow. It smelled of very, very potent spirit. Perhaps pure alcohol. What a kid. "Xalious needn't look to the mage's tower, in a time like this. If you can make sure our supply remains intact, then the clinic might not be a very distant dream at all. Both of us can do with putting in a few hours of volunteer work with the current clinic until then, though. They need it."

Josleen scoffs at the idea of volunteer work at the current clinic. “Perhaps if they are desperate enough they will accept my work,” she mutters enigmatically. “I used to work there… It is run by members of the Guild. I was trained by the shamans in Frostmaw. Thus my healthcare philosophy also differs from the tower.” The way she purses her lips suggests she isn’t sharing the whole truth. No one looks that cross over a difference of professional opinion. She takes a deep breath and smiles before returning to the subject at hand. “But right now I am happy to help you and Hudson,” she says. She’s careful to never mention the drugs or what exactly their business is. When he spoke of distribution her smile tensed, and it tenses again now as she tiptoes around the subject. Drug trade makes her uncomfortable. She doesn’t share Emelyan’s joy in chaos, or Hudson’s indifference to the ethics of their new business venture. So why is she involved at all? Hudson knows, and he’s the only one. She’s too prideful to admit aloud that she is broke and financially desperate. Desperation has a way of weakening ethical barriers. She navigates this by turning a blind eye to the end product of her work here. Her preference to be a paid machine in a cog far, far away from the ugliness of drugs is hinted at by her statement-question, ”Just tell me what to do specifically and I will.”

Emelyan watched people, closely. He related poorly, but he was good at reading, had to be. Had to be as good at knowing their intentions as he was bad at communicating his own. He took joy in chaos... but preferred to help, rather than hurt. He knew how build an 'honorable thieves guild', however. How to muscle out more ruthless predators, in favor of a softer criminal underground, one with rules, with boundaries. Cenril needed the help more than any other city in Hollow. Human city, at least. He doubted he could ply his trade among Drow, no matter how good he may be. Too xenophobic. So it went with most other civilized races, all to different degrees. He was even hunting vampires in Cenril that preyed upon those who would soon be his target consumers. Violence was about the only way he could contribute to public relations... controlled violence. But in chaos, he lost himself. Here, he was seeking to find. She wanted in on a need to know basis. Her distaste was written all over her features for anyone to read. Terry was a good man, indiscretions aside, and she was a good person, as she viewed herself. She'd serve best, here. He looked at it with absolute objectivity. Her own issues with the healer's guild, he wouldn't pry into, likely ever, unless she came closer into his narrow fold of personal trust. His very, very narrow fold. "All you need to do, is work for Terry. For now. You'll be paid, well above normal labor wage. There will be busy times to come, however, and more than a few long days, as we renovate. Terry has to expand, to cover up how successful he really is. We'll have dummy clients coming in, and slowly, I need you to become the face of this store. The smile, the greeting. What people look forward to about coming to look for things, mostly that don't exist. Terry will be very helpful in teaching you about the basic alchemy you need to know to help with the shop, though most of it is going to be simple organization for some time. If someone comes in looking for something more complicated than a tonic to cure a foot fungus, you lead them Terry's way, otherwise, they shouldn't be talking to him save to hand him money. They should want to come to you, and you need to be the one to thank for Terry's incredible success in business."

Josleen smiles at the simple, crime-free (mostly) explanation. “Perfect. I can do that. I understand the objective and all that. I can start tomorrow.” She watches Terry deal with a genuine customer, then takes in the dank little shop. “I’ll give this place a feminine touch too.” The would certainly be better for optics.

Emelyan nodded. He did that a lot when talking to people, lest he look like he wasn't listening... which he almost looked like. It was just the way the gears in his head worked, was all. "A much needed touch, we can all agree. And that'll do fine. Terry will have a key for you, and you needn't worry for fools picking the lock to rob the store in the night. I made it myself." As well as the keys to it, beautiful things. Emelyan had a rather fine gift for locks and keys, and clocks. As the thought crossed his mind, he pointed to a wall. "Over there. Make room for a grandfather clock. It'll be moved for a while during renovations, but keep it wound, once every six hours while you work. Keep track of the time. If we need for clandestine communication, we'll leave notes in the clock. None other than you is to touch it, save for the move, and only you will have the key. It will be enchanted, and only you should open it, else there be dire consequence. If you fail to wind the clock, or tap a small recess I'll have upon its back panel, I'll know something is amiss, and help will be sent. I believe in strict precautions and contingencies, so don't be alarmed by this. I do such things with even the most trifling of my affairs." Two keys for her. "I'll give you the clock key myself, when it is brought."

Josleen takes the keys and pulls her key ring from her genuine Kreekitaka purse. She attaches the keys to her normal set as she speaks. “Seems a bit extreme, doesn’t it?” She lowers her voice as Terry passes. He disappears into the backroom and she starts again. “What if I simply can’t come to work because some other catastrophe has befallen Xalious? Or am called away by emergency? Perhaps the clock--and correct me if this can’t be designed--simply skips1:13. That is it freezes at 1:12, and starts again at 1:14. Hardly anyone will ever notice this. If I set it to 1:13, that communicates an emergency signal to you.”

Emelyan of course, had already thought of all that. "Then it will be followed up on. Your absence will have no need to be reported, and someone will fill in for your while you are gone, without you having to lift a finger or mention otherwise. In all cases, someone will make sure everything is running smoothly... in most cases, myself, but if not I, then someone else I have deemed competent enough to handle matters such as burglary, your leave of absence, or widespread violence in which they will safeguard our interests within the shop, whether that means movement of supply, destruction of evidence, or otherwise. If the clock skips one thirteen, I will spend however long it takes to find a four leaf clover. For good luck." Superstitions were oft founded in the very real supernatural, he found, but some things just required doubting. Otherwise, one would spend their whole lives avoiding ladders, murdering black cats, and believing hobbits were evil.

Josleen nods at Emelyan’s explanation. “Alright. You know the best course of action. That will be good.” She glances at a clock on a shelf and sighs. “I’m sorry, Emelyan. I need to be somewhere.” She rises to leave just as Terry returns to the shop floor. “I’ll be in early tomorrow, Terry. Take care Emelyan, Terry.” She nods at each in turn then flashes a pretty smile before turning to leave.