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Post by Cassie Vimes on Feb 25, 2009 23:45:07 GMT 1
Cassie had spent the past several days wallowing in abject misery and self pity from the comfort of The Hog. Ed was being remarkably nice and understanding about the whole thing, possibly because she was liable to burst into tears at any moment and he wasn’t all that good at dealing with crying women. Well, Cassie secretly thought he was, but it would ruin his carefully maintained gruff manly exterior if people knew that. Just like she was banned from telling everyone he liked to snuggle.
There was only so long she could face dwelling on the painful memories before she started to get frustrated though. Cassie needed a distraction and since her funds weren’t limitless, and she was still shelling out for a room at The Three Broomsticks even though she wasn’t technically sleeping there, it was probably about time she got a job. Of course it would probably make more sense to just give up the room, but she felt like she was sponging off of Ed’s kindness enough already.
Besides she wasn’t quite ready to give up the room she’d shared with Dacian yet and she didn’t know what the hell Ed would think when she came back to The Hog’s Head with a suitcase of full clothes and a sword. So, with an approximate approach to a CV in hand Cassie set out, wrapped up properly this time, to try and find work in the quaint little town of Hogsmeade. She wasn’t feeling particularly enthusiastic, there couldn’t be that much interesting work to be had in such a sleepy little village.
Cassie was just about to give up on the whole stupid affair and go back to moping when she stumbled across Scores. She was not a naïve young woman and even in the cold light of day it was obvious exactly what kind of club it was. Perfect. Her face split into a wide grin as she slipped into the reception area, not bothering to move any layers. At the moment the cold was even more unwelcome, in fact she was perhaps a little overdressed. Hat pulled down low, scarf tugged up to cover her mouth, gloves, thick winter coat and that was just the outer layers.
”Hello?” She called. Scores obviously kept slightly different business hours. One in the afternoon was not a good time for strippers. Cassie approached the front desk, it’s primary function seemed to be to display a wide array of colourful and highly tactless adverts for the kind of entertainment found here. She leaned over the surface, lifting one leg off the floor with balance as she tried to peer curiously behind it. [/font] |
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Post by Silas Rosier on Feb 26, 2009 8:47:12 GMT 1
In theory Silas Rosier was meant to be asleep 5am-1pm to fit around the 3pm-4am business hours of Scores. Although, everyone knew he couldn’t be trusted to show up to work on time let alone fall asleep at a (relatively) reasonable hour. By the time he'd gotten to bed that day it was ten thirty in the morning (hey, annoying vampires in graveyards was hard work!), and half an hour ago some idiots next door had woken him back up. As a result Silas was running on a mere three hours sleep and a patience span averaging two minutes. Not good.
Coffee.
He needed coffee.
Where the fuck was the coffee?
Oh hell. Of course he was out of supply at home. He remembered the workers at Scores were more or less addicted to it, so chances were there was some horrid instant brand to be pinched in the staff room. Like hell someone could dance eight to twelve hours straight without some artificial energy. Workplace it was then.
One roar of emerald flames later Silas was stepping out of the fireplace in the reception area, brushing ash off his clothing. Unexpectedly he wasn’t the only one there. Which idiot had left the main doors unlocked? Was she one of his? Blonde, nice figure, so most likely. Why she was here and peering over the reception desk he had no clear idea, although he couldn't complain considering the view she was providing. Now he regretted not at least brushing his hair before leaving. Never mind, she could wait.
”Half a second,” Silas said brusquely as he whisked past her, unlocking the door to the main club with a jab of his wand then disappearing through it.
Lethal dose of caffeine first. Girl later.
It took him about fifteen minutes to finally meander back looking appeased with a mug in his left hand. It was almost sinfully bitter, but he’d expected that. To do list: proper coffee for the staff room ASAP.
”Sorry to keep you waiting,” he apologised automatically, slapping on a customer-service smile while silently wishing for her to get the fuck out. He didn’t want to deal with people this morning. Morning? Or was it afternoon now? Fuck-all if he knew what time it currently was. If he got his hands on those music playing idiots he was throttling them all by hand. Didn’t they have work or something?
Now he was looking at her face it didn't take him long to realise he actually had no clear idea who she was. It couldn’t exactly be said that tall pretty blondes were the usual type of people who would be lingering around his building looking to get in. She was carrying a folder in that same ominous fashion Jacaranda always did. Eesh, bad sign if there ever was one. What did she want? ”I'm the owner. Any particular reason you’re in here?” |
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Post by Cassie Vimes on Feb 26, 2009 21:20:17 GMT 1
Of course Cassie knew what the sudden sound of a fire flaring up meant, she was familiar with floo powder after all. But, perhaps because the sound was muffled by her hat covering her ears or maybe because she was distracted by a particularly improbably scenario on one of the leaflets, she didn’t realise she had company until he was talking to her. She pushed away from the reception desk almost sheepishly, clambering on the furniture didn’t make a good first impression, although in a place where agility was a requirement it might earn her brownie points.
She only nodded as he hurried past her, concentrating instead on taking in his appearance. Frazzled was the word that came to mind, but in that handsome rugged way, not in the hobo who just walked in off the street way. When he’d brushed her off saying he’d only be half a second Cassie had known he hadn’t meant literally, but damn she hadn’t realised he be gone so long. She checked her watch and when watching the little second hand tick by got boring started to struggle out of her coat.
By the time the man returned Cassie had shed several layers and so looked far less like an abominable snowman. She’d hopped up to sit on the reception desk and was squinting at one of the fliers, holding it upside down to see if that made the poses the woman on it was contorting herself into looked any less painful from that angle. ”No problem.” She said with a winning smile, slipping off the counter to walk over and shake his hand.
He was the owner. Perfect! Cassie’s grin got wider. ”Actually, I’m looking for a job. Er, I have a CV.” She explained eagerly, giving the folder she was still holding a little shake to draw attention to it. She probably hadn’t thought this through very well, Ed would probably have a heart attack if she got a job in a strip club. She had no intention of becoming one of the dancers though, there must be other employment in these places, somebody had to clean the place up, keep the bar stocked, serve the alcohol. All that jazz. [/font] |
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Post by Silas Rosier on Feb 27, 2009 14:29:36 GMT 1
||OoC|| Thanks a lot Ann, like I have any idea what you mean by a 'flirty handshake'. xD ||Silas was in the habit of including the way someone shook hands as part of a first impression. Cassie’s handshake was reasonably firm, which earned her an initial pass, although the way she lingered then lightly squeezed his fingers while letting go was interesting. Was a flirty handshake even possible or was he just too exhausted to think straight? Never mind. The girl knew how to get off to a good start, that was all that mattered.
So far so good until Cassie opened her mouth again. At her accent Silas found himself almost having to resist the notion it might be better to ignore her and go straight home like had been the original plan, whether she was good looking or not. It was a style of speaking he’d recognise anywhere, although he was accustomed to it spewing out of Ed’s mouth with a deeper tone. Australian. Ergh. The countries association with the Hogs Head Barman had made anything to do with Australia sit on about the same level of respect for him as botflies and Law Enforcement. Still, it wasn’t her fault she’d been born in the land of kangaroos where Ed’s miserable hide had sprung from. A good accent was always liked by the customers, it made a good talking point and talking points made for more tips.
”I see. Anything you got in mind?”, he asked, holding his hand out for the folder that Cassie was providing and taking a large mouthful of coffee with the other. On the grand scale of things a pretty girl asking for a job was one of the better circumstances he could hope to deal with while tired and irate. It was a generally simple process that didn’t take long; Silas’s employment policy was a little more lax than usual although that was fairly stock-standard for the industry.
Putting the mug on the reception desk to free his hand he started flicking through the CV for anything that stood out. By the looks if she’d been moving around a lot, nearly every country on the frigging planet was represented on the thing. Credit where credit was due, at least she had bothered to bring a CV to start with. The usual employment scenario tended to involve girls showing up with nothing in hand asking for work, no questions asked.
”We’re pretty full up on dancers if that’s what you’re asking about, but we had a waitress retire two weeks ago due to pregnancy and apparently we’re a cleaner short. Interested in that?” Silas asked, looking back up at her. Her funeral if she took the cleaner position, overexcited men and Indecent Exposure laws tended to result in sticky bathrooms and he didn’t even want to think about what was to be found hidden under some of the seats. That wasn’t to say Scores suffered from poor hygiene, but the job was hardly classy and basically wasted on such a girl.
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Post by Cassie Vimes on Mar 1, 2009 0:27:08 GMT 1
Usually Cassie didn’t give a handshake much thought, it was just a means to an end. A nifty way to get past the awkward initial introduction with somebody. On her travels she’d shaken hands with a lot of different people and she didn’t have the inclination to judge them based on that small gesture. Besides she’d usually made her mind up about a person long before their hands even touched. However this handshake mattered, the man could be her future employer and he was cute in a ruffled sort of way. Maybe a little old for her (and she had Ed she reminded herself sharply), but there was no harm in making a good impression.
She let her hand linger on his for a little longer than was strictly necessary and flashed him a smile to match. ”What have you got?” Cassie asked, sounding a little keener (try desperate) than she’d meant to. The thought of traipsing back to The Hog with no job was beginning to weigh on her mind and, having had the chance to explore the town rather thoroughly since her arrival in Scotland, Scores was one of the few remotely interesting places in Hogsmeade. Sleepy little towns, while relaxing in theory, made Cassie restless so she never stuck around for long.
Giving him the chance to read her CV over she took to staring longingly at his mug of coffee. God, what she would give for a mug of the stuff. It was some cheap instant brand, she could tell from the smell, but even that was beginning to smell quite appealing. Her gaze snapped back to him as he spoke, feeling more than a little relieved that there were no dancer spots open, Cassie had absolutely no problem with strippers, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be one.
She made a face at the thought of a cleaning job at the club, it may seem a little classier than a lot of the bars she’d been to in her time she could still imagine the gross combination of spilt drinks, vomit and suspicious stains would not be fun clean up. Even with a good scouring charm on her side. That left witnessing, she’d heard the tips were pretty good in places like this. ”I have some waitressing experience.” She gestured at the CV still in his hand. ”It’s the job I’d prefer.” Cassie admitted, like he would have missed the wrinkle of her nose as he’d mentioned the cleaning job anyway.
She was struck by the realisation that she hadn’t introduced herself yet. Neither had he come to think of it. He wasn’t going to hire her without at least getting her name first was he? Clearly this was more of a work, get paid, no questions asked kind of place. All of her previous employment had been a lot more formally arranged, with an interview and everything. ”I’m Cassie Vimes.” She supplied, hoping it would prompt him to supply his name. If not… Well, she could always call him boss until she found somebody she could ask. There was a certain point when it became to late to ask for a person’s name without looking like a fool. [/font] |
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Post by Silas Rosier on Mar 1, 2009 5:31:22 GMT 1
”Oh, I know,” Silas replied with an amused look in his eye, then tilted the folder slightly to draw her attention to it. ”It was in your CV. I’m Silas Rosier, good to have you wanting to work here.” Forgetting an introduction could have been mutually embarrassing, though he half expected her to know who he was already. You didn’t own a strip club in an innocent little town without becoming relatively known. Although, to be fair, by the looks of Cassie’s CV she hadn’t come into the country until recently from a hotel stint in France so it was entirely possible she didn’t know a thing about the town.
”I was going to...” Would it be easier to kick her out, swallow entirely too much sleeping potion and reschedule if he woke up that century? Bed? Coffee? Work? Fuck it; he might as well get everything over and done with properly before he forgot, which was a seriously likely scenario at the moment as he couldn’t even remember if he’d put the coffee jar back in the cupboard not two minutes ago. That and getting the interview out of the way now might shut Jac up about that ‘responsibility’ thing she kept shrieking at him like a harpy eagle. ”Never mind. Let’s just get it all out of the way before I forget why I’m here.”
After taking a large mouthful of the coffee, Silas started replying what sounded very much like a speech he’d given a number of times before. ”There’s little difference in waitressing here than anywhere else; customer signals, you go over, fetch them what they want, give them the evil eye if they don’t tip, be extra nice if they do to tempt them to do it again next time. If you want a little extra you can fetch them a dancer they like. You’re not required to flirt, but I can tell you that it comes in handy.
“As for actually bagging the job, I really hate drawn out interviews so the way it works is simple: you show up - which you have - and if I like what I see I give you something to sign and you start working when you’re first available. First five days I don’t pay you anything and you can be sent home at any time, but you keep what you make in tips so you’re not going home empty.” Not that getting a business week of free labour hurt Silas’s wallet any. ”Standard tipping rate is a sickle a drink, if you keep yourself busy you should be fine. At the end I ask the other staff what they think, and if they’re impressed and you haven’t changed your mind you get to stay on properly. If you’re happy with that we can get started.” |
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Post by Cassie Vimes on Mar 9, 2009 1:01:50 GMT 1
”Oh yeah, of course.” Cassie felt an embarrassed flush darken her cheeks and she grinned sheepishly. Sure enough at the top of the parchment, in fairly neat writing, was her name. She’d written the damn CV in the first place she should have remembered what she put on it. Great, first five minutes in the same room as the man who could potentially be her employer and he’d be thinking she was a ditzy blonde.
”Nice to meet you.” She replied, it seemed her idiocy hadn’t completely put him off of considering her for a job though, and she relaxed a little. ”I mean thanks for giving me a shot.” In face Cassie was a little stunned as he launched into a whole spiel about the technicalities of the job. Well, this was all pretty informal, she hadn’t even made it into the building properly and he was showing her the ropes.
Most of it she knew already from her previous experience working as waitress, but it was nice to hear the rates and rules that were specific to Scores. She definitely liked the sound of the tips, but working for five days without pay was surely illegal. And it totally sucked. Cassie bit her tongue to keep from complaining about it. She could stick out five days without getting into trouble. Besides with tips like that she could probably earn more than what she’d been paid at the hotel in Paris.
”Sounds reasonable.” She said with a little reluctance. ”I have a few questions before I sign anything though.” This whole experience had thrown her more than a little off kilter. It was a little unnerving that despite the informality of what she assumed was part of her interview she was still expected to enter into some kind of magically binding contract. Cassie would definitely be reading it carefully to make sure she wasn’t selling her soul or her first born or something. She hadn’t even planned to come to this part of town and yet here she was applying for a job in a strip club of all places. Ed was so going to throw a shitfit when he found out. [/font] |
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Post by Silas Rosier on Mar 9, 2009 5:23:14 GMT 1
Cassie’s IQ didn’t matter as long as she remembered which customer requested the shot of Lethifold's Peated Single Malt Fire Whiskey and who wanted to nurse a Blavod bottle. Silas wasn’t going to dismiss her immediately as a total moron because she had worked successfully as a waitress before, but really, Cassie wasn’t doing herself any favours with the look of dull apprehension even if it did make her nose look cute. A lot of the way Scores was run wasn’t conventional and it was a thing she’d have to adjust to.
What was she looking twitchy about anyway? The work? Silas didn’t quite draw the connection that it was his manner that was at fault. No matter what she seemed to be nervous about Silas found it was doubtful she’d be able to top his own attempt to get into customer service in a seedy bar fifteen years ago. First day on the job and he’d smashed a bottle over a punters head for complaining about the service. Obliviate did wonders on getting people to drop assault charges, so he’d discovered. Needless to say the employment there didn’t last.
In a flash the rest of the coffee was down and gone. ”It’s nothing problematic,” he said dismissively in regards to the contract, glancing down to reread her personal details, particularly the postal address she’d listed. ”The first one is just to say ‘Yep, I agree to working free five days on my allotted shift and if I have an accident I don’t get to sue, blah blah blah’. During the five days after that you also get to review and negotiate the second one, though it’s only simple stuff like pay, hours, responsibilities and whatnot. Technicalities. You got plenty of time to read it all and talk to whoever you need as well.” He shut the CV sharply and looked up. ”Anything specifically you wanted to ask?”
Anyone else would have just thought they’d had too much caffeine, but Silas knew that wasn’t the case. His headache seemed to be pulsating and intensifying behind his forehead now and there was a fresh knot his stomach, a thin film of sweat on his palms and noticeably elevated heart rate. He didn't even want to know what his blood pressure was doing. Silas very much suspected if he were to hold his hand out there was no way he’d be able to keep it steady. Damn. So much for another failed attempt at dropping down on booze consumption by replacing it with coffee. Fucking alcohol withdrawal symptoms. At least crippling headaches and palpitations weren’t too bad for a morning, but the symptoms were going to keep on piling if he didn’t do anything about it (read: drink more) and he didn’t have the behavioural control to stick through the discomfort.
Would Cassie be interested in a very late eye-opener? Probably not, but there was time to find out. At least if she let him run back to his office to get the paperwork he could pour a glass of whatever was closest and be done with it. |
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Post by Cassie Vimes on Mar 10, 2009 11:49:51 GMT 1
Despite her initial wariness Cassie found herself far more at ease as Silas talked in a little more detail about the contract. He had this easy charm about him and a way of explaining things that made them sound perfectly reasonable even if they probably weren’t. Of course it was probably all just an act, a way of getting her to sign the contract without reading the small print that stipulated she agreed to a place in his own private harem.
Cassie nodded anyway, just about ready to sign the contract anyway, harem and all. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t have the opportunity to read it over, negotiate if she wanted to, Silas has just said so. She’d have to get Ed to help her look at it, not that he was exactly the best legal mind of their generation, but he was the only person she knew in town. Her mind briefly flashed to Dacian and she wrinkled her nose unhappily; he was intelligent and probably had more experience with this kind of thing than most of the people in the world (he’d had plenty of time to pick up knowledge along the way), but he wasn’t an option.
”Is there a dress code?” She asked, filled with a sudden dread that she might be expected to serve the customers in her underwear. Hey, it was a strip club, it wasn’t like the rest of the workers would be exactly fully clothed. ”And what hours will I be expected to work during the five days before we’ve had the chance to negociate?” Cassie had been to plenty of interviews and knew it was a good idea to have a couple of sensible questions saved up. She didn’t want to look like she had absolutely no interest in a job she was applying for.
Her eyes flicked over to Silas and she was surprised to see him looking a little the worse for wear. Cassie had spent a lot of time in bars and knew withdrawal symptoms when she saw them. She hesitated, unsure whether she should say anything. ’I can see you’re addicted to something.’ Yeah, not the best thing to say to your new boss. Perhaps she should just try to get him inside before he keeled over or something. ”I’d also like a look around the club, if that’s ok?” [/font] |
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Post by Silas Rosier on Mar 11, 2009 0:02:35 GMT 1
Cassie’s nose wrinkle as she thought of Dacian hardly went by unnoticed and it seemed a little odd until she asked her next question. Ah, so that was what was worrying her. Silas laughed dryly, ”Don’t worry. If you were to serve naked the strippers would try to poison me. You’d steal all their attention.” Doubling as a compliment and technically true, the dancers paid the club to rent the floor and made income only through tips and private dances. If Silas started having the paid staff looking too distracting he’d be facing revolt. ”Most nights it’s just a black wifebeater with the Scores logo in gold on the back. Skirts or shorts are your pick. Occasionally we have theme nights as it amuses the customers, but you don’t wear anything much more exciting than that.”
Hours, shit, right. Like hell he had everyone’s schedules memorised. That was a waste of valuable brain space better suited to plotting the demise of a certain vampire. “Your hours will be the ones the old waitress left behind unless there’s a time you absolutely can’t manage. It should be magically entered into the first contract so you can look it over. You can take as long as you like over that one but its better if you can get it back today or tomorrow.” One in the afternoon wasn’t too late for such demands was it? Oh well.
Ouch. Particularly nasty head throb. Silas almost winced. It seemed to be getting worse since the coffee. Bad manoeuvre there. Caffeine was a stimulant and even though he was already feeling somewhat more awake it seemed to have set his withdrawal symptoms on overdrive at the same time. Jesus, why was he feeling so jumpy now? Was that the coffee or the withdrawal? Well, that eye twitch was definitely not the caffeine. Cassie volunteering to look around the club was the best thing she could have done, now he had an excuse to make a beeline for the bar.
”Alright, tour,” he announced more his own benefit and spun around leading the way through out of the lobby and onto the main floor. ”Central stage, obviously,” Silas announced, motioning at the black and gold structure as they went past it. ”The seats around there are the ones you gotta watch, because the men are usually too distracted by the close-up views or guarding their spots to walk up to the bar to get drinks themselves. They’ll signal with a hand up in the air most of the time, but they usually won’t turn you down if you ask them if they want anything either. Upstairs is open to the public if it hasn’t been booked for the day. There’s a little buzzer behind the bar that’ll go off if anyone up there wants a waitress. To the left there, that big door, leads down to the VIP rooms. Same deal, different buzzer,” he explained, nodding at each section in turn.
As they drew level with the bar Silas stopped, but stared on ahead. ”There’s a second stage down there with two smaller ones you gotta watch as much as the main. Entrance to the public toilets is hidden away in a corner. I suggest you use the staff one just as a safety precaution. Your toilet is there in the hallway to the left,” he said, gesturing at a semi-concealed door on the other side of the room. ”We’ll go down there to get your paperwork in a minute. The hall I mean, not the toilets. You’ll also find dressing rooms, general storage, staff room, manager’s office, and mine is the first to the left.”
Done with the basics, he quickly walked briskly over the bar, looking visibly an extra degree enthused as he eyed up the display bottles stocked up behind it. ”This is HQ,” he grinned, giving the bar two swift pats and abandoning the CV on it as he made his way behind and dumped the empty mug in a hole at the back, presumably to clean.
”The bartender will get you anything you need, and you’re meant to tip him every few drinks because most orders will go through you. You’re excused from that in the first five days however because you’re working for yourself. Best to double-check the drink prices with him until you memorise it because some customer is bound to try and hand over less. If they give you more, their loss and you split the extra between yourself and the bartender,” he said carelessly, fishing around for a glass and a bottle of something decent.
Finding something, Silas popped the lid off a bottle of vodka and took an experimental sniff. It wasn’t his usual choice but love for more expensive alcohol was burning a bigger hole in his pocket than he wanted to admit. He might as well waste himself on the crass stuff while there was no one to impress. Satisfied, and apparently now unaware Cassie was even there, he poured a glass and somehow managed to almost scull the thing in one shot. Silas paused only to pull a face as the vodka burned its way down and combined with the coffee aftertaste to produce something ass-nasty, then finished up and slammed the empty glass back on the bar.
Great. Coming off as a raging alcoholic on their first meeting. ”I usually... don’t...” he said half apologetically before deciding ‘Fuck it’. Never mind, it could be worse, and what mattered ultimately was if she stayed on to full employment or not. Without skipping a beat he continued:
”You’re allowed three drinks on the job tops, no more than one an hour, and you pay for it out of pocket. If a customer offers to buy you a drink you have to accept. You don’t need to drink it and for the love of God don’t leave them alone with it, just as long as they’re paying. Think I’ve covered everything, anything else you needed?” |
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