|
Post by Silas Rosier on May 30, 2010 8:11:18 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_bg.png,true][atrb=valign,top] | [rs=2][bg=ffffff][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_mainbg.png][atrb=style,background-position:top;background-repeat:no-repeat;] News of Seph and Rickie’s little spat at the restaurant had travelled fast. Hell, the two of them had hardly been subtle; yelling at each other and smashing glasses in full view of the public.
To say Silas was unhappy was an understatement.
Perhaps he should actually be relieved. Considering the crap that happened to him on a daily basis the fact Scores had lasted two and a half weeks since gala day without incident was nothing short of a miracle. But despite the bullshit that plagued him in his personal life, until now Scores had always been a reliable constant. Didn’t matter how hairy things got, Scores was always there, working perfectly and inoffensively in the background.
So what did that mean? Did the fact that he was only averaging one major incident a week mean that trouble was going to filter to his work life too to make up the slack? He fucking hoped not.
Silas scowled and jammed the stopper back into the absinthe bottle unusually hard.
This was as much the bouncers fault as anyone else’s. They should have intervened. But of course, the trouble was with new staff came gross incompetence. The restaurant was meant to be the nice, peaceful part of the casino without any major altercations. Therefore, all the new bouncers with no previous experience had been stationed up there. The second a fight had broken out involving staff and not customers they’d been at loss of how to proceed, and, for some fucking reason, gone to him.
Fuck Davies for taking a day off.
Silas stood up, unable to stay seated behind his desk. Wordlessly he crossed to the other side of the office, glaring at the room at large. His posture and the hand around the tumbler was unusually tense.
After telling off the bouncers for being idiots he’d sent them off to go and recover the two troublemakers, although, for once, Silas was in a touchy position was wasn’t entirely sure how to proceed. Rickie, despite his utter ineptitude as a bartender was one of the most useful people on his staff, and Seph... Well, Seph was an experiment best not wasted, small minded and petty as she may be. There’d be use for her yet. It was in his best interest not to piss either of them off too much.
Fuck it, he’d figure it out. Silas took surely mouthful of absinthe.
The bouncers had left enough time ago, they should be back with them any minute.
| [atrb=valign,top] | [atrb=valign,bottom] | [atrb=valign,bottom] |
|
|
Rickie Connery
Adult
Scores Bartender
Pfft me crazy? No way.
Posts: 51
|
Post by Rickie Connery on May 30, 2010 15:11:46 GMT 1
When Sephora had left the bar Rickie had stayed for a moment, a vain attempt at soldiering on so to speak. It hadn’t worked. He’d been far too furious and worked up to bartend and luckily with a shift so late at night him slipping away hadn’t caused too many more dramas. Besides his manager had pretty much told him to take the rest of the night off and go home, wherever that was. The young man had done as asked; he retreated to the cloakroom that smelt far too much of fresh paint for his liking to retrieve his jacket and the kitten soundly asleep within one of its pockets. Muck glanced up and mewed softly in greeting of his human friend as Rickie pulled on the coat and then tucked his head back under his paws and went back to sleep.
The gesture from the tiny animal made the man smile and his anger fade to nonexistence. With his mind clear it gave Rickie a chance to reflect on what had happened only moments ago. It had been a long time since he’d gotten that angry at someone. Almost a year. Absently he scratched at the silvery scars on the back of his neck as his mind wandered to a different place.
“What the fuck were you thinking?! Your fuckery put the whole company in danger!” “Rickie I’m sorry you feel that way, but you’re just a medic, you don’t understand tactics.” “No, you’re right; we medics are far too simple to comprehend battle strategy.” “Now come on, there’s no need for sarcasm.” “You know I’m right. Your decision was the wrong one and I was left to clean up the consequences. Look at me! I’m covered in the blood of the men you made into casualties.” “Connery, you’re just a kid, you wouldn’t understand and it’s not worth my time explaining to you. Now calm down and go back to battalion HQ and get cleaned up.” “What?! Is that it, are you kidd-“
A loud tap on the door followed by the impromptu entrance of a surly looking bouncer brought the flashback to an end and made Rickie flinch and duck instinctively. ”Boss wants to see you,” he grunted in a thick-as-mud West End accent. Well that was that, before he could have handed in his resignation Silas was going to fire him. Rickie nodded calmly in acknowledgment and as he followed the bouncer his heart began to race painfully in his chest and his head began to ache terribly. The night shifted into day and the built man in front became a slight and weedy looking orderly.
”Reason I found you is the Lieutenant wants to see you, says it’s important,” the orderly said distantly over his shoulder, far too worried about trying to sort out the papers in his hands to take proper notice of the medic behind him. Rickie only half grunted in reply, he knew he was in trouble and he knew exactly why too. Evans had deserved that beating -the prick- but now he wasn’t the one following some officer’s personal slave down the world’s longest barracks corridor. As each brightly illuminated window flashed past the young Irish medic began to wonder what form of imaginative punishment his superior would hand down to him.
”In ‘ere,” grunted Rickie’s new bouncer friend, ripping him out of the panic induced flashback and leaving him slightly disorientated for a moment. The pair walked solemnly through Silas’ unremarkable office door. ”Rickie Connery for ya boss. Dunno where Mick is wif the other one,” the bouncer announced before retreating almost too hastily out of the room. It was then just Rickie and Silas.
Military discipline made Rickie stand to attention without saying a word. He almost saluted automatically but looking at Silas kept anymore flashbacks at bay. Now they both had to wait for the appearance of Sephora Forrest.
|
|
Sephora Forrest
Vampire
Dhampir
Enjoys a bite to eat from time to time...
Posts: 145
|
Post by Sephora Forrest on May 30, 2010 15:51:54 GMT 1
How dare he? Really, who did he think he was? He was just some barman – she was a half vampire, a million times more unique and important than that little insignificant pest. He should be swatted out of existence like the insect he was, preferably soon. Now even.
This wasn’t the first time Sephora Forrest had contemplated murder, nor would it be the last. Actually, the practice wasn’t that uncommon, but normally she wasn’t this angry about it. And normally there wasn’t anyone to give a shit about it. Getting to know people fucked things up so much. Why did everything have to be so fucking complicated? Fucking hell!
A sharp crack interrupted her monologue, and slowly she glanced down towards the floor where one of her heels had snapped. She stood completely still, just staring in disbelief. What a night. What a fucking perfect night she was having. That bastard of a bartender must have sabotaged her shoes, that’s what he’d done! Rigged them so that when she started pacing and stamping around in the ladies room, as he knew she would, they would brake. This was unbelievable, un-bloody-believable!
Wrenching the other now useless heel off her foot, she turned very sharply on her heel, now many inches shorter, to go and give someone – anyone – a piece of her mind so she could vent some of this foul mood. The fact she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this mad was a very bad sign for whichever guy was stupid enough to cross her path in a dark alley.
Only, it seemed she wouldn’t be going to play with her food any time soon. The minute she stepped outside she came face to face – well face to chest – with a tough looking bouncer with a surly expression. It couldn’t match up to the beyond pissed half vampire’s though – if looks could kill, anyone in a ten mile radius would be in serious trouble right now.
Glaring up at the bouncer’s imposing form, she expected him to step aside. He didn’t. Fuck this.
“Boss’s office,” he snarled. “Now.”
The bouncer tried to push her along, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder which she flicked off with more force than was necessary, throwing him a look that said ‘Touch me again and die’ before stalking off in front of him. Scowling, Sephora tried to momentarily calm her temper by imagining small fluffy animals being run over. Silas. Silas would be able to help her. He liked her didn’t he? She could get him to fire Rickie. He might have heard the wrong story, but she’d set him straight. It’d be her word against his, and who was Silas going to believe?
Marching through Silas’s office door with her chin held high and eyes still lit with anger, she through Rickie the dirtiest look before standing in front of Silas’s desk. He didn’t look impressed, to put things mildly. Good, that made two of them. Rickie was standing like a stiff board – what a freak. Resting one perfectly manicured hand on her hip, she held up the ruined pair of heels in the other. Without them, both men towered over her, but as usual this still didn’t intimidate her – in Sephora’s world size didn’t matter.
“Where shall I start? Look what he did or it wasn’t my fault?”
|
|
|
Post by Silas Rosier on Jun 1, 2010 10:09:08 GMT 1
Silas heard Rickie’s footsteps outside his door before he saw him. The man looked like he’d just seen a ghost (or four) and looked oddly juxtaposed against the bouncer, who was about six inches shorter but made up the difference solely in muscle girth. It was like looking at a pencil standing beside an apple. With a curt nod of dismissal from Silas, the man left.
“Rickie, what the fuck do I do with you now?” he grumbled rhetorically.
Rickie looked extraordinarily on edge, though the scowl Silas was giving him probably wasn’t helping. He knew enough about the man to know that he damn near had a split personality – strangely meek or uncharacteristically aggressive depending on how you pushed him. Judging by his behaviour, he was dealing with the coward one today. That’d make it easier, at least. If his guess was correct, he’d have enough trouble with Seph, let alone the two of them.
Silas took another mouthful of the absinthe and crossed back to the desk, ignoring Rickie for now in favour of pushing his seat away with a foot and leaning his back against the edge of the desk. He folded his arms and glared at the posh carpet, moodily weighing up his options.
His guess about Seph was right. The girl suddenly barged into the room with all the impact of a knight on a white charger.
What the f—
Silas stood up and looked around in time to see her throw Rickie a look of pure filth before she marched up to his desk in what could only be called self-righteous fury. She seemed shorter than usual and was clutching something black in her hand. Silas scowled, immediately predicting trouble. What the fuck was she doing? The bouncer hadn’t followed; probably dumped her at the door the first second he could.
“Where shall I start?” she snarled, reaching the desk and thrusting what turned out to be a pair of shoes with a broken heel upwards for him to see. “Look what he did or it wasn’t my fault?”
... Okay, no. The last thread of Silas’s patience snapped.
“You can start with SIT down and shut the FUCK up,” Silas countered angrily, leaning forwards with his hands on the desk. Although considering the height difference, looming wasn’t exactly difficult. “I don’t give a fuck who started it, one of you should have finished it. Do you have ANY idea how much this is going to cost us in lost revenue? Well you should, because it’s going to come out of YOUR salaries.”
|
|
Rickie Connery
Adult
Scores Bartender
Pfft me crazy? No way.
Posts: 51
|
Post by Rickie Connery on Jun 2, 2010 12:03:11 GMT 1
Standing to attention was unpleasantly familiar as was the entire situation. Being called to a boss’ office, having the boss sigh and shake his head angrily at him was most certainly not a new experience for the young man. He’d always had a temper and it had flared many a time at school, at home and several times during his time as a soldier in the muggle armed forces. In the army he could no longer get away with breaking another man’s jaw for having insulted his dead mother or getting into a verbal brawl that resulted in property damaged, and it appeared as though Scores was the same.
The older man’s scathing scowl made Rickie’s heart beat wildly but still he did not change his stance nor did his gaze break from staring off somewhere into the middle distance. He kept his head up and his shoulders square to Silas despite the panic that threatened to overwhelm. ”I don’t know sir,” the Irishman answered the other’s question quietly although he had known it had been a rhetorical one. Like his stance, an answer a direct question was simply automatic.
Silas’ silence began to unnerve the taller man and his eyes traced his boss’ steps with apprehension. What was he doing? He could go to reach for an order of suspension –he’d seen one of those before- or a note to deliver the news Rick would be unemployed when he left the office. However, all the other man’s hand came to rest on was the lid of a bottle of absinthe. Rickie could have sighed in relief but he most certainly wasn’t out of the woods yet. He was eager to learn his fate but he guessed he wouldn’t be hearing much until Sephora turned up.
On cue she hurtled through the door looking positively foul. Her face embodied a storm, thunder and lightning included. Out of the corner of his eye Rickie saw the woman throw some of her pure fury his way and if it had been any other time he would have rolled his eyes at her. Instead he remained impassive and kept his focus on the man who held his working fate in his hands. Her derisive tone and snark embodied everything that Rickie hated in a woman. He stood by what he said; no one would ever want to be with the selfish, ignorant, nasty person that was Seph.
What happened after she spoke up and thrust her shoes at their boss would have made the old Rickie beam smugly. Silas countered the woman’s temper beautifully by putting her in her place with one sentence. As he had not been told to directly, the barman did not move to sit. ”How much money are we talking sir?” he ventured after Silas had finished. The thing that worried him most about having his pay docked was whether or not he would still be able to afford lodging at the Three Broomsticks afterwards.
|
|
Sephora Forrest
Vampire
Dhampir
Enjoys a bite to eat from time to time...
Posts: 145
|
Post by Sephora Forrest on Jun 2, 2010 13:43:50 GMT 1
She blinked briefly at Silas’s response. Ok, not quite what she was looking for. Fucking Rickie – who knew how long the dope of a man had been here feeding Silas the wrong information. To be perfectly honest Seph didn’t particularly consider things other than herself, so no, she hadn’t thought about lost revenue. Until now, she hadn’t even considered this would affect her.
Anger flared briefly in her eyes – she needed that salary to replace the shoes the barman had just destroyed! Never the less, she turned to sit down before thinking better of it. Connery was still standing up with his back all rigid like he was sitting on a pole. He did an excellent constipated tree impression. Suck up. Still, two could play at that game.
“Sorry boss,” she murmured, looking up at him through her eyelashes, her face earnest. That was about as close to a sincere apology as anyone was likely to receive from Sephora – it actually sounded genuine. Heck, it was possibly the least sarcastic sorry she’d ever given in her life.
Propping herself up on the arm of the chair to try and keep some of her height, she crossed her legs, dangling them above the ground. Good thing she always had time to keep up her toenail polish and foot maintenance or this could have been even more embarrassing.
Her features had so abruptly become placid again, even pleasant. Technically the wrong reaction, but oh well. She only hoped it would go down better than anger. Surely Silas should share her anger over the bartender’s incompetence? Never mind, talking herself out of this misdirected anger was the first plan of attack. If the damage hadn’t already been done.
Sir? He was a freak in his own class of freaks – what a total ass kisser. What sort of – no, focus. Dragging her train of thought back on track, she looked attentively in Silas’s direction. Rickie would not wreck her concentration no matter what shit he wanted to pull.
|
|
|
Post by Silas Rosier on Jun 9, 2010 10:02:23 GMT 1
Sephora glowered in anger, her reaction about on par with what Silas had expected. Seph didn’t really give the impression of a woman who was used to hearing the word ‘No’. Hell, with looks like hers, most men would probably bend over backwards at her every whim just for a shot at getting in her pants. Combine her sense of entitlement with her volatile temper, and Silas was gearing himself up for a fight.
But it never happened. Whatever Sephora was clearly dying to say she swallowed with a truckload of difficulty. Instead she actually apologised of all the fucking things, fluttering her eyelashes with a voice so sugary Silas thought he was going to catch diabetes.
... What the fu—
Okay, something was up, but he didn’t have time to ponder it. He knew Seph, and she sure as hell didn’t apologise.
“How much money are we talking sir?” Rickie asked, interrupting his thought process by pipping up and forcing Silas to stop staring belligerently at Seph long enough to acknowledge him.
That was a pretty damn good question actually. “Everything,” he answered roughly, glancing at Seph quickly to gauge her expression before looking back at the man standing in the back of the room. “Except what you make in tips,” he conceded angrily. “If you’re not making enough, what a pity, you’ll just have to work longer.
“Now, can someone tell me what the FUCK happened?”
|
|
Rickie Connery
Adult
Scores Bartender
Pfft me crazy? No way.
Posts: 51
|
Post by Rickie Connery on Jun 13, 2010 19:04:49 GMT 1
It could only be likened to waiting for a disaster, like waiting for a dud shell to explode after it had landed and kill everyone around it. Rickie didn’t even risk glancing in the direction of the obviously angry waitress just to be safe. He’d already incurred her wrath once and had to now deal with Silas’, he didn’t need any more. Of course, like his boss, Rickie fully expected the explosion –the fight the girl was known for- to come eventually and he was as ready for it as he could possibly be.
It never came.
Instead she actually did as she was told and Rickie was surprised that the effort alone she put in to do it didn’t kill her but what came next could have killed everyone in the room from shock. Sephora Forrest apologized. She actually uttered the word ’sorry’. What, was she sick? Had all the yelling and tantrum throwing she’d done hurt her throat so much she couldn’t carry on her indignant ranting here before Silas? As much as Rickie was dying to snort or react openly with some disbelieving gesture he remained steadily impassive. It wasn’t what he had been trained to do. Though, to anyone who had been watching the young man closely they may have noticed his dark eyes had widened slightly out of shock no doubt.
No way was it happening, it was a major deviation from normal; maybe it was a flash forward? Wishful thinking that had manifested into something like the flashbacks. No, that was wishful thinking. Just like it would be wishful thinking to hope Silas would not cut his entire pay. The older man’s answer to Rickie’s previous question made his heart sink to somewhere in the vicinity of his shoes.
If Rickie was expected to live off his tips he’d starve.
How could he afford to feed himself and the kitten in his pocket as well as pay board at the Three Broomsticks? Money was tight enough already. A sense of utter dread and panic began to set in. Out of habit one of the fingers of his broad hand began to tap, steadily increasing pace as the young man’s panic increased. God he needed a cigarette and soon. He tried to steady himself and the fluttering of his heart both before it could trigger a flashback and so he could answer Silas’ exceedingly blunt and to the point question.
”Sephora deliberately threw an order to the ground and after putting up with her attitude for so long I just snapped sir,” he answered without hesitation. Having found his voice once more, Rickie toyed with the idea of pleading his case further. ”Sir, please. Can’t you dock seventy-five percent of my pay instead of all of it? I’m not the best barman in the world so I don’t make a lot in tips, especially with also being on the late, late shift.” Silas Rosier was not known for his kind heart and lenient nature but Rickie was feeling brave and maybe the older man would remember the time his late night barman had had to pull rock salt out of his chest, no questions asked?
Wishful thinking, definitely a habit he’d have to stamp out because in his experience nothing good ever happened to him.
|
|
Sephora Forrest
Vampire
Dhampir
Enjoys a bite to eat from time to time...
Posts: 145
|
Post by Sephora Forrest on Jun 14, 2010 7:22:41 GMT 1
She maintained a face of angellic innocence as Si looked at her suspiciously. Honestly? She didn’t blame him – had she looked in the mirror she’d have been untrusting too. All the same, trust and belief was what she wanted here, and she was going to have to play it very carefully to get it away from the barman, who for some reason seemed to have it by default. She personally would trust him just about as much as an addict in a room full of heroin.
Her jaw nearly dropped when salaries were mentioned again. All of it! Was he fucking serious? She needed that! Possibly not as much as the barman considering he looked like he’d slept in the gutter every night, but the point still stood.
Heroically, she managed to keep her face relatively calm, despite her indignation and disbelief. There had to be a way of softening that up after this meeting, but for now she’d just have to settle for not making it worse.
…Which would have been easier if the barman had kept his trap shut and waited his turn. He was unbelievable! He had totally left out the whole reason the argument had started – her shoes. Cheeky bastard – asking for more money too. Seph made far more in tips than he did, but really, it wasn’t her fault she was more likeable and a lot better looking.
“That’s a real nice story Rickie, very touching,” she said sarcastically, raising her eyebrows in Rickie’s direction for added effect. “What really happened was my heel got caught on a table leg as I was heading off in a hurry – the table had been waiting ages for him to get the drinks ready. I stumbled and dropped the tray, which broke, and asked Rickie to clean it up since I didn’t have a wand… er, on me. Instead he told me to do it myself before deciding to drop the whole mess on me – as you can imagine I wasn’t too happy about having alcohol dropped on my shoes when there were customers waiting.”
When put like that her argument almost sounded fair. Which it was, in Seph’s opinion.
“But you’re right Silas, I should have finished it,” – permanently – “I’ll take responsibility for that.”
Ok, she could not believe how desperate times had become. All the same, shoes and possibly her job were at stake here, which meant any access to Silas’s blood. Not something she intended to be letting go of anytime in the foreseeable future. She’d better be getting out of this as quickly as possible, because she didn’t want any of this crap she was saying to come back and bite her. She needed to get out of here on the right terms, to at least give her a fighting chance. How could she beat Rickie’s sickening pleading without having to resort to it herself?
"I'll put in extra hours." - fuck, she'd need to anyway if she wanted to have anything left over for shoes - "If there's anything else I can do to make up for it...?"
|
|
|
Post by Silas Rosier on Jun 29, 2010 6:59:40 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_bg.png,true][atrb=valign,top] | [rs=2][bg=ffffff][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_mainbg.png][atrb=style,background-position:top;background-repeat:no-repeat;] Yeah, bullshit. From both of them. Silas’s expression remained firmly stony despite the barrage of replies and excuses. He wasn’t an idiot – he knew both of them had a lot at stake here and neither of them were going to incriminate themselves if they could help it. The truth probably lay somewhere in the middle, but the more Seph kept talking the more he found himself not caring. Whatever’d happened sounded utterly irrelevant.
“Right, shut up – both of you,” he snapped, lifting his hand before Rickie could bicker back and turn this into a circular ‘who did what’ argument.
Seph was being bizarrely obsequious, but whatever she was hoping to gain by pandering to his authority was beside the point. The mere fact she was able to back down and accept the shit she was in was all it took to avoid incurring the worst of his wrath. ... And offering to work extra for free also helped. Just sayin’. Unlike Rickie, who seemed to have grown selective deafness and asked for more money instead.
“Rickie, did you hear a fucking thing I just said?” Silas snapped back, throwing the man a dirty look. He hated having to repeat himself at the best of times, so Rickie was not earning himself any favours. “If you want more: work for it. God knows doing your fucking job properly would be a welcome change for once.”
It wasn’t really a big secret to either of them that the only reason Rickie still had a job was because he was a damn good healer who knew not to talk. It was a level of job security that the ill-fated bartender was never going to find anywhere else and they both knew it. Ergo, Silas felt justified in making the man’s life difficult this once. If the punishment wasn’t going to leave an impact, why bother? Rickie’d live once he stopped sulking.
Be that as it may, he highly doubted a mere pay cut (no matter how severe) was going to be the end of any more scuffles. Threats of punishment only held people at bay temporarily and Silas wasn’t going to test fate to see how long it took for Rickie to finally blow Seph’s head off, or vice versa. That’d probably scare off the customers. This situation required a slightly more permanent solution. (Although, them having a death match would probably work just as well.)
A conversation he’d had with Seph a week ago was suddenly starting to make a lot of sense. Fuck. It was a tricky line that he was about to walk. “Congratulations Seph, you’re getting yourself demoted,” Silas added, sounding distinctly sarcastic and fixing the girl with an annoyed glare. “Only because I don’t want either of you in the same room, you hear? As of next week all your shifts will be moved back to the strip club, and if ANYTHING else happens in between now and then, you won’t be nearly so lucky. Understand?”
| [atrb=valign,top] | [atrb=valign,bottom] | [atrb=valign,bottom] |
|
|