ph_logs | Velvet, Ambrosia, and Silk

Velvet, Ambrosia, and Silk

Who: Big Sis Magne & anyone 20+
What:
The official opening of the first proper entrepreneurship in Pumpkin Hollow!
When:
Late July and onward
Where:
the newly built, remodeled, and furnished VAS
Warning(s):
General warning for sexually explicit talk pertaining to the job functions of the business. Underage characters will not be able to enter via an enchantment on all entrances that stops them in their tracks. There are no exceptions. (My younger characters aren't allowed in, so neither are yours.)

Pre-opening Staff Party
Perhaps Magne talked it over with you while construction was underway, perhaps you heard about it through the grapevine, perhaps you were pinged thirdhand while looking for a position after newly arriving in town. Either way, if you were invited to come and see the newly-built, elegant multi-story brothel, a couple of nights before she had scheduled the official opening of the business proper, the Madame of this particular business will be throwing a small party to get her workers, friends, and little family together. It's a celebration of good fortune and tenacity. It's also a tour to let those that would be staying on the premises claim their rooms and start to talk over decorating with her.

The main parlor is pristine, with a bar and a few stools stationed around it, with bottles of liquor arranged behind it on sturdy shelves. Purchases from The Limoncello, and supplemental bottles from Erin Peters' collection. There are a few chairs, a few cushions arranged around a low tea table, poofy armchairs and footrests to go with them, loveseats and a couch. Around the walls are a couple of portraits already, one of the Madame herself, with an enchanted magnolia blossom attached to it softly glowing due to her presence in the building. This, she will explain, is the indicator for who is on staff at any given time, bending to the will of the person in the portrait. If they don't want it known that they're in the building, it won't show. First and foremost, it is to tell patrons who is available on staff. Hers is to let them all know when she is there. It will almost certainly be permanently lit. She will always be there for them.

There is a kitchen off the main parlor, specifically that that had come with the front of house that was originally just a normal two-storey home that Magne had built her business onto. It's not only functional, but now supporting the production of light foods for the gathering, with more supplies due to come in in the next couple of days. She had asked Max Maximum to be there a bit earlier than the rest to help her prepare for it all, knowing that he would want to be part of the hospitality for the event.

Everybody under her employ, regardless of position, would be walked through the rules and the security measures. Nobody would be in danger, so long as this was her business. Not if she could help it.

If Magne spots you on your own when you're in attendance, she will come and say hello. You may be the recipient of a big, squeezy hug and a "Hello darling!". Maybe even a kiss on the cheek. Sorry not sorry about lipstick smudges.

The Grand Opening
The wards are set. The rules are in place. A list of names is available with their own flowers beside them in place of the eventual portraits that will line the walls of the front of house. The curtains are drawn and the lights are soft and a radio plays softly from the shelves behind the bar. Everything is warm and inviting, and Magne? Magne is beaming. Her business is officially open.

"It's really happening," she says to herself, not for the first time since the construction was completed. She stands at the end of the bar, her hands clasped around one another mostly hidden by the wide sleeves of the kimono that she had had designed by committee to fit her, deep red with pink and gold embroidery of flowers and vines, the sash tied at her back. Her hair is pinned up in neat, elegant rolls and her makeup done subtly, and she looks every part the Madame that she decided she would be.

The rules are pretty standard, all things considered: consent can be recalled at any time. Refunds will only be given if all parties are in agreement that such a thing is called for. Abuse of her employees will be stopped by force if need be, and that will be done by Magne herself. This is not something that you want to happen to you. There will be nobody on the premises under twenty years of age, barring extremely specific gatherings to be announced at a later date. There is no "three strikes" in this building; testing your luck is not something that you will walk away from looking particularly pretty.

Welcome to the Velvet, Ambrosia, and Silk. Whatever your pleasure may be, it will be seen to.

(Well, unless you want something from a vampire, in which case you'll be put into contact with Lord Erik Osborne. They have an agreement.)

The Off Hours
When not at work, Magne can often be found upstairs, in her own personal living space constructed with a soundproof layer between her loft-like home and her business. Her furniture from when she had first acquired the house has been moved up and the remodel has been completed to put in a small tamaya. There are small pencil portraits of the people that she loves framed there, and the little, square-ish figure of one stationed just under his portrait looking somewhat out of place there among the fine wooden shelves. She can be found in front of this every now and then, knelt in proper seiza, offering her fallen friends quiet prayers and updates on the way that things have gone.

There is a door buzzer that can get her attention if you want her downstairs, but some people are welcome to simply come up to see her when they want to. Just step around a curtained corner and pull on a braided silk cord to signal your arrival.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I can do small. Maybe a ring?" César suggests automatically, because rings are small.

Obviously the only reason that suggestion is immediate. No subconscious reasons, really!

First, Magne starts to agree; something small and unobtrusive would be ideal, something that wouldn't necessarily get in the way of anything she had to do at work... She thumbs one of her fingers though, and another thought sinks in quickly, and she colors faintly across the face. No, he wouldn't just...

"Freudian slip?" she teases as she looks back at him, then back down at her hand, imagining the sort of ring she might eventually get. She's torn between the idea of something big and fancy, or something pretty and sleek that would match the rest and not pose a risk in an altercation. Hmmm.

César looks down as Magne thumbs her finger, and something about how her body language shifts makes his suggestion sink in for him as well. His own face colors a bit. There's faint embarrassment for a moment as he clears his throat, glances up to see her blushing too.

But he's still smiling, and his heart begins to pound as he reaches over to rest a hand over her left, thumbing her left ring finger. "Little bit. Ever since you asked could I stay."

He leans in closer with a smile, whisper, and loving gaze. "As a groom, I just need a tux. How could I ask you to be my bride before you knew your own personal style or had a chance to simply be yourself? And I wanted to wait until after things settled down at Velvet before discussing marriage. I knew you'd want to be on equal footing first, too."

Edited (I was talking about this to someone and realized to add a thing LMAO UH SORRY....) 2024-09-07 18:07 (UTC)

Magne looks down at their hands again, then back up at him, taking a steadying breath then offering a smile.

"You know I never imagined that I could ever have this, but...it didn't stop me from wondering what a wedding dress might look like for me. I used to worry that I would only end up looking like...well, that I wouldn't exactly be able to pull it off. But here, I don't think that's the case anymore. I don't think I want to wear white, though," she jokes. Just a small self-deprecating thing, considering that she hasn't exactly been a clean and pure person.

"I do want to try and pay for it just as much as you. We do this together, or not at all."

César takes her hand and doesn't interrupt as she speaking, although he gives it a supportive squeeze at the self-deprecating joke, and nods firmly at that last declaration. "We do this together. As partners. ... And no matter what color or style of dress you end up wearing, I'll cry the first moment I see you in it."

He takes the pendant gently from her then, hands over the box with the earrings still in it, and leans just that further forward so he can fasten it around her neck, the little magnets clicking together. César kisses her hair before he straightens back up, hands smoothing along the tops of her shoulders.

He hmms and considers. "... You know, both of us could wear engagement rings. It's not an uncommon practice in Argentina and many Nordic countries. And propose to each other separately once we choose the rings."

It's obvious by now he's been thinking about this, because his next suggestion also comes as easily. "Most Spanish speaking countries have two surnames, paternal and maternal, but not Argentina. So I only have my paternal, Salazar, like you only have Hikiishi. ... Usually wives replace their maternal surname with their partner's paternal surname and husbands keep both theirs... but what if we each append the other's surname to ours? As equal partners in every way."

The ends of the necklace click together neatly, and the moment she releases it to rest against her chest, she can't help the excited little giggle that bubbles up from her at the sight of it when she looks down. She's so pleased with the way it looks as it catches the light and sparkles along those etched curves.

With her hands resting on his forearms, she listens and nods. "It sounds a little bit like exchanging vows before the wedding ceremony even happens. It's very romantic," she says thoughtfully. "I don't know what I want to do about my name, though. My given name was the problem, and I don't really have a connection to my surname, after my parents left... What do you think? Is it something that you want tacked onto your name?"

César chuckles warmly at her giggle, pleasure coursing through him with how happy she is. "Mm, I got the length just right."

He brushes his thumbs against her skin. "I've always been a romantic at heart." César shrugs softly. "Honestly, so long as I end up married to you and keep my name in some fashion, I'm good. I'm pretty attached to mine. You could also keep your name. Whatever you want... tradition be damned. And you can change your mind later. I'm just spitballing."

Magne's fingers brush down the pendant, just admiring it for a moment longer, before looking back at him.

"Hm...perhaps we can keep our names for now, and make decisions on it later when there's paperwork to be filled out?"

God, she's so cute.

"Let it simmer in the back of the old brain a bit." César moves his hands so he can lazily drap his arms around her waist. "To be honest, I have a hard time remembering we're not already married."

She makes a small sound in agreement, and moves to rest her forearms against his shoulders as they come close together. "I know...I sometimes have to stop myself thinking of you that way. It hasn't been very long at all in the grand scheme of things, after all."

César nuzzles her nose with his. "My parents got married pretty quickly and had me soon after. Guess it's just a Salazar thing?"

Magne's forehead leans against his in response. "Apparently. With everything that you've told me about your mother though, I'd be very surprised if I lived up to her example."

César almost asks her if she wants kids, then and there. But there's too many unknowns to address until they can get access to the technology back on his earth. He makes note that he needs to write a letter to Mortanne, to see if he can get some answers.

Then he can ask. But he's marrying Magne regardless of her answer.

"The currents you swam against were so much stronger than what she dealt with. And yet, here you are. You're a strong, smart, independent woman with shrewd business sense and endless determination who loves me deeply and can read me like a book. If you aren't already living up to her example, she'd pull you up so you could stand beside her."

He kisses her and rests their foreheads together again, closing his eyes with a happy sigh.

Magne's hands run up his back and her thumbs stroke across the ridges of his shoulderblades.

"I'm lucky," she sighs just shy of his lips. "I'm a product of my environment and a really harsh one to boot. You never held that against me, though. I don't know how I got so lucky..."

Her hands going up his back and her breath on his lips sends a shiver up César's spine, and he's momentarily distracted. César grins stupid for a moment. A quick kiss before he speaks.

"You made your own luck when you saw me alone and lost in my own thoughts and brought me out of them to make me feel welcomed. You gave me back my confidence and the ability to feel joy. You're..." César swallows, blinking back tears. "The first person who saw me since I lost my parents, when I never thought anyone would ever again."

César squeezes her waist just a little tighter, a touch allowed to few others. "You went through hell fighting for your own survival, and sometimes you did terrible things... but given a real chance here, you chose to take care of me and so many others. Why would I hold it against you that you looked at your past and declared you wouldn't let it happen to anyone else?"

"I never in a million years would have expected this to come out of sitting and talking with you that day... You know me, I like to talk, to flirt, but you surprised me and took it to heart. I wanted to keep talking with you and to really get to know you. You didn't see anything but me, from the very beginning. You weren't...weren't scared or judgmental or just tolerating my presence until I left you alone again.

"I can't say for certain when I fell in love with you, because it feels like I have been for as long as we've known each other." She sniffs again, and leans her forehead against his cheek, one hand drawing back between them to rest on the other side of his chin. "I know who and what I am. I'm just...so happy that you do too."

Magne speaks about how much that first night meant to her, too, and César's heart fills and aches in equal measure. She gently cradles his face between her forehead and hand. With her heart and soul pouring out to him, César's own can't help but respond in kind.

When she says how happy she is, his lower lip trembles, and his arms go around her harder, one looping a bit higher on her back, closing his eyes tightly. "I will never make you feel anything besides loved and cherished for what and who you are ever again." What happened at Merrymeet will never be repeated. "Let's grow old and wrinkly together."

She chuckles wetly, sniffing then kissing his temple, then his cheek. "And if anything else happens, you will talk with me about it, right? Can't start on the path toward becoming the neighborhood grandparents without being able to talk."

César lets out a happy sigh at the kisses, then rests his head on her shoulder to lazily kiss her neck, letting out a sniff of his own. "Yes, I promise. Just try and stop me from talking to you now. And you'll do the same?"

He files away the neighborhood grandparents for later. Damnit. He really needs to ask what's possible. Maybe they can be more than just the village grandparents, although that sounds great, too.

Magne gently squeezes César's cheeks after drawing back enough to do so, then just leaves her hands there on his face with a warm smile and her makeup slightly smeared by the emotions of their talk.

"Come on, I need to clean up a little. Let's see if there's anything left downstairs that we can pilfer, hm?"

César lets a little laugh at his cheeks being pinched—it's familiar and silly. His smile mirrors hers. A moment where they don't need to speak and can simply be. But all moments pass, and this one does, too.

"I couldn't have come up with a better plan myself. Let's go."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Velvet, Ambrosia, and Silk

César rolled a 1 here

And Magne caught it immediately

WELP!!!! He's coming clean

Can't lie to your future wife

It is good he learned this lesson before he's her husband!!

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think this might be wrapping up soon?

Yeh wrap!

Woo, wrap!