Velvet, Ambrosia, and Silk

[sistermagnetic]

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.

Comments

[hate_gettin_older]

His head still feels half full of sparks and smoke and roaring flames as he makes for the door, the long muscles of his arms twitching as though wondering why they haven't started throwing blows yet.

When he looks up at Magne, it takes him a moment -- and a wrenching effort -- to actually see her, hear what she's asked him. It's going to take him a good few moments longer to do anything like smile.

"If you like."

[sistermagnetic]

Edgar feels so tense as she walks beside him that she can't help wondering if he's about to turn right back around and actually start throwing punches. Just to get him moving, she wraps one arm delicately around his back and nudges him toward the door, not speaking up just yet.

Out in the cool evening air however, she speaks quietly enough close to his ear that she can only hope Erik isn't listening in. Inadvertent eavesdropping is such a curse.

"If you ever have any problems here, you can come and talk with me, darling. I don't want to have to eject anyone if I don't have to so I'm glad you held your temper.

[hate_gettin_older]

He twitches when she touches him, then subsides, moving where she nudges him.

When she speaks, the smoke swirls into his head again, dark and choking. (Because of course it's him she's talking about, him who would be ejected if it turned into a fight. Not the vampire bastard, not the lying, bloodsucking, Front --)

"Thanks ever so," he says, and there's the smile he wanted, affable and false. "Lovely place you have. Fraid I won't be back, not while that one's welcome here."

[sistermagnetic]

She doesn't know how he's framed it in his mind, so she can't explain that it would apply to either of them, or possibly both. She won't tolerate bloodshed on her property if she could step in and deescalate before it came to that.

Likewise she knows nothing of Erik's history, only what they've talked about in his current life. If she knew what he had done to their dear Max in full, she might have the same outlook on the man that Edgar does.

She does seem that forced smile though, and it worries her just a bit. She removes her arm from him and gives him a polite bow, hands in front of her. "I understand, dear. I won't pry into your business, but I can at least assure you that he isn't going to be a permanent fixture while he still has his own business to conduct. Whether that sways you to come back is entirely up to you. Thank you for being here for the opening nonetheless."

[hate_gettin_older]

Her gentle courtesy almost undoes him. He's been angry before -- he spent nearly his whole life being angry more often than not -- but he's never felt like this, like the rage in him might actually burst his skin or erupt up his throat. The anger's always given him strength, moved him forward; now, instead, it's draining him like a fever, crumpling him like a fist.

He can feel his smile coming apart, and rather than try to talk he gives her a short nod and turns away, stumbling off down the street.

[maximumcake]

"Edgar! Wait!" Max comes tearing out into the street at a run, hands up in beckoning as he races to catch up to his friend.

"Please?"

[hate_gettin_older]

As Max catches up to him, Edgar turns with startling suddenness toward him, revealing a face white and drawn as though about to faint.

There's only a moment's view of that face, though, before he takes two steps to close the distance and lunges to grapple Max in a tight shaking hug, head down against his shoulder.

[maximumcake]

Max catches him in his arms and holds tight. He won't let Edgar fall, not ever.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I should have told you he was here."

[hate_gettin_older]

"The hell are you doing, man," he says into Max's shoulder, muffled by the fabric of his shirt, and then draws back enough to look into his face in a sort of numb horror. "What the hell are you doing, in there with him? Did you know he'd be there?"

[maximumcake]

The words stick in the back of his throat as he beholds the horror in Edgar's eyes. Is this going to be the end?

"I-I... I did. He's good friends with Magne and they both do the same kind of work so... y-yeah, I figured he would come."

Max suddenly grips onto Edgar tighter, his voice pitched high in desperation. "I know how that sounds but things are different now. He apologized to me, and I've forgiven him. We're talking again, just talking. He's trying to be better and I want that for him. Even after everything that happened he's... he's still important to me."

[hate_gettin_older]

"Everything that happened?" Edgar's voice is raw with disbelief and outrage, and with something like an echo of Max's own desperation. "That fuckin happened, like he was just there and had nothing to do with it. Like everything he fuckin did to you --"

He's not trying to pull away from Max's grip. On the contrary, he's holding on tighter himself, like at any moment he might try dragging him away by main force.

[maximumcake]

Max stands firm in place, hanging onto Edgar but not letting himself be moved.

"I mean everything. I don't..." One hand flits to the back of his neck. "I told you I don't hate him. I told you. He's acknowledged, to my face, what he did to me was wrong. I told him that if we talk from here on out it's my terms. He knows that. He agreed to it. This was my choice."

He can feel something like a scream trying to crawl up the back of his throat. How can he make Edgar understand? How?

"He's died for me. More than once. I even... saw it happen. I don't know how to put it in words you'll understand, but he's... he's family to me. That doesn't mean he's perfect, but I care about him. I still want him in my life. That's my choice, too."

[hate_gettin_older]

A deep groan comes out of Edgar as though dragged up his throat by a string. It isn't for theatrical effect; it's an involuntary sound of frustration and balked anger and pain.

"How?" It's barely a word at first, more a modulation of the anguished groan. "How do you not --"

(I should hate you, man. I don't but I should.)

One hand turns loose of Max, closes into a fist, opens again, rakes through his own hair and clutches a handful.

(I mean what does that fuckin make me, if I don't?)

"What he did," and the words come out slowly, struggling, "that doesn't go away."

[maximumcake]

Max closes his eyes, unable to bear both seeing and hearing Edgar's anguish. Is this wrong? Is he wrong for feeling this way? Doubt nips at his heels, and he can distantly feel himself trembling as if he's watching it from outside his own body.

"I know that." The trembling hardens into something else, something like anger but more desperate. "I'm not stupid! Just because I forgive him doesn't mean it didn't happen! But I don't want to spend the rest of my life being angry and scared. He's here. I'm here. We spent seven years together. It wasn't all bad and I don't want it to mean nothing. Why can't anyone understand? My life with him wasn't just nothing."

[hate_gettin_older]

"Cause it's not right!" Edgar's hands fly outward, turning loose of Max's shirt and his own hair, clutching for the right words. "Some rich bastard decides he fuckin owns you and he can just, just take you and do whatever the fuck he pleases, and no one where you come from tells him no he fuckin can't, no one's ever gonna make him pay for it, and that's not fuckin right, Max."

He draws a shaky breath in turn, his voice lowering. "I told him, day we met, how a friend of mine got hurt by a vampire. And you know what he said? He said sorry for your friend, but that's hardly my fault. Like he could never do anything like that. Like I was the nasty suspicious one for even thinking it."

[lordoftheozarks]

Erik meets Magne at the door when she returns, his face drawn in repentant sadness that leaks into his voice when he speaks, very low for only her to hear.

"I'm so sorry for this disturbance. Don't be too hard on that boy, he's not at fault. I'll explain everything, but I'd rather it be in private. I don't want to cause further harm to your business."

[sistermagnetic]

Magne looks thoughtful, and rather put out when she comes back inside to resume her duties as the hostess of the evening. She blinks at Erik speaking up to apologize, then glances back toward the door where her friend and assistant host have disappeared. She doubts that she's going to get Max back tonight, after that.

"As far as I'm concerned, he didn't raise a hand against anyone or break anything, so he's still welcome if he ever does decide to come back. I would like some context for all of that, though. There was a lot of bad history in all of that for all three of you." Her hands plant on her hips as she watches Erik in his remorse. "You haven't hurt anything, really. If he comes back around that'll be his prerogative. But...yes, if you do want to air out some things, best not to do it in the middle of a party."

[lordoftheozarks]

"Good." Erik answers with relief when Magne says Edgar won't be barred from entry. He still can't help but think it might be a lost cause on Edgar's part but he is glad to know his trust in her judgement is well-founded. It's about to be tested.

"The history is between me and Max. Lead the way, please. I'll tell you everything that is mine to tell. Whatever conclusion you come to, I will accept them."

[sistermagnetic]

Magne knows a hard situation when she sees one, and this is certainly complicated enough that she knows she can't just barge into it with the grace of a bull in a china shop. This requires a gentle hand with all parties involved, if she wants to avoid anyone's uneasy truces being broken.

With a small bow of her head, Magne starts toward the curtained doorway that leads upstairs toward her little home, only briefly stopping to let her bartender know to keep an eye on the place while she's gone. With the assurance that everything would be under their watchful eye, she continues upstairs.

It's a cozy affair that Erik will find himself in, warm lighting, broken-in furniture, drapery here and there and the wooden floor polished with only a nice little area rug breaking it up a bit, a low table and a few cushions arranged on the floor. A small shrine is set back into one wall, with drawings framed on the shelves, and a little plush and a figure placed nearly under a couple of the portraits. Magne passes this to go into her little kitchenette to prepare some tea to sip while they talked.

"Perhaps you can start with how this involves dear Max, since you said that was the crux of all this."

[lordoftheozarks]

The room is warm and cozy and yet some part of him feels like his entering it now despoils it. He's steeling himself for the worst. If she says go, he will without a word of protest.

"It involves him because, in the world we came from, I owned Max as a slave. In our vampire culture, he was referred to as a Human Pet. I'm sure you agree the difference is negligible." No point in mincing words. Better to get that brutal truth out in the open.

"The situation is complicated, and before all else I want you to know that I did what I did to save his life. But it is not hard to understand why that boy holds such anger against me, given what I've done."

[sistermagnetic]

Magne's expression noticeably darkens as Erik explains Max's position, but she bites her tongue. She said that she would listen to him, and she would keep that promise.

"What you've done," she repeats quietly, after she's settled herself down with a steaming pot of tea to pour into one of the small earthenware cups that she'd taken down from a cupboard. Her tone is even, and the set of her jaw is threatening in the way that coming face to face with a mother bear would be frightening. "Lord Osborne, if you tell me that you abused this man that trusted you with his life, you are going to have to make your arguments very quickly for why I should allow you on the premises or within a hundred meters of him."

[lordoftheozarks]

He expected this, but the way she's looking at him now... it still can't help but hurt. He owes her the truth, but he wants it to be with context. She may still decide, like Edgar, that it's not enough. He'll have to accept that if she does.

"I'll start by saying that it was Max's choice to allow me near him again. I am not invading his space against his wishes. I am also not, in any way, seeking to reclaim him. Now that we are away from the dangers of home, he is free and he will always be." Erik will rip the heart out of anyone who tries to change that himself, although he won't be the first in line. That honor goes to Valdis.

"My sister was also a vampire. She was, I am ashamed to say, an evil woman. One night, she attempted to take and eat Max. Through sheer dumb luck, Max was able to defend himself and kill her. In human law, this would be a non-issue, because it was in his own defense. In vampire law, it was another matter. A human had killed an Elder vampire of great influence. Retribution was expected. My sister's allies wanted his blood. But, because I was in the unique position of being her true next of kin, the claim of blood fell to me, first. To save his life, I enslaved him. I forced him to change his name, fake his death, and come live with me. He was to be under my watch for the rest of his natural life. If he ever left, or was caught alone, he might be killed by my sister's allies who still hunt him. I am not happy that I had to keep him a prisoner of circumstance, but there really was no other way to keep him safe."

[sistermagnetic]

Her lips purse. It's all very logical, as far as the rules he's given her have been presented her. So she has to ask, dangerously evenly, "And what aren't you telling me?"

[lordoftheozarks]

She wasn't bluffing about him needing to get to the point quick, was she?

"All right. When I tell you this, I want to be clear that I am not trying to excuse myself." Which is never a strong opener, he knows. Fine. Out with it.

"I did not understand at the time that what I did to Max was abusive. It was never my intention to do anything but take care of him as well as I knew how. But, with hindsight and a lot of self reflection, I understand now that I did abuse him. I am deeply ashamed of myself, and I have very much acknowledged and apologized to Max for that."

He lifts his eyes to meet hers and there is utter sincerity reflected in them, "I give you my word that I will never repeat those actions. Not to Max, nor to another person. It will not happen again."

[sistermagnetic]

While there is still anger there at the very idea that one of her best friends in the village had been used by the man before her and was so wronged that people had opted to turn their rage on his behalf toward Erik in full, she is still listening. She is, after all, in a unique position here. She understands doing terrible things without the understanding that they were terrible, and then doing worse things because it was what seemed necessary at the time. She understands overindulging in it, and even finding pleasure in it. She understands. There's a reason she was a fairly high-ranked villain in her time.

So she's angry, but she understands, and she's willing to give Erik the chance that he needs. Especially when he explains that Max himself had spoken with Erik, and come to an understanding. That they seemed to at least be on neutral terms.

"I just wish that one of you had told me that there was this sort of history between you, considering that you're both around and there are people here that know him," she sighs as she rubs her fingers up the bridge of her nose in irritation. "I'm sure that you understand that if any harm comes to him because of you that there will be a line of people looking to take your head. I won't stop them if it happens. But as long as you stay civil, I won't consider you a danger."