City of Shadows Mux City of Shadows Mux

Trust and Truths
Players Marigold, Sebastian	2022.08.18 Marigold meets with Sebastian, Satin's newest bartender.
There's work yet to do within the dual space that accommodates not just one club but two, and it is work that continues well into the evening hours. Not that it appears to be much /more/ work, as a barebones skeleton crew touches up paint here and there, finishes assembling furniture, and ensures the lighting is /just right/. It is clear the dream, that shared vision, is closer to becoming a reality. The workers, however, are not entirely alone as seated at the circular central bar that dominates the central landscape of Satin is a dark-haired woman dressed in an off-shoulder style deep green and gold maxi dress; her sandals kicked off as her bare feet cling to the bottom rung of her chosen stool. "No, I double-checked," she says as she drums her pen restlessly on the bartop, "I'm pretty sure I know how to count." There's no irritation to her tone, rather the opposite as her Bostonian accent comes across as amused, almost pleased about something. A few open boxes and piles of paperwork, shipping manifests, and invoices are scattered before her along the top of the bar. With a soft sigh, she shakes her head at whatever the person on the other end of the phone says and then laughs. "Marco, recheck it. Please. I promise it'll be worth your while if you just listen to what I'm saying and stop thinking about the bottom line." A beat as she shifts and turns on the bar stool toward the entrance. "I am the bottom line. Or rather, I am the bottom line you'd rather deal with." The entrance is likely getting frequent use as those workers come in and out, and squeezing past them is Sebastian with his long frame. Total strangers those passing laborers might be, he still gives them the sort of nod and smile you would an old friend you are excited to see. Once in the open space it's easier to see his casual but put together attire, form fitting dark designer jeans and dark brown leather chelsea style boots. A black short-sleeve linen button down is made even more informal by lying totally open, a very tight fitting white tank undershirt left exposed. Whether his friendliness was real or feigned with the workers, there is no mistaking it for anything but genuine as he lays his unusual colored eyes on Marigold. Dodging whatever work is being done with long, graceful strides, he makes his way towards her. That excited approach ends a respectful distance away as she speaks on the phone and he just gazes over the venue while trying to not make his interest in the nature of the call obvious. The right leg gets crossed over the left, the flowing skirt of that dress shifting along with it as Marigold nods and makes a non-commital sound to Marco at /something/ he says as her gaze flicks upward toward the ceiling of the club. There's no pause as she laughs, the sound almost sultry as she says, "I. Told. You. So." She smacks the palm of her pen holding hand down on the bar hard enough it rings out, causing a brief pause in a nearby worker, but she does not note it. What she notes as her dark eyes come back down from their heavenward gaze is Sebastian's approach. Oh, that grabs instantly at the woman as she half-listens to the man on the other end of the call, that warm and heavy weight of her eyes settling over that pale man as he approaches. "Something far more interesting's come up. I'll call you back later." Mari doesn't even wait to hear that reply as she ends the call and tosses her phone onto the bartop, her gaze still drinking in what she sees. "You must be," she flashes a grin there, "our newest family member. I'm Marigold." The hand that once held the phone gets extended to Sebastian then, a warmly given offer of welcome as that weight remains steady as that smile that curves her mouth. The loud smack coincides with Sebastian splitting his focus between her and observing the building of some furniture. He turns, of course, but it isn't surprised or rushed, a sign that he is, perhaps, not easily startled. A little smile splits his lips at being called interesting and he tilts his head in a showy display of thanks before walking closer to shake her hand. It is the practiced motion of an experienced bartender, neither to hard or to soft, and just long enough to convey a friendly respect. The sensation of his touch, however, is a tad unusual. Skin somewhat cool, it is refreshing and invigorating rather than off-putting. Seeming more than a little bit delighted at her use of 'family,' he nods, "I am...rechristened Bash yesterday, though, it would seem." Moving behind the bar as he speaks, just casually sorting any recently arrived bottles or items, "going to guess you are Marigold then?" Tone as playful as his expression, "fair warning, Andi said you were here for whatever money I needed." It's easy to catch that delight in Sebastian, which warms Marigold's expression further as she swivels on her stool, long legs uncrossing smoothly, to turn and face him as he slips behind the bar. "Our new bartender for Satin then," she says with a nod as those dark eyes continue to take him in, tracing over his face before she gives a final nod, pleased about something she must see therein. "Bash." His new name comes with a long pause and more careful consideration before she laughs and nods. "I like it." If surprise is expected about what Andi has told Sebastian, it doesn't come as a wide smile with a flash of pearly white teeth comes with more laughter as that dark head tips back with a shake to send silky strands dancing against bare shoulders. "Andi's got the right of it, though. Anything you need that requires money, come to me. I handle all the ordering and ensure we have everything to operate as a business." The way she says it makes it sound like the sky's the limit, no worries to be had for anything that may arise. "I also handle a few other things, but it's mostly the behind-the-scene things. This is Roman's baby and I just want to see it become everything he wants. And more." There's no mistaking the affection there, and that it isn't limited to just the dual clubs. She leans forward then, arms folding onto the bartop as she continues to idly flick that pen between her fingers. "So please, don't be shy to speak up if you feel we are lacking somewhere. Or if we need to re-order that scotch. The sooner I know, the sooner I can handle it." A small but joyous laugh escapes Sebastian's lips at her approval, "my name has any number of options and this was about the last one I expected." A bottle in hand, he curls his arm in a mock flex, one eyebrow raised provacatively, "might be the start of a change in lifestyle, you never know. Could lose me to downstairs." His easy smile returns as he continues sorting, "in all honesty, while I won't be throwing any punches I am good at stopping them from being thrown in the first place and taking care of those who do happen to take one. So, I am multi-purpose for everyone." A pleased sound emerges from his chest as he gazes over the still blossoming venue, "but I knew I was home in here the second I walked in. It's just about everything I wanted." Listening to her as he stays busy, he never goes long without making eye contact and letting her know she has his focus. "All sounds pretty routine." A brief pause and then his volume lowers, face remaining neutral, "place like this, I probably need some clarification on any...extracurriculars though. What is allowed and by whom, that sort of thing." "Satin. Savagery. It's two sides of the same coin, isn't it?" Marigold wonders as those dark eyes flick away to watch Sebastian as he works rather than continue to stare at him. She beats a steady rhythm with the blunted end of her pen now against the bartop, a little music to work by if somewhat limited in its scope. "You can work here or there, whatever calls to you. I won't limit anyone so long as it hurts nothing of ours." Her smile retains that friendly warmth to it as she rolls her shoulders and pushes to sit up straighter now. "If you ever want to swap places with Andi for a night, I won't be the one to tell you no." She'd let the Wolf and Bash handle that between themselves, so her expression says. The eye contact is always met; Marigold never fails to meet Sebastian's eyes when they go hunting for her own. His gaze is met with open curiosity and that dark, deep weight therein as she smiles at him, paying close attention to not just his words or his work but any tics or body language he exhibits. "As routine as a place like this can be. However, we're not looking to be like anything else here in Chicago. We desire this to be an experience that /lives/ within our patrons, our family. We want this to be where people come to /feel/ something. Anything. To belong." A hand lifts to brush her hair off one shoulder as she shifts her weight on the stool again, considering something as she does. "We don't push anyone to do anything they don't want to do. Never feel pressured. You can /always/ say no." Marigold's head tips to the side as her smile turns sultry, briefly, "As for extracurriculars, that can be dancing if you want it to be. It can be fucking, on your terms. We don't deal in drugs ourselves, and we try to make sure our family stays as safe and whole as possible. But again, I won't be the one telling you no when it comes to what you desire doing." Unless you make me, says her eyes. And it is a dark promise that glitters as she holds Sebastian's gaze, unwilling to let him go unless he looks away. All movement stops as he listens to her this time, Sebastian realizing that what is being discussed is worthy of even the slightest split in attention. It doesn't take any effort to do so, his face and demeanor reflecting both a growing ease and interest, the two merging until what is left appears as complete contentment. Smiling gently from his position just opposite her, he places two hands on the bar and leans forward, "you know, everyone here is very good with the speeches. Andi gave me one before leaving that made me want to give her the biggest hug imaginable, even if I walked away torn to shreds." That last comment hangs in the air for a moment, his assessing eyes firmly on her before he continues, "Andi and I are of a...similar type. We tend to value freedom and consent so I know my own limits and won't let mine or anyone else's be violated, you don't have to worry about that." There isn't steel in his voice necessarily, but a certainty and strength is present that might be surprising in what can usually be such a breezy demeanor. Tone softening as he turns his eyes towards everything around them, transitioning to something more thoughtful and even dreamy, "if I thought you all were just interested in money and excess, I wouldn't be here." Smiling with a touch of humility, "I can get a job no problem. This is a purpose, a calling. I'm guessing the decor invoking a Prohibition style atmosphere is no accident and that suits me just fine. Just like then, people are going to take that first little step into the illicit, something new and different. Maybe it is just for one night but maybe, just maybe, it resonates. That first barrier gets crossed and they tumble down into self-discovery." As he goes on, she might swear there is a literal twinkle of light periodically flashing in his eyes, the gray moving to something more overtly silver. "For others, they know who they are but the world outside has told them they should never be proud of it, let others see. More than just existing freely here, we can give them the strength to take all they do and are within these walls back into everyday life." By the end, he is positively beaming with hope and excitement and despite the torrent of almost zealous passion for what they could achieve, there is clearly so much more in there waiting to be uncovered. The slightest echo of that stillness is captured within Marigold as she listens carefully in turn to all Sebastian says. She lingers on his words as if he were the most crucial thing in the world set right before her, courteous nods sprinkled through the flow of his words that she dares not to break. Yet. His desire to hug Andi breaks Mari's composure and sends her smile upward again with another flash of teeth. "We are a passionate lot when you stoke the fire just right. Especially since this haven we are creating isn't meant for only us. Everyone deserves a home. To belong somewhere." A roll of her slim shoulders. "We've found where we belong." Marigold meets that assessing gaze as she has met every other look from him, holding it as a flickering flame of something decadent begins to kindle to life. "Freedom and consent are important things I'd deny no one." That pen stills briefly before it drums anew, finding another rhythm, slower this time, as the Serpent looks briefly away before saying, "Good. But you'll still be subject to living beneath the umbrella of my worry, my care. As I trust all the others, I trust you to care for yourself and those in our home." Money. It always seems to go back to that in the end, but the mention of it gets Marigold's smile to turn mischievous, if briefly, before it resettles into that generously dark warmth she exudes. Her posture shifts as she returns fully upright, her arms loosely draped on the bartop as she listens to Sebastian make a speech of his own. "Honestly, if it were money we were after, we'd be going the wrong way about it," she admits as that pen lifts and becomes a pointer as it bounces between her fingers as she motions toward him with it, the gesture lose and friendly rather than accusatory. "We want to leave an impression upon those who come here that they can find the decadent. They can find the untamed. They can mingle between two worlds and feel alive in what suits them best at that moment." Her smile pushes higher into those upper limits of glowing, that fire sparked and dancing in her dark gaze as she nods at something -- everything -- he says, "Exactly—all of that. See? You make for an excellent orator yourself. You /see/ the dream, the purpose. You belong here with us." It's confidently said in a rich purr that's all intense heat held back by a thin, fragile line of control. Ardor diminishing enough so that he isn't on the verge of another near sermon, Sebastian lets his heart rate slow and expression return to the default one of ease he seems to display most of the time. Not a trace of embarrassment present, even before she reinforces everything he feels. There is a subtle acknowledgement of her abilities, however. A knowing glance when any of her movements or tone veers towards the more seductive and alluring, dark passions being alluded to in a way that is sure to send many of the patrons into blushing stammers or excited sweat. His own expression in those moments seems to be saying, 'I see you and it is lovely but I'm no stranger to such things either.' Throughout, she has had his full attention but whatever thought begins to creep in forces a quick but unhurried check to see if any workers are in earshot. "All of that is both familiar and achievable." Smile shifting to the wry, "but I can make sure the money flows too. Artists and dreamers need their patrons, after all." Without taking his eyes away from her, he reaches into his pocket and retrieves something with two deft fingers. Pulling his hand back atop the bar, he soundlessly presses an Accord coin down against the wood. "Andi said you all were aware of her...background and nature but I still don't know to what extent." Any hint of playfulness and coyness gone in his voice and expression, sincerity pours from him as he adds, "if this is going to be a home filled with family, it feels wrong to keep so fundamental a secret." A tiger can no sooner change its stripes than Marigold deny what burns within her. Still, that subtle acknowledgment of being 'seen' doesn't send her into shy retraction. She is what she is, and the Serpent revels even in the simple acknowledgment of what she is--though no venture to break that control, to overstep this boundary between them is ever made. There's soft laughter, less purr and sultry, as it wends back toward friendly. "Making money won't be a horrible thing," she advises playfully with a narrowing of those glittering eyes. "We'll turn a profit in time, so measures to achieve it won't be discarded or left unheard. Artists and dreamers need patrons, yes. You sound like you have something in mind already?" A lofting of expressive brows comes there, her full attention settled upon Sebastian again. It's only when he reaches into his pocket does her frame stiffen up, no flicker of her eyes to leave his own. No, she'll hold and wait. She's patient, after all. Though, that mention of Andi and her background gets Mari's expression to soften into thoughtfulness as she nods. "I'm aware." Aware of what and how deep, doesn't come /yet/. It isn't Andi they are discussing right now, but that moon-haired man before her. Curiosity is a bitch, and eventually, it snags too hard and Mari has to look so her eyes slant down toward what Sebastian's laid out; that Accord coin gets a chuckle, soft and dark. "Andi's told me what she's comfortable telling. I'll never press for more than that from anyone who walks through these doors." 'Unless they make me. Unless I have no choice,' those unspoken words hanging heavy in her gaze as she fixes it upon Sebastian once more. The pen drops from her hand and comes to that coin, index and middle fingers pushing it back toward him. "I won't ask for you for more than /you/ want to give me. The courtesy is extended back in return, I hope." That gaze, so heavy and dark, never comes with judgement or demand. It comes open, that trust laid bare in Marigold's every expression. She shakes back her dark hair from her shoulders. "I can promise you that I will never harm what is family. I will never demand more than I am willing to give in kind. And I will always--always--protect that which is mine." The coin goes back into Sebastian's pocket as easily as it was pulled out, the action close enough to the retrieving of a tip that it's been practiced to many times to count. A faint sound of thoughtful consideration emerges from his chest while he observes. The assessing appears to be done, having come this far already. "this city is both exciting and anxiety inducing. People like me tend to only associate with each other from everything I've seen. There are reasons for our cautiousness which Andi might have said or alluded to but add in everything else freely mixing in this town and it could be overwhelming." An eyebrow raising ever so slightly, he grins, "but right or wrong, I try to focus more on the exciting and all the potential it could bring." A momentary pursing of the lips and he nods, more to himself than her, "we aren't alone here and it is a...flashy display if I show you what I really look like. But, I'm comfortable with it." Still grinning a tad, "I won't lie, finding out what everyone else might be is a bit of a motivation but it is just going to be exhausting talking about how to make money or how I can help with so many things if I have to constantly think of euphemisms." For the first time, Marigold turns and looks away from Sebastian, presenting him with her profile as she casts her dark eyes out into the club toward the stage where part of that skeleton crew works for the moment. Her tongue runs along the edge of her teeth before she says, slowly, "I know what it means to be hunted. To have someone--something--determined to drag you back into something you thought you escaped." A beat. "Or worse." Her tone has no fear but a resolute determination to avoid that fate. Another slow roll of her shoulders as she turns once more to give him back the full dark weight of her eyes. "Yes, Andi has shared much about that part of herself with me." A tiny flicker of a smile comes then, the corners of her mouth turning upward as she nods. "It is best to focus on those aspects, to not dwell too long or hard on the other parts." And while they aren't alone, something that never seems far from Mari's thoughts despite how her focus narrows in on Sebastian again and again, turning him into that lone star in her night sky, she doesn't seem worried. Another bubble of soft laughter rises forth from her as she reaches for that discarded pen, perhaps needing something to ground herself on. "You don't have to show me," she offers though her words carry a sprinkling of curiosity, an outright 'no' not implied. "I don't want you to ever do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable. Not that I believe for an instant that you need me to /tell/ you that." As for herself? The Serpent remains silent about the 'what,' allowing Sebastian instead to remain that focus of attention. There's time yet for revelations, and Mari isn't one to hurry through another doorway when she's content lingering in the one she currently resides. When she offers that vague but clearly shared aspect of her past, it is perhaps not hard to see why Sebastian would do well in his chosen profession. Eyes softening, a subtle frown, it is sympathy without crossing over into condescension. Appearance alone might be enough but the real secret is his complete earnest sincerity. No matter how hard she or anyone else might look, this reflexive reaction from him will never read as anything but genuine. It fades to some degree but not entirely, an indication that he will be dwelling on whatever she faced going forward. A flicker of a glance towards her pen precedes, "I'm not uncomfortable. Normally it would be an extreme display of trust but here? Seems more diminished." A slight shrug of the shoulder as he leans in further, a small extra precaution over being heard, "besides, I start bringing people downstairs back from the brink of death, toying with desire up here, and having visions of the past and future everywhere else...I'm pretty sure you all would figure out something extra was going on." The lightness in his tone diminishes enough to give the impression of honesty, "we all feel differently about this topic, anyway. My...philosophy, is more one of acceptance." "We've established ourselves are far more forthcoming than most, haven't we?" Marigold muses with a soft chuckle as she looks down at her pen now, studying the thin plastic thing with feigned interest. "I think it is because we want to be open with those we bring in, make family. No secret needs to be hidden, but no secret need be shared." A slow drumming with the pen pauses her words. "Unless it will affect us all, that is. So, some things are better said sooner rather than later." Mari slips from that stool then, her bare feet making no sound on that plush carpeting as she makes her way around the bar. For some reason having the bar between them was something she deemed 'in the way.' She comes to stand a few feet away from Sebastian, not looking to crowd him there behind the bar as she studies him openly again. "You don't have to show me, but I thank you for being so willing to do so," she starts softly, her words not needing to be loud to carry between them in such a shared space, "but understand my hesitation. Not everyone wishes to know the truth of things. Not everyone can accept." There's a smile there, an acknowledgment of what he said just moments ago. That weight remains heavy in her dark eyes, that flickering flame banked for it never died. There's a soft hitch of breath so unnecessary, but Mari's been playing at life tonight as she shivers and then fixes Sebastian with a tooth-filled smile that allows him to see those wicked canines of hers, those fangs. "I am what I am. A creature of shadow and hunger," she says with no remorse, no desire to hide the truth of her nature. With another run of her tongue along those fangs, she looks away, smiling. "And I revel in it." A tilt of the head and a smile, Sebastian acknowledges her comment, "it's refreshing. I hid for a very long time. Before I became this, even. It's not a way of living I want to return to or be surrounded by." He stays leaning against the bar, at first, while she makes her way around and towards him, head turning to just slowly following the path with barely concealed anticipation. "Discretion is always used. A glimpse at our true selves is overwhelming in and of itself but then the mind starts turning to what all else has been hidden and might be lying in wait out there. It's not something I would do lightly or for selfish reasons." Starting to turn once she is just about upon him, he smiles softly down at her, "you didn't strike me as a fragile creature, though. So, I think we are safe." How true that description of her is only becomes more apparent as truth is revealed. It seems he could have been describing himself just as well. There is no shock or dismay, no inevitable thoughts of morality. Curious excitement dominates his features, a hand just barely making a move as if wanting to touch one of the exposed fangs. But before she looks away there is something close to that empathetic sympathy he showered on her just a few moments ago. Muttering softly, "there is hunger in this place...more visceral and obvious downstairs but no less present up here..." A few thoughtful moments pass and then he offers his usual soothing smile, "it is misery denying what you are. Some secrets are not mine to share but the sort of...like minded members of my community try to get people to realize how wrong repression is inevitably going to go. Whatever you are afraid of letting out only builds until a certain explosion." Head tilting, "is it something similar for you? In this place you've made, you get to dwell comfortably in what you are, all your impulses. Others might not see it but it is a kind of balance, maybe?" A rose has its thorns; Marigold has her fangs, and they suit her in every measure. After another moment, a final run of her tongue is made along those sharper parts of being, they retreat from sight, and she's all warm, sultry smiles once more. "It is misery refusing to be what you are meant to be," she agrees as she leans against the bar in a companionable sprawl, arms draped outward to prop herself up as she regards him curiously. "I see little reason to be miserable, particularly since I've been gifted everything I could ever want and more. Though, 'gifted' is possibly the wrong word for it." A soft furrow of her brow comes there as she sinks into inner thought, drifting away from the here and now to recall something. It's brief, but she listens all the while. It takes Mari a moment to rise with the answer she sought, but it comes brief, quick, with no hesitation: "No." And for a moment, no elaboration to that sentence comes; she draws a reflexive breath as that smile quirks. "I don't seek to hide what I am, to recoil from it," she explains as she looks back to Sebastian again, studying his features with that open-ended curiosity. That hair, the color of his eyes, and right down to the shape of his jaw, nothing escapes Marigold's scrutinizing gaze. "Maybe it is a balance, but in honesty, I would be who -- what -- I am no matter if this place didn't exist." It's honest, rawly so. "I am a monster in the garden, watching and waiting. I don't seek to be cruel for no purpose, for there's always a purpose. I simply don't seek to hide what I am." Her mouth twists there as she pushes off the bar, the faint bzzt of her phone heard as it vibrates against the bar. "But if in this place a balance can be struck and found? That makes me happy. Let our patrons find it. Let our family be it." She slips away from the bar and rounds back out to pick up her phone, eyes scanning across the message she received. There's a chuckle, and a breathed out "Dammit, Marco" before she looks back to Sebastian. "I'm glad you are here, Bash. We all are." She gives her phone a waggle as she says, apologetically, "I've got to take this. You going to be okay for a bit while I tend to matters?" Every word and movement from her is visibly cementing itself inside Sebastian's mind, a moment he is not going to forget, even if he were capable of doing so. He observes that reverie, holding on to it while the call pulls her regretfully away. A reassuring smile and a nod, "I'm going to be perfect." A brief hesitation and then he adds before she puts the phone back up to her ear, "I don't think you are a monster, Marigold. A predator, yes. But monsters don't regulate themselves this way." Eyes practically glowing with earnestness again, "I won't begin to understand your hunger but we both could only have gotten here by passing through a crucible. Rebirth is romantic and all but births do involve a lot of blood and screaming." A shrug and that winning smile, "if you ever want to talk about yours, I'm here."