[Cally's] You're the good one, right?

[Faith Augustin]

51st Ashan 717

Cally's Restaurant was ready, she was sure that she had not missed anything at all and Faith could not be more pleased with everything. There was only one thing left, in fact, on her list and that was to find someone to provide elegant, appropriate and sophisticated entertainment. So, she had put out notices both via the Merchants' Guild and word of mouth. She knew that the Market Square in the middle of town was a place where performers and entertainers often congregated, so she'd asked Caz and put up notices in the Scholars' Nook and also made sure to mention to the stall owners, too.

Following that, some applications had come in and Faith had put aside this trial to meet people, discuss the job and so on. By this point in the trial she was really starting to wish that she hadn't because she had a thumping headache from listening to some of the worst musical renditions of garbled noise she had ever heard. The people of Scalvoris were wonderfully diverse, Faith believed that with total conviction but by every Immortal there was, they made some strange noises with musical instruments.

She just wanted to find someone who could play gentle, quiet music, not overpower the place with loud pipes or leap on tables to impress folks. No, that was not her wish at all.

Still, it was not fair in any way to approach the last person she'd arranged to meet with any less enthusiasm than the first so, as the bell tinkled over the door to the restaurant which she owned, Faith looked up and smiled. "Hello! Welcome to Cally's Restaurant. It's a pleasure to meet you." Standing, the short human woman was five foot four and she offered a hand to shake. Faith had jet black hair and pale skin but her most unusual feature was undoubtedly her eyes, pale to the point of silver as they looked at their next potential employee.

"I'm Faith. Come on in and take a seat. Can I offer you a drink?" There was a jug of water there if Pash wanted any. If so, Faith would happily pour the glass and would not start to ask questions until Pash was in, sat and settled. "So, you saw the flyer, I'm looking for someone to work in the evenings, provide entertainment that is both subtle and sophisticated. Can you fit that bill?" That was what Faith said. What she wanted to do was ask Pash if he was the good one. Immortals, but she hoped he was.

[Pash Raj'oriq]

Pash had spent enough time around town by now that he could pretty well navigate the streets, especially since he’d taken some time to get to know some people in it. While he wasn’t one to rig himself to details or anchor himself to a calendar when it came to how long he planned to stay, he did feel like it was probably about time to stumble into a reliable source of income instead of simply busking for whatever change folks had in their pockets as an afterthought.

The Biqaj hadn’t seen the flyers looking for musical entertainment at Callie’s, honestly, not because he was illiterate so much as more focused on experiences and people instead of pages and books. A few other musicians had mentioned taverns and establishments looking for regular talent of his kind and offering decent coin, kind folk he’d gotten to know playing together in the Square or frequenting the same watering holes after sunset.

Word of mouth was a good thing, and Pash wasn’t about to waste the recommendation. He was even responsible enough to wash, mostly button his shirt, and actually wear his sandals in order to meet with a potential employer. His lute was polished and slung over one shoulder, and his sun-kissed hair was pulled back in a way that did not at all hide the racial shape of his ears from view.

Ignorant of the skills (or musical preferences) of his predecessors as well as his number in the audition line of sorts, Pash found his way to the restaurant and let himself in. The door chime was a nice touch, and the interior revealed a cozy place that was on a much different entertainment level than some seedy dockside tavern. That was already nice, too. The Biqaj was never one to suffer from being nervous, his silver blood full of that seafaring bravado his people were well known for. So as his lagoon blue eyes adjusted to the difference in light, warming in hue to a pleasing emerald green when he met the surprisingly pale but bright eyes of his (much shorter) potential employer, his smile was entirely genuine,

”Thank you—th’pleasure’s mine.” The hand that shook hers with firm enthusiasm was calloused from growing up a shipwright’s son and his Common was heavily accented with his more familiar Rakahi, ”Pash Vy’Ryn.”

He shrugged off his lute to fluidly take the seat he was offered, agreeing to the glass of water with a nod, ”Aye, please … an’ no, I m’self didn’t see a flyer ‘f yours, but I had a few kind folks in th’Square let me know y’were lookin’.”

Sophisticated was a big word to fill with sound. And perhaps not a word the seafaring musician had ever heard used to describe his music or depth of talent. Pash’s auditory influences were varied like his travels and his preferences changed with the tide sometimes. But, taking a moment to glance around the restaurant, fingers toying with the handmade silk strap of his instrument, he kept his smile and offered his response with his typical confidence,

“Aye, let me guess … A bit’o quiet background music t’a good meal an’ conversation—is that what you’re thinkin’?” Pash paused to take a drink of what had been poured for him, expectant to be asked to play by Faith in some form of audition, though he waited to be invited to do so. He set the glass back down and let his hands settle more purposefully on the mother-of-pearl inlaid body of his lute with comfortable familiarity, “I can play some o’that, indeed. Evenin's'll do for me, though hopefully you're no' set on someone like me bein' exclusive. Well, uh, before all that business talk, did y’want t’hear somethin’?”

[Faith Augustin]

"Pash. The pleasure's mine." At least, she considered with a smile, he'd washed and mostly buttoned up his shirt. The short young woman understood the theory of running a business well, but that was what she understood. The reality of it was a lot more complex and somehow, the theory didn't quite cut it. Yet, she was a determined and downright stubborn individual and she had a very clear vision of what this place would be.

And it would be a place with music.

So, the flyer hadn't worked for him, but the word of mouth in the Square had? Faith nodded her head. "Well, I'm grateful to those who told you, then." She was a regular in the marketplace and this place and what it did, the fact that it was a high end, expensive restaurant which was a source of income for a charity which benefited the poorest of Scalvoris Town was quite well known, but Faith knew that it was important to be clear from the word go.

He spoke of what he saw as her need for the restaurant and she nodded. "That is exactly what I am looking for, yes." He was keen to play and his hands moved naturally to the strap of the lute he held, which Faith saw as a good sign. "Please, that would be lovely." Once he had played, they could talk about time and so on, once he had played they could discuss the philosophy of the place.

Until he had played, she didn't know if there was a point, after all.

She watched him, as well as listening to him. How did he hold himself, how did he hold the instrument? Faith had seen a number of musicians today and she had come to the conclusion that she needed someone who could look the part, not just play music. It was his job to blend in, be professional. It was a lot she was asking, she knew and Faith gave him a smile and waited to hear what he had to offer.

Please, blessed Famula, let him not murder this.

[Pash Raj'oriq]

"She was a produce vendor, if’n I remember right." Pash offered, assuming that perhaps Faith had purchased from her in the past for her restaurant. He shifted a bit in his seat, crossing one sandaled foot over his knee and settling into a comfortable, unassuming position in which to play at her welcome invitation.

For the seafaring musician to blend into the background would require some self-control on his part. To say that he enjoyed attention was a bit of an understatement, and the curbing of his natural appetite for being the central object of interest when performing was a challenge to his usual playing habits. It would be an exercise in discipline to focus on his music without fully engaging himself with his audience. Turning inward was not impossible, but a much slower, more difficult of a personal exercise for him.

So Pash let his lagoon blue gaze shift away from Faith’s pale eyes, choosing instead to look down at his lute for a few trills, strumming a few chords softly as if to make sure he'd tuned his instrument one more time. Then, once satisfied, his calloused fingers moved naturally, strumming to a rhythm that was slow and even. He pictured quiet conversation and a pleasant meal, letting that sort of vision be his mental guide for the music he more or less made up on the fly for Callie’s proprietor. Like most of his own creation, the tones were warm and somehow breezy like a day on the beach, as if it was impossible to remove the influence of the sea from all that the Biqaj did.

He only played for a few bits before looking back up with an eager sort of grin, fingers slowing before his inked arms came to a rest in a comfortable embrace of his well-loved old lute. It was nothing, really, just a short little something like he’d play to warm up only with the kind of abstract ambiance he hoped Faith was looking for,

“Was that somethin’ like y’had in mind?”

[Faith Augustin]

He started to play and Faith resisted the urge to cheer. His musical ability was such that he could play something which was pleasant and subtle. He didn't jump on the table and he made it more than three bits without making a pass at her. All in all, the young woman considered as she listened with an appreciative smile on her face, she had fairly easy standards to meet, all things considered. Or, one would have thought she did. Still, this man seemed promising and Faith took the time to just listen to him, listen to how he sounded.

He stopped and asked if it was what she had in mind and she nodded her head. "It was, yes. That was very much the sort of thing I'm looking for." Sitting back, Faith folded her hands together, pressing the pads of her fingers against each other as she paused for a moment before speaking. "I feel it is important to let you know what it is I'm doing here. I want us all to be rowing in the same direction, fundamentally." She gestured around the restaurant, it was obvious that a lot of money had been put into it.

"I bought this place, and land outside of town. On the land we grow produce for the restaurant. I will serve exquisite food at high prices. The point of this place is to make money, it is a business. However, what separates us from other businesses is what will be done with that money." Faith had spoken in a friendly but reserved manner up until this point, however her passion for what she was doing shone as she spoke and explained this further.

"Cally's is part of a wider agenda. I will reinvest the profit, because what we are doing is offering a chance to people who are homeless or impoverished. Learning to farm the land and grow their own crops, to cook their own food. Eventually to make wine or farm cattle. Additional employees whose payment will be accommodation, education and training for a length of time, at which time they leave and a new individual takes their place." Her silver eyes shone with determination and her face showed that she was absolutely adamant.

"Whilst they are here, they will have good food and medical care. When we are running at maximum, the profits will go to other charities, either established ones or those I start because they are needed. I want the well off people of Scalvoris to come here, to pay money and feel good that they have done so and also to be sure that they got value for that money. Then I'm going to use it to make people's lives better." Faith looked at Pash and smiled.

"If you want to be paid on a night by night basis, you can, or I can offer you a regular job. Neither of those is exclusive, I don't mind what you do if you aren't working. But if you've committed to work, I need to know you will be here." She sat back and waited to see what he thought, if he was interested. If he was then the job would be his, she knew. But first, he might have questions, that kind of thing. It was more than reasonable if he did, so Faith waited to see.

[Pash Raj'oriq]

The specific kind of altruism that Pash was used to in his life mostly revolved around buying rounds of drinks for an audience or playing a particular song for some children in the street. Not that the shipwright’s son was incapable of thinking on the scale that Faith was describing as her vision for her business and its future so much as he'd never really tried. His world was much smaller, it seemed. His life was his, mostly, and his hedonistic tendencies were a self-centered prism through which the light of his generous potential was most often filtered. It would have been an excuse to declare it only immaturity, for he was well enough into adulthood that his personal choices were definitely just that—his.

He listened, though, with an undisguised curiosity, somewhat surprised that anyone really desired to think along such a broad avenue with their affections for those in need. His tidepool hued eyes faded, darkening like stormy seas in his effort to think through and process the depth of this small woman’s unselfish ambitions.

All he wanted to do was play some good music for some coin.

Clearly there was a bigger picture he had never in his twenty five arcs bothered involving himself in, and seasons at sea only made his inward-facing traits more prominent, not less. Despite this, Pash was not cold-hearted in the least, quite the opposite, really. Always curious to entangle himself in the needs of others through feelings, the kind of generosity Faith was laying on the table between them like so many cards was as fascinating as it was inflammatory to his small, quiet conscience.

“Oh.”

The Biqaj musician managed at first, just a sound really from his throat meant as an acknowledgement that he heard her plans. Shifting in his seat to lean a little forward, resting on the polished body of his lute so his tattooed arms hung over it and calloused fingers curled into the old wood, he smiled in a wry sort of way as if to mask the internal discomfort of feeling completely out of touch with a reality much greater than himself. He didn't feel guilty, per se, but the curiosity her words dredged from the depths of his thoughts were thick and heavy instead of light and airy, especially considering his last act of personal altruism had included alcohol and Empathy magic to convince someone to smile and dance and have a good time, among other things,

“What an ambitious plan for this place … there’s always folks in need, an’ even my da would say it’s better to teach someone to do somethin’ than jus’ to do’t for ‘em. That’s quite the plan, indeed, an’ one I don't have ‘n issue supportin’—”

Who would? He knew there were plenty who devoured the weak without a shred of guilt and saw the world as theirs for the consuming, but Pash was not one of those people, either, and he hoped he had a heart pure enough never to become one,

“—though I'll admit I don't much play for rich folks. I have, I s’pose, here’n’there, but hopefully I’ve grown a bit since then an’ maybe my music’s alright. So if y’think I can fit in wi’that sorta’ crowd, I’d be more’n happy to play for you.”

Humbled a little, his expression turned shy, “It’s been a few arcs since I’ve held somethin’ like a regular job, I’m certainly more used to findin’ places sorta’ on a whim to play wher’ver the wind blows me, y’know? I tend to travel a lot, but I’ve been a lil’ inspired here an’ see myself stickin’ ‘round a few seasons, a’least. I leave it up t’you whether y’want me on th’regular ‘r a nightly basis, ‘cause if I can still play elsewhere on occasion, I don’ mind either way. A little variety seems good for me, musically speakin’.”

Plus, he’d probably have to purchase something nice to wear.

“Other’n’that—how many trials a week would y’want someone playin’? How many breaks a night, an’ would you be lookin’ for a set an’ a pause or jus’ continuous playin’ for th’evenin’? Y’know, jus’ stuff for me to plan, should you hire me.”

[Faith Augustin]

On the first of Saun, Faith would be 19 arcs old. She was a passionate and driven individual who, whilst still a teenager had never experienced a childhood. Others may see that as a bad thing, she knew people who did, but she most certainly did not. She had spent the first eighteen arcs of her life in service and it had prepared her for this. This ability to take on enormous tasks and do so in full and complete determination of success.

She wanted to serve, it was as simple as that.

Over time, her understanding of the world had changed and Faith had come to a simple conclusion. She wished to be judged by what she did, not by what she said. She believed that there were things that she could do now which had been unavailable to her as options for the previous eighteen arcs. Now, she was free. So, she looked at Pash as he said 'Oh', and she smiled. Would he think this such a silly idea by a young girl that it was doomed to fail? Did he think her foolish for trying it? Maybe, but then maybe not and she waited to hear his answer.

He had no issue with supporting what she was trying to do and Faith could not hide the relief in her face as he said that. "I'm pleased." She could only agree that helping someone learn a skill and giving them an opportunity to work meant that they could, hopefully, retain a sense of personal autonomy and dignity. She had ambition, there was no doubting it, but it was an ambition to do good.

"That is good news! Welcome to the team." Faith smiled in delight. This was the right decision, she was sure of it. "In terms of, well, terms. I've written up a suggestion. My preference would be that it is a regular deal, although I certainly wouldn't expect you to work every trial. Have a look." She had small, neat handwriting and had indeed written up what she envisioned. Three night working, one night not and the shifts themselves were for five hours, from seven till midnight, with a break and a meal in there. The meal was provided by the house but was decided on the night by the chef. It went on to explain that he could "save up" nights off, or work three, take off two and then work three before starting that again, with the agreement of the owner.

The only thing which wasn't covered in the terms she had prepared was his last question and to that, Faith gave a slight shrug. "I would like you to do what you feel is best. Don't tell me how to cook, I won't tell you how to play. Fair?" Her smile was friendly and she explained. "The way I see it, you're the musician. Some nights, you might change things, because you get a sense from the clients who come in. As long as I'm not getting complaints, and preferably compliments, then I'm happy." It most certainly wasn't her job to tell him how to do his. Not as far as she saw it.

"Are you happy with those terms?" If he was, she'd ask him to sign them and she'd do the same. If not, she'd discuss with him. Either way, once done, she offered her hand to shake and the pleasure on her face was genuine, her excitement making her seem to be the age she was. "Welcome to Cally's, Pash. I'm looking forward to working with you."

[Pash Raj'oriq]

“If someone’s feedin’ me, far be ‘t from me to be tellin’ ‘em how to cook. That’ll never happen,” Pash laughed, raising his inked arms from his lute to hold his hands up defensively for a moment. No, he was certainly not one to order anyone about in a kitchen, let alone complain over a free meal. Faith was feeding people with far more station in life than he ever aspired to, so whatever the chef wanted, the chef could do. He appreciated her returned kindness, however, grateful that she was appreciative of his sensitivities to his audience and willing to trust in his skills as a musician, though what that really meant was that he had to live up to such a level of trust, "An' thank you for the creative space."

Callie’s was clearly not some rowdy tavern after a few rounds of drinks.

The shipwright’s son would have to actually learn his new audience, which was, truth be told, somewhat exciting, especially to his more magical senses. It could prove an interesting venue to study as well as play in, though he reminded himself it was a commitment and not just a game.

His tidepool gaze shifted from Faith’s silver hues to the paper she handed him. Her handwriting was small, but neat, and Pash was thankful for its legibility as his strengths were not at all literary in nature, especially in Common. Three nights on, one night off was alright, and it left him his days to do as he pleased. He also had his freedom to arrange something different when needed, which was a generous offer if he hoped to do any exploring or visiting of other places on the Island,

“Th’schedule works for me, thank y’much. I look forward to helpin’ make sure folks have an enjoyable dinin’ experience here for you an’, honestly, more so for helpin’ out wi’your good intentions. While I don’ plan on gettin’ any complaints, I’ll do m’best to stay out ‘f the spotlight regardless.” The seafaring musician chuckled, waxing coy in his bravado, though he was far from mastering his auditory craft, “M’only request’d be for a trial before ‘n after Ilaren’s Trial, as I, uh, plan on participatin’ an’ wouldn't want to show up here unpresentable—”

Pash didn't flinch about his slight euphemism. He wanted to be honest, as there was no reason to hide who he was or where his devotions laid, even if those devotions more often than not mingled themselves with vices.

”That said, I’m happy to work extra trials before ‘t without any nights off to make up for that time, if that’d b’agreeable t’you.” He was happy to take her hand in his sea-worn, calloused one with a firm shake and a warm smile if she was okay with his more immediate request, ready to sign where he needed to or anything else required. Her enthusiasm was encouraging, contagious, and bright enough across her youthful features that he did not need his Empathetic sight to see it filling the room in its color.

He thought of asking what he should wear or to see the restaurant and where he'd be playing, but waited on the younger woman’s queue.

[Faith Augustin]

The trials either side of, and Ilaren's trial? Faith smiled and nodded. "That will be fine, we'll work it out with your shifts." When she shook his hand, which she did with a firm gesture, he might notice that her hands were quite different than the rest of her. Faith wore very little or no make up, the only adornment she had on her clothing was a small brooch, silver in design with a translucent stone set in it. Inside the stone was a small, perfect fern which was impossibly tiny. Other than that, she wore no jewelry and her clothes were well made and comfortable. Yet her wrist had a tattoo and her nails were long and sharp and painted in a black design, which seemed incongruous with the rest of her.

The administration all arranged, Faith picked up the parchment with both their signatures on, gave one to him and kept the other, both of which were the same. That way, though, there was clarity between them and both of them had proof. "I'll show you around, if you like?"

Cally's had been something which she had dreamed of a lifetime ago, it seemed and as she showed him the layout of the tables, where he would sit and she explained that he'd have his chair and a small table next to him. She'd task the waiting staff to keep the table stocked with a jug of water and a supply of snacks. Then, she took him into the kitchens which were gleaming clean and well organised. "I've also employed an alchemist. My aim," she explained as she showed him around, "is to make this a full experience. We're working on creating tiny spheres of concentrated liquid which can be dropped into drinks or on other food. Like caviar, but an explosion of liquid when you bite them. Eventually, there will be all sorts of things like that which will make this place unique."

That Faith was a driven individual there was no doubting. After they'd seen the kitchen, she took him to the place where he'd be. "Is this acceptable?" It was comfortable, near a window and close enough to the fire that he'd be warm in winter, cooler in summer. After all, if her staff were happy they gave their best and, if they gave their best, that was all she could ask.

[Pash Raj'oriq]

Pash’s tidepool gaze indeed traveled to Faith’s hand when she shook his, if only because it was a somewhat natural thing to do. While the younger woman was dressed in such a way that wouldn’t normally draw attention to herself, say, on the street, the observant minstrel could only guess that her hands were something she valued in whatever work she did besides own and run a restaurant to adorn them in such a way that they stood out.

The Biqaj wore no jewelry at all, more out of past preference from his youth as a shipwright’s son than out of a lack of desire to stand out in a crowd. That said, he didn’t really dress with flair either, though his choice in clothing reflected a knowledge of fabric quality and a preference for utility over fashion—he was aware enough of his good looks that he didn’t feel the need to make a statement beyond what was necessary. Or something like that. Anyway. Then again, both of his arms from wrist to elbow were covered in inked patterns that were somewhat organic and somewhat geometric, abstract but pleasing to look at. While they may have had a personal meaning, they were more decoration than anything intellectual, and they certainly weren’t a gift from Immortals; no, he’d spent his own nel on it all over time.

When Faith offered to show him around, he happily agreed, eager to get a feel for the place and to see his spot in the dining area from which he’d be playing, “Aye, please.”

Alchemy. For food. This place was so far above his head, but at least Pash smiled and listened to her ideas with an interested look on his face instead of something incredulous or amused. Caviar was a fancy word for fish eggs … which were tasty but escaped the Biqaj’s understanding as to why such things were so prized by those with more nel than himself. He’d always assumed it was simply because they were too lazy to get it themselves, unlike himself, who’d grown up enjoying whatever was fresh from the sea when a cousin or one of his siblings came home from fishing in it. Still, the culinary experience that Faith was planning sounded interesting to Pash, who had enjoyed new things and was far too curious for his own good,

“That’ll definitely make a mark ‘round here, eh? Sounds like you’ve got quite a few ideas for this place an’ I’d never think o’ half that. Then again, I jus’ like t’ eat … an’ my ma always told me an empty stomach can’t be picky until it’s mostly full.” He laughed, but it was a quiet, self-deprecating chuckle for the joke was mostly on himself, ”Lil’ spheres o’ liquid would be useful for travelin’, y’know. If they’d store well, that is.”

She led him to where he’d be playing as well, which was near a window and just within the glow of the fire. Pash took a moment to stand where the seat was and look around the room. He’d be mostly unobtrusive to the diners, present but certainly not at all center stage. It would be a different experience than he was used to, to be sure, but not necessarily an unwelcome one.

Sliding his lute from his shoulder, he paused to strum a few chords and listen to how his notes traveled the space, taking into the account that conversations would most likely be quiet and the atmosphere muted than a tavern in full swing.

Satisfied with the acoustics, he looked back to Faith and smiled warmly, “Aye, it’s a good spot for m’self an’ for your patrons to hear me from.” His acceptance was simple. This was probably the most formal employment he’d ever sought and accepted, considering his wayfaring sort of lifestyle. While he didn’t feel the change was permanent, he felt a bit of stability was a good thing for once … hoping the quiet compared to a bar full of drunks would allow for a different kind of learning experience. The slimer chances a fight breaking out seemed like a comfortable change as well, though Pash wasn’t convinced that the wealthy didn’t find avenues for violence elsewhere.

Calloused fingers reached up to tuck a few stray strands of hair behind his pointed ears, “When did y’first want me to be here, then? I’m prettty free when it comes to m’ time at th’ moment, in case y’haven’t guessed.”