[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/qAOSq3Y.png[/img] [h3]☽[color=99004d]Masha [/color]☾[/h3] [hr] [sub][h3][u][b]Time[/b][/u][/h3][h3]Day 4~ 5 P.M. [/h3][h3] [u][b]Location[/b][/u][/h3][h3] One Night in Hell, within Ominar’s Entertainment district [/h3][/sub][/center] [hr] The ad had gone out in the papers that morning. Because there were just some holdovers that didn’t seem to want to let go. The online print of them had of course been out since a few hours after she’d paid them. So she was sure there’d be a few people in today to interview for the varying positions that she had put out there. They needed a few new bartenders, especially since they were currently down one with Nikki being hurt. A bouncer or two would be of use. And some pretty girls and boys to walk the tables and charm the money out of their clientele. And maybe another cook, just to make sure that shifts were totally covered. She’d see who came in though and work from there. So she was already sitting out at the bar at about noon when she’d set the time to start, she had had too much to do in the morning to try and do it sooner. And she had figured that most people who would be willing to work a shift at a club were probably not morning people anyways. Cigarette in one hand, drink in front of her, and her tablet propped up in front of her as she casually scrolled through paint options. Cortes uncharacteristically arrived late. Dressed in a button shirt, slacks and sneakers, his fashion seemed more casual for this morning. As he pushed the door open and strolled inside, his eyes brushed the atmosphere. Noting Afua’s absence, a small smirk slipped onto his thin lips. A mischievous one. He took a seat upon the stool next to Masha and casually glanced at her tablet, noting the subject. Ordering a scotch from Bruce, who nodded, he shifted to the cabinet display and placed a glass upon the table. The rich brown liquid filled the crystal easily to the top before sliding it over to Cortes. Feigning interest in his drink, Cortes raised it to his eyes and tilted it side to side. “So, any word on Ms. Patel? She was absent from your meeting.” His words broke the silence between them then took a sip. Masha didn’t even look up, just kept scrolling through and taking a drag from her cigarette. “I’ve looked into it,” she said with a half shrug, blowing out the smoke towards the ceiling. “And that’s all you need to know. I’ll deal with it. I’m the boss after all.” She knew that that would open Nikki to more danger, but she’d made sure to put better guard, both police and personal protection over her and the boy. Cortes gave an unsatisfied nod. His fingers gripped his glass at the edges then downed it in a single round. Softly smacked his lips a bit, he pushed off the stool and began to make his rounds. He seemed to be stewing over what Masha had said. [color=#4a85e2]Nabriales Taeryn had had a wonderfully eventful morning. Some of his contacts in the alchemical wholesaler's association had threatened his access to staple alchemical goods without a pay rise, and as he still (after all this time with an exorbitant amount of money to his name) had almost no idea how much things were worth in mundane currency he had had to get in touch with Accountant - 11. After paying for the privilege of his services - though he swore paying the price was a service in and of itself - they'd gone over the details and worked out that they were already paying them over double the industry standard for their goods. Needless to say, Nabriales was unhappy. Not because of the financial loss - because he paid people to worry about that for him - but because of the sheer [i]gall[/i] it took to try and swindle him. After reaching out to a few friends of friends, he had struck new supply deals within the hour and had very legitimately considered taking due reparations against the unscrupulous merchants... But had quickly grown bored of the revenge fantasy and decided to do something more productive with his time. That happened to be browsing the internet for anything he might find interesting. Just as luck would have it, Nabriales came across the recently advertised opening for staff members at a Nightclub he'd heard some about. If he recalled correctly, his foxy friend had alluded to some interests in that type of thing in the past - and thinking about it, it would be difficult to become entrenched in such an establishment without Darius getting wind; that was precisely the push that Nabriales needed to decide to go for it. He read the time, memorised the location, and proceeded to get himself into some of his nicer, flowier clothing. At twelve on the dot Nabriales poofed out of existence at Victorious Secret, having left Damian in charge of the basic day-to-day running of the store. He poofed back into existence at the approximate whereabouts of the entrance and unintentionally found himself standing a couple of feet away from Masha. In order to best save face and not let slip that he'd overshot the teleport to a new location a little, he immediately announced: [color=#F43EF7]"Your newest bartender has arrived, hon."[/color][/color] Masha had hardly even acknowledged that Cortes had gotten up. She was sure that she'd not said exactly the right thing, but sooner or later he was bound to figure out that Nikki wasn't as dead as he had intended her to be. But she was also confident enough that she had her protected well enough too. So she went back to focusing more on her color options. So she didn't notice Nabriales’ arrival until he spoke. She jumped a little in surprise, spinning on the stool to look at him full on over the rim of her dark framed glasses. “Okay, yeah, sure,” she said, seeming confused as she tried to actually process what it was that he had said. “Suppose the confidence is good,” she went on once her brain had finished up the thought and her heart beat had calmed some, “but it's going to take a bit more than that. So let's start that over again, mmkay?” She turned slightly again and put out the last little bit of her smoke before turning back and looking Nabriales over now with much less surprise. She supposed he’d be a good fit, visually, at least. But at the same time, looks weren’t everything. Cortes was decent looking too, but he was an ass and not in the fun way, and that kinda ruined it. It would take a lot more than good looks for her to be interested in someone who was actively trying to kill her. When she was done with the look over, she looked back up to his face expectantly, waiting for him to go first. [color=#4a85e2]Masha's momentary confusion came as no surprise to Nabriales, who had noted several decades ago that he just generally had that sort of effect on people. Teleporting around willy-nilly did seem to confuse most people, though in truth Nabriales was more confused than all of them - how did they get around if they didn't teleport? Uber? Walking? Goodness, no. That wouldn't do. As Masha started looking him over for the second time he shook himself from the tangential reverie and gave her a warm, genuine smile as he sat down opposite her. [color=#F43EF7]"I suppose that's fair, though I must admit that I am used to my reputation preceding me! Let's see... My name is Nabriales Taeryn, and I own a quaint little potion shop across the city - Victorious Secret! I'm an alchemist by trade, so I know my way around a drink or three... I have all of that relevant customer services bollocks that everyone goes on about, though sometimes people really just need a bottle of vodka up their ass and a slap, you know?"[/color ]Nabriales began, speaking in somewhat hurried tones that denoted not so much nervousness as a mixture of excitement and unfamiliarity. It would be clear that he'd never had to interview for anything in his life - when he came to the city with nothing, he'd used charm and his magical skills to build himself up. When he was well-established, he'd had enough money and charm and alchemy to bend whatever he'd wanted to his will - and now his current fascination was in the hands of another. Charm would certainly have its perks, as would the fact he was wealthy... But not being in control of a situation was something he'd not experienced in a long time - and he enjoyed the relative helplessness as a change of pace from his otherwise predictable (if in an unpredictable fashion) lifestyle. [color=#F43EF7]"Ask anything you want about me, hon. I'll think up some questions to ask about this place and my new employer in the interim!"[/color] he added, speaking as if this was already a sure thing and that the song and dance were merely for show. Assertiveness was a key component of a successful business venture, so he figured the same logic would apply to an interview.[/color] Masha quirked an eyebrow up as he went on, noting the way he seemed to be a big bubbling ball of enthusiasm. She wasn’t certain that she could deal with that much hype so often. She wasn’t made of cheer, and having to deal with that much cheer might do the opposite of cheer her up. At the mention of his name she nodded her head, filing that away with what she’d heard about him before. Of course she’d heard about him, even if she was rather new to the city and all. But this was not quite the image she’d had in mind for him. “Why would you want to work a slum like this when you have your own business to run?” she asked with a tilt of her head, crossing one leg over the other at the knee as she turned to face him again. “I can’t imagine that being a bartender is top on the list of fun side jobs. Nor do you even need a side job for that matter.” [color=#4a85e2][color=#F43EF7]"I don't need a job at all, I work because it gives me something to do! I'd consider myself to be a bit of a hedonist, hon, and I spend my considerable energy and talent doing whatever it is in the moment that I find interesting... Which is usually either alchemy or men. With some help in the marketing department and some serious mixology, this could [i]certainly[/i] qualify as a place for me to indulge the latter! 'One Night in Hell' has that gritty, sexy vibe that people tend to go for, and that works for me!"[/color] He replied, somewhat coyly. He could see the potential in the place, that was for sure - Darius normally knew how to pick 'em, and with some fixing up the club could easily make it to the forefront of the entertainment world. Niche was the new mass appeal, after all - the place just needed some bling and some talent. Fortunately, Nabriales had plenty of both. [color=#F43EF7]"My evenings are usually spent brewing up new treats or chasing tail, and I figure that a bar is the perfect environment to do both, in short. Why would you want to get into running a business like this? I can tell from a look at you that you're more... Refined than what this currently is." [/color]He noted, gesticulating towards the area as a whole. He turned to look around, and then let his gaze rest comfortably at Masha's face. Being forthwith was perhaps not the most ideal strategy, but he got the feeling that Masha was the kind of person that would appreciate total honesty. If Darius had a hand in this place - and it was beginning to look like he did - Nabriales was certain that not a great deal of honesty had graced the club.[/color][/color] That was such a strange thought. Working because he was bored. Even when bored, she'd rather not work. She'd rather not work ever, but needs must. She had expensive taste and even though she had money now, it wouldn't last forever. She needed to establish a flow of cash, and hopefully something that once it was set up, would run itself and she could just sit back and enjoy it. While she smirked at his comment about basically wanting to work to get laid, she didn't at all seem bothered that he wouldn't be available to her. Maybe a little bothered by him possibly taking men away from her, but that was a road to cross later. [I]If [/i] she hired him. At his questions, she shrugged and picked up her mostly finished drink. “Gotta start somewhere. I'm new in town, so I don't have the luxury of something that is more my speed to just step into. As you probably know, you've got to show your worth, build yourself up before you can just dick about and indulge. Besides, as you said, this place has potential. Just need to bring it out.” [color=#4a85e2][color=#F43EF7]"I see, I see... Well, in that case, don't worry about paying me! I have more than enough money to last me several lifetimes, and you seem like you could use a saving or two around here! If the place gets big enough, I'd be happy to throw some money into marketing it for you - the more people come through, the better the choice!"[/color] Nabriales offered, somewhat nonchalantly. His motive was on the table - meet people, get laid - and he had plenty of money to spare. Most people would be suspicious of such an offer, and rightly so - but Nabriales certainly didn't give off the impression of someone who was disingenuous, and his reputation attested to the reality of his situation. What Masha made of it either way was up to her, but Nabriales knew an opportunist when he saw one. What he offered was an extraordinarily good deal, though the nuances of having to [i]work[/i] with him muddied the waters a little. Still, if she could stomach his unique personality and lackadaisical attitude towards everything not in a bottle he'd make a very powerful ally. [color=#F43EF7]"The easiest way ahead is to have wealthy friends or wealthy lovers, as I'm sure you well know! I'm happy to be the former, provided everything works out! I'm also a dab hand at teleportation magic, so I'll be happy to lend that to the cause... Do you want to know anything else about me or my skills? I'm not really sure how an interview is supposed to go, if I'm honest!"[/color] Nabriales added, waving his hand and summoning a bottle of red wine from Victorious Secret, along with two pristine crystal flutes. [color=#F43EF7]"You seem like you could use some good wine."[/color] he laughed as he poured two glasses halfway full and invited Masha to drink at will.[/color] As the conversation between Nabriales and Masha continued, a familiar woman’s voice became louder. Sounds of pots and pans hit the floor as Cortes abruptly ducked into the room. His arms were shielding his head and his shirt ruffled, some reddish sauce smeared over the front. Irma immediately followed him, her face red hot in anger, as she waved her fist at him. “Don’t you dare come into my kitchen again! You arschgeige!” Irma shouted loudly. Her hair was a mess and fists ready to beat Cortes into a pulp. Spying Masha’s business, the plump and hot temper cook considered what to say. Wiping his now bleeding lip, Cortes smugly commented, “You didn’t have to swing at me, Ms. Quin. I merely told you the truth.” Masha had looked at Nabriales like he had just suggested that he could sprout another head. No one offered that sort of thing without some kind of payback. There was nothing free in this world. He seemed genuine, but that didn't mean there wasn't some hidden costs either. “Well I already have both of those,” she murmured mostly, though she didn't make it so hard for him to hear either. And since she wasn't about to share who her lover was, she didn't have to admit that he was both friend and lover. But of cause more wouldn't hurt, especially the friends portion because Nabriales was not to be the lover. So she didn't say no outright. She'd be stupid to pass this up without looking into it more. She looked obviously impressed at his wine, smirking at little and going to reach for the glass when the commotion from the kitchen stopped her hand just before it closed around the crystal. “What now,” she groaned, shifting to watch Cortes come scurrying out with his metaphorical tail between his legs, even if he was acting like he wasn't wounded. “Cortes!” she hissed, standing up on the rung of the stool to give her the height she lacked. She thankfully had very good balance or that might have been a dangerous move. “Get your ass over here [i]now[/i].” Irma was temperamental, but every cook she’d ever met had been. And even if she wasn’t, she was 100% sure that it was Cortes at fault and not really anything to do with other woman. Masha looked up to Irma, her face apologetic as she gestured to Nabriales next to her to indicate that she was busy, but she wouldn’t forget either. “I’ll be back in a few, okay?” Irma, unperturbed by Masha’s voice, continued to glare at Cortes’ retreating back. Her fist tightened again. She mumbled in German at the older delinquent under her breath. With a deep inhale, her portly figure turned to waltz back to do her job. Her mood was still too sour to watch the fallout of Cortes’ actions as she slammed the doors open. Irma paused just long enough to deliver a warning. “You deal with him, or I’m gone!” Her tone was only a small degree softer in response to Masha’s expression then vanished. Her voice carried behind her in German and loud enough for Masha to catch. Another clash of pans erupted. Whatever Cortes did, Irma’s rage wouldn’t subside without some addressing. Cortes frowned when he spotted Masha allow the cook to retreat back into the kitchen, unchallenged. His eyes fought hard not to roll at the show of favoritism. On route to the bar, his hand gestured to Bruce for a napkin. Moving past Nabriales, the burly male crouched down and snatched several before he passed them over the counter. “Crazy woman,” he mumbled as he mopped up the mess. Tossing several crumpled napkins on the bar end, he turned to Masha with chuckle. “I have no idea why you’re getting upset with me. I’m the one with sauce all down my front and nearly beaten by an ill tempered woman while doing my job.” Masha’s eyebrow quirked up and she rolled her eyes as she sat herself back down. “Somehow, I doubt that,” she said, her annoyance clear in her tone. “I’ve been around enough cooks to know that typically they don’t do well when other people invade their kitchen. Especially people who have no business being there.” She cleared her throat some and finally picked up the wine that Nabriales had offered. “Now if you’d like to [i]actually[/i] do your job, we have someone here for an interview.” She gestured to the other man with her free hand, looking at Cortes seriously. “Then we can address what it is that happened in the kitchen.” “Certainly, but your opinion might change when you realize the situation.” Cortes had shrugged off the incident, but didn’t make any additional comment. His tone still indicated he didn’t believe he started it as he wrapped up cleaning himself up. The stain, however, refused to be completely removed much to his disdain. Moving the conversation along, he folded his hands on the table and made one last snip comment. “Of course. I apologize for my absence, I had to address daily check ins. Mr. Cortes, and you are?” [color=#4a85e2][color=#F43EF7]"Nabriales Taeryn! Charmed, I'm sure."[/color] Nabriales replied, extending his hand in what ostensibly looked to be a handshake, but was quickly revealed to be more of his signature teleportation magic. Cortes' shirt appeared in his hand, and Nabriales gazed upon the stain somewhat intently before placing the crystal flute in his hand down and summoning a vial of purple liquid to his hand. He opened the stopper with his teeth, looking up at Cortes as he did so, and allowed a couple of drops to fall onto the shirt. The stain vanished almost immediately, but the shirt was left with a bright purple tinge to compensate for its newfound cleanliness. He thrust it towards Cortes, and replaced the stopper and returned the vial from whence it came. [color=#F43EF7]"You're welcome! That said, you're better off without the shirt."[/color] he added, turning back to Masha. [color=#F43EF7]"Feel free to go and deal with that, hon. My little Damian is taking care of Victorious Secret - I'm free all day!"[/color] There wasn't much else for Nabriales to do until the issue was resolved, he figured. He could sense the discomfort in the air, and the tension was so thick as to be palpable - whoever this Cortes was, it was clear that he at least enjoyed making Masha's life more difficult than it needed to be. Nabriales just wasn't sure whether or not that was jokingly or maliciously, and he intended to stick around long enough to find out.[/color] Masha rolled her eyes some at the show. Though admittedly, Cortes wasn't the worst to look at. So it wasn't an awful experience. And she did enjoy watching him be embarrassed for the sudden disappearance of his shirt in his own bar. She sipped at her wine, very thankful for the increase in quality between what she'd been drinking. She'd had the bar restocked, but the quality was still not the best though it had improved. She looked at Nabriales, then over to Cortes, lips pursed in thought for a second. “I'll be back,” she said standing and obviously taking her drink with her. “Actually do your job, not just scare him off,” she said pointedly to Cortes before heading to the kitchen to see what sort of level the rage was at with Irma. Cortes reached to shake the hands only to feel the cool air dance upon his skin. Arm still outstretched, his eyes snapped down to his shirtless torso. His eyes widened in shock and a hint of fear as he digested what had happened. At Nabriales’ words, Cortes’ head tilted upward to note where his shirt had gone to. He frowned, clearly not ecstatic about having lost his shirt. His tongue rolled across his mouth side while he waited and watched the cleaning process Nabriales performed. Carefully he took it back, “Thank you… I suppose.” His hands held it at arm’s length to scrutinize the job. After a moment, he decided to risk it and placed the shirt back on. Placing one arm through the sleeve, he turned his head at Masha’s words. “Very well,” He replied then mumbled softly under his breath, “No promises though.” Straightening upright, he mentally took a moment to collect the proper questions. “So what experience do you have with bartending? References you can provide or past employment?” Cortes was unaware that Nabriales had been asked these questions before his arrival. [color=#4a85e2]Cortes' reaction to Nabriales' little cleaning trick wasn't quite as pronounced as he'd hoped it would be - and that was a little disappointing. Still, making someone uncomfortable in what they perceived to be their own territory was amusing in and of itself, and he'd demonstrated a little of his magical prowess to boot. It could certainly have gone worse. [color=#F43EF7]"Oh, we already went over the boring interview questions, hon. Besides, I'm more of a believer in... Practical experience."[/color] Nabriales replied, raising his eyebrows suggestively at the word 'practical'. He placed his hands on the table before him and took a moment before asking another question. [color=#F43EF7]"What's your tipple of choice? And please - nothing 'on the rocks'. I can't very well demonstrate my mixology if what you want is someone to decant your favourite liquor and not an [i]experience[/i]."[/color] he added, waiting for Cortes' reply expectantly.[/color] “Strawberry tequila sunrise.” [color=#4a85e2]Nabriales raised an eyebrow at the choice of drink, looking at Cortes as if to say "really raising the bar high here, aren't we?". Still, with a wave of his hand he poofed into being a punnet of strawberries, his favourite mortar and pestle, a bottle of Tequila that didn't [i]quite[/i] make him think he was drinking the Devil's piss, and a pitcher full of ice-cold freshly squeezed orange juice. Having permanent access to one's kitchen and bar at the wave of a hand was remarkably convenient - and though he ordinarily wouldn't be caught dead drinking a Tequila Sunrise of any variety at this time of year, it was what Cortes had asked for. Likely because it was such an out of season drink, and fresh strawberry puree was not something bars tended to stock with any regularity - even in season. Nabriales imagined that Cortes imagined he was being crafty - and he may well have dissuaded someone with lesser experience and tenacity. He wondered what that meant - trying to set someone up to stumble like that... If he had something to do with the club's management, he would surely want it to do well? Perhaps he wanted to reflect a negative image on Masha, to reclaim something he'd lost? He seemed like the type to crave power - he had that weaselly, squirrelly look of someone who desired above their means. He'd made potions promising fortune and glory for many such men and women in the past - reading that particular trait wasn't hard at all. Still, he senses there was more to the picture than anything he could currently come up with and elected to leave the conjecture in his head. He did, after all, have a drink to prepare. Nabriales proceeded to grind some of the strawberries to a fine pulp within the mortar and pestle. Some liked their fruit puree sieved finely to get rid of any conflicting textures, but he liked that about freshly ground fruits and elected to leave it in. He teleported himself behind the bar, the components of the drink to the bar, and Cortes onto a barstool in front of him as he assembled the drink. He looked around briefly, managing to find what he considered a passably clean glass before simply summoning a crystal flute of his own. He filled it with a tablespoon or so of the puree, then with ice from a nearby bucket, and topped that off with the orange juice and a shot of tequila. He looked at the glass, before adding in a splash more tequila and stirring it, infusing it with just a little of his vis slyly as he did so. Nothing untoward, he reasoned to himself - just a little extra kick to take the edge off. With a wink, he slid the drink over to Cortes in one clean motion. [color=#F43EF7]"Though your taste in drinks is questionable, do enjoy! You certainly look like you're in need of something to help you unwind, you know..."[/color] He beamed, patiently waiting for Cortes to taste what would be the best - and possibly only - strawberry tequila sunrise of his life.[/color] Cortes didn’t flinch at Nabriales’ look. He kept up the smirk and reclined back a little, waiting for his drink. An eyebrow raised when he watched the items magically appear, but he made no comment. His arms crossed over the counter surface while the theatrics played on. His hand reached for his back pocket and withdrew his phone. A casual eye glanced over it then noted the message sent to him. A thumb swipe pulled the text up causing him to frown and then delete it. Inhaling a single breath, he scrutinized the drink passed to him. “Oh, I just wanted to see if you could make one. It appears you have skills at least.” Cortes commented then sent it to the side. His attention moved to Bruce, who lurked nearby cleaning a shot glass, then ordered a scotch on the rocks. Obediently, the burly man lowered himself and pulled up an unopened bottle. Popping the seal, the dark liquor poured into the glass with a few ice cubes. They bobbed and tinged about the surface while Bruce passed it to Cortes. Wordlessly, Cortes told a long drink before continuing the conversation. “Now, what drew you to want to work here? A man as well off as yourself could clearly do much better.” His voice held a seriousness to it, hidden under false curiosity. [color=#4a85e2][color=#F43EF7]"Consider why anyone works, hon. We all put ourselves in situations in which we can most easily get what we want. I have money, so I don't need that... I have my own business, so I don't need the challenge... Bearing in mind that I need neither of those things, I think this place will provide me with just what I'm after. That's why I'm here!"[/color] Nabriales replied, his look turning a little at Cortes' refusal to consume the beverage he'd prepared. Poor manners, and there was a glimmer of distaste just behind his eyes that concerned the soon-to-be bartender. Still, he could see it wouldn't avail him any to waste the effort on trying to win Cortes over. He'd dealt with far worse than Cortes in his time, and the sticklers like him usually found a way to get themselves ahead or get themselves killed - one would happen to him eventually. [color=#F43EF7]"If I may... Why are you here? You're clearly not very enthused about this whole arrangement, and if your shirt was anything to go by there's no love lost between you and the rest of the staff... Seems like you could be doing something that more easily gets you what you want, you know?"[/color] Nabriales offered offhandedly, picking up the drink he'd made and taking a deep sip himself. He smacked his lips in satisfaction and put it down beside him - he really did make a [i]damn[/i] good cocktail. While waiting for Cortes to reply he took a quick look around the club, surveying it closely. He wanted to get familiar with the layout and with his new colleagues as quickly as possible in order to carve out a niche for himself early on. He was very confident in his ability to fit in just about anywhere, but it was always good to make oneself indispensable as quickly as possible - especially if someone like Cortes was around.[/color] “[i]If[/i] you’re hired.” Cortes stated. It was a reminder to Nabriales that the final decision still resided with Masha. Cortes' mood appeared to suddenly sour during the interview. Something was grating on his nerves, but the source was difficult to tell. It could've been Nabriales' overconfidence in his qualifications or his earlier text message. Taking another sip, Cortes tilted his head toward Nabriales’ observations. “Using a twist off your own words, I’ve already put myself in a situation that brings me closer to my wants. It just requires a bit more work than expected.” Cortes cryptically answered. His expression indicated he was done answering any additional questions beyond interview variety. [color=#4a85e2][color=#F43EF7]"Unless she finds someone else who'll work for free, I'm pretty sure this is a done deal! Still, if I don't get hired... You should stop by my store some time! Victorious Secret has a potion for [i]every[/i] occasion."[/color] Nabriales laughed, shrugging off Cortes' apparent turn of mood. It became clear very quickly that there was no more discourse to be had, so Nabriales picked up his drink and decided to give himself a makeshift tour of the premises. He walked around the bar area reasonably slowly, investigating the decor quite intently as he did so. It wasn't something [i]he'd[/i] choose, but he'd garnered quite the appreciation for finery over the years. The current style would likely give off the illusion of wealth to those not surrounded by it daily, and he supposed that was what mattered. The bar existed as a separate world for its patrons, a place where they could go to shed their everyday worries and focus on something that felt better. Nabriales appreciated that, and resolved to ask Masha about using a couple of his potions as part of the bartending routine. Anyone willing to put alcohol in their system would be more than willing to drink something that loosened their inhibitions and got them in the mood to party without the inevitable hangover, surely - and it would give the bar a unique edge that nobody else would be able to replicate. Really, it depended on the kind of person that Masha was. He figured that she'd be on board from what he knew of her, but he didn't know nearly enough yet to be certain. Perhaps he should have been thinking more along the lines of "what if", but he'd never gotten anywhere by being anything less than 100% sure. He believed in dressing for the job he wanted, not the job he had (so to speak). After a couple of minutes of careful observation, he took a seat back at the table where Masha had left and grabbed his cell phone, browsing the internet as he waited for Masha to return from her business in the kitchens.[/color] [center]{In the Kitchen}[/center] Masha came into the kitchen a little hesitantly. She was sure that Irma wouldn’t throw anything at her like she had at Cortes, but that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t get splash back from something else being tossed about. She looked around, locating the chef and heading towards her, crystal flute still in hand. “Okay, what stupid thing did he do?” she asked, with no other preamble to things. She didn’t have the time for it, nor did she think that Irma would be interested in the pussyfooting around. “Stupid is an underestimation of his actions. He expects a high class meal with [i]this[/i].” Irma nearly snapped. She gestured to the various spices, vegetables, and other ingredients that sat upon the counter. Upon closer inspection, it would be clear the chief had to have some talent. Spices were outdated enough to be dry and tasteless. Most 'fresh' vegetables were either aged, often market garbage, or frozen. Even the meat appeared to be mostly fat rather than marbled. “Then when I bring in better quality stuff, he threatens I will be fired for breaking the sanitation laws! This…THIS is not even close to proper for a kitchen.” Huffed the chief, her lips pressed into a thin line and turned to her employer. Masha’s nose wrinkled up some as she looked about the place. She'd been taught to cook by a very good chef, and while she understood that a business sometimes needed to cut some cost on quality, especially at a bar, this was way too much of a cut. “Well...you're both right,” she said with a heavy sigh, sipping at her drink because she had nothing else to deal with this mess. “it's a bar,” she started, coming over to lean against the work station, “people don't come here expecting Michelin star quality. But that doesn't mean it needs to be shut either. I guess I'll have to move this up the list. I'm gonna need you to make a list of things you need, not just [i]want [/i], need. Including better, but still cost effective vendors for food stuff. Okay?” “Vendor food, I can make easily. The main issue is with the food.” Irma handed one package to Masha. The expiration date was nearly a year ago. When Masha passed it back, the old German plump woman huffed in frustration and ground her teeth. “Before Cortes took over, I had decent ingredients and people came not to just drink but eat too. One Night in Hell was a place for sinful indulgence of all variety.” She inhaled then passed the food back into the counter, cleaned recently. “It’s what made this club stand out compared to others. It’s sad to see how far it has fallen since Otto… died.” Masha made a worse face at looking at the food up close. This was...unacceptable was the best word. How had they passed any health inspections with this? When was the last one? She thought she’d looked at it, but now she couldn’t remember. Cortes just seemed to want to watch his own place burn to the ground. Which was just dumb. If you wanted this place to be your cover for whatever it was that you were doing, making it work was the better plan. If it worked, and you did well, people like Darius would leave you to your own devices and you could pretty much do whatever you wanted with the unknowing support of your boss. But he was obviously an idiot. She looked up at the pause, thin dark eyebrows pulling together in confusion. “Cortes?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. The question was about who was responsible for this man, Otto’s, death. Because that pause implied more than something natural or accidental. She knew that pause well, she’d used it enough herself before with other employees of her father’s who had messed up beyond repair. People who’d brought police questions in, who’d intentionally done stupid things. People not unlike Cortes. Not presumable innocent cooks who just wanted their job to be done the best it could. “No proof, but several of us suspected he had something to do with it. It was too perfect and timed too well.” Irma sighed, her arms wrapped about her. She leaned up against the counter edge while she continued to talk. “Otto was a good man. Even Mr. Cain felt his loss enough to shut down the club for a few days. When Cortes stepped into the picture, things changed for the worst. Bouncers weren’t allowed to touch ‘VIP’ members. Even when they groped and interfered with the female staff members. Some were even fired for it.” Irma’s lips cracked a smile at the memories. Her hand lifted a cast iron skillet, weighing it in hand, then looked at Masha. “I taught a few of them not to go helping themselves to my kitchen. Hard to argue with a woman with a cast iron skillet in her hands, right?” She tossed it back down upon the cooling stove as she continued. “ Strange things happen when you defy him, Chef. Too strange to be misfortune. I haven't an idea what he's up to, but I do know confronting him makes it worse. Especially for those who can't defend themselves.” Masha nodded as she listened, taking in what she had already suspected. There was no surprise in her conformation of Cortes being at fault, even if it wasn't totally confirmed. She'd seen and heard enough of what he'd done to do the math required for this. “Well I can defend myself,” she said with a firm nod of her head. “And I certainly won't let wandering hands continue.” And not even just because of what was done to Nikki. She was all for fun, when it was consenting and not forced on you at your workplace. That was not okay and she wouldn't let it go on any longer. “It’s not you I’m worried about. Cortes knows how to manipulate others. How to hurt or help them. If Cortes can’t make you vanish, someone close or important to you will.” Irma bit back the fear in her voice. She let the words settle as she placed her cast iron away and the cupboard door clicked shut. The woman took a defeated breath then released it. She seemed to reflect on something internally before her eyes turned upon Masha. Masha sighed and finished the rest of her drink in one go. “He’s already tried that,” she said with the anger she had just under the surface at him about that clear in her voice. And the only other person in this town who was close to her or meant anything to her was more than capable of taking care of himself. There was no way that Cortes was going to be able to make Darius disappear. She lifted a free hand for a moment, as if considering placing it on the cook's shoulder for reassurance, but she dropped it soon after and instead offered her a little smile. One that hinted at the darkness of her thoughts. “Don't worry too much, I'm here to take care of him.” “I hope so… I’m getting tired of watching ‘accidents’ happen.” Irma stated as she went back to work. Masha merely nodded her head and headed back out to the front of the bar. She looked around to find where everyone had gotten to while she’d been dealing with the other things. She spotted them separate from each other and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at that. What ever did Cortes even do around here besides drink and generally be a terrible manager? She glared at the other man as she passed, but didn’t say anything to him either as she headed back to Nabriales. She placed the glass back down on the table and picked up her cigarette case to pull out another smoke offering it out to the other man as she did so. “So let’s see,” she started right away, lighting up and taking a drag. “Your experience is none, you’re not looking for a paycheck, and you seem totally up embarrassing your potential bosses.” She hummed softly, looking into the middle distance in thought for a moment. “What hours are you available to cover then?” [color=#4a85e2]As Nabriales heard Masha returning from the kitchen he looked up at her with wide, bright eyes and his usual toothy smile. Putting his phone away, he placed his hands on the table as she sat and declined the cigarette that was offered. He raised his left eyebrow ever so slightly when she said "no experience" and actually laughed when she suggested that he had no problems with humiliating a potential employer. [color=#F43EF7]"I'm free basically any time after 5 on weekdays, and free whenever on weekends! Give me the times whenever and I'll show up at a moment's notice!"[/color] He replied, taking another sip of the strawberry tequila sunrise that Cortes had refused. Having used his own liquor, the quality of the drink was superb - and though it didn't necessarily speak to his skill as a bartender as it was mostly good for the sake of being comprised of good ingredients, the alchemical augmentation [i]did[/i] place it on a higher level. Seconds after swallowing the slightly sweet and slightly sour drink he could feel the edge of speaking to Cortes melt away. Leaving about half of the drink within the glass Nabriales set it down and nudged it across the table towards Masha, motioning for her to drink. [color=#F43EF7]"You look like you could use something to take the edge off, hon. Satisfaction guaranteed!"[/color] Nabriales winked, giving Masha a knowing look about what had transpired within the kitchens. He'd not been here long, but from his brief interaction with Cortes it was quite immediately obvious to him what a snake in the grass Cortes was - and given Irma's outburst earlier and Cortes' somehow still arrogant sheepishness he could put two and two together.[/color]