ɱɑʀiɛ (coveted) wrote in summerview, @ 2019-01-10 13:49:00 |
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The new shop in town was able to make a different sort of strong tea that Jayati had never had before but was quickly finding herself addicted to. It kept her hands warm as she wandered down the town towards the wharfs, still blinking as she struggled to gain alertness. She had been up all night, flying to the next closest Sanctuary city that also had a Dragon as a sheriff to compare notes. The productivity of that flight was mixed at best. They were united yes, but connected might be a better word. When crisis lurked on the horizon, they were more likely to close ranks and put the safety of their own city far above their allies. So Jayati was tired, but restless, too much on her mind to go to bed even if she should. For now, curious legs took her down to check out the new restaurant that was preparing to open. Cajun, and Jayati had only briefly been there, but it was enough to intrigue her. A good distraction too, and it reminded her why exactly she was so invested in this town. Jayati had lost one home, she definitely wasn’t going to lose another. At least it wasn’t overly cold today. All things considered. It made loitering in front of the building and watching it being painted not as uncomfortable as it could have been. Restaurant progress was coming along nicely. Marie was about ready to promote the opening and, in preparation for that, she’d spent all morning passing out samples of her dishes on the wharf - sort of mingling in and out of the crowds, as they visited the various stands and shops, talking up her new venture and promoting her brand. Which was clearly hot, hot, hot - in more than a few ways. It was a pleasant day, a little cold - but pleasant nonetheless. It was so lovely, with the soft sky above, the clouds reflecting light, the lacy foam that was like a blanket over the blue water. She was glad she chose to open her restaurant here, an oceanside view - the sea held a special sort of beauty. And the smell, mmm, it was delicious. Soon, her spice would be tickling nostrils as well. “Bonjour,” she greeted, approaching the restaurant and the sheriff standing outside. “I’m not open yet, but here - “ She offered one of the last samples she had, alligator gumbo in a small paper cup. “Try some.” Oh. Samples. That was different. Jayati removed her other hand from her jacket pocket, “Bonjour.” She returned, faintly amused but not cruelly so as she plucked one of the plastic cups from the tray. There was a tiny plastic spoon, but Jayati tossed it back instead, almost like a shot. It wasn't much anyway. Flavor and spice exploded across her tongue and her eyes lit up, nearly snatching one of the other cups off the tray, but she wasn’t that animalistic. Today. “This is very good.” The compliment may not have been very flowery, but the warmth behind it was genuine. Jayati enjoyed cooking, though she had no desire to make a living off of it, she respected those who did. “Do you have a date yet?” Apparently she should have visited Louisiana before, it was nice to eat food that had as much flavor as her childhood again. Marie’s dark eyes twinkled with humor. That was indeed one way to enjoy spicy gumbo, toss it back and down your gullet like a shot. She was glad the reception was positive, but really, who could resist a tasty bit of alligator? “Merci,” she took the compliment happily - getting people to test her recipes, kind of in a ‘soft’ open, had been her goal. That way before she opened for real, she’d be able to tweak things as necessary. “Saturday, it’s the twelfth of January. That’s when I’m officially launching. Would you like to come in?” she asked, since most everything was set up - rustic as the place was, of course. Once Jayati walked in, she’d see that it wasn’t much more than a good, old-fashioned dive with a lot of New Orleans charm. It was not her first time having alligator, though it was her first time having it cooked quite this way. “I haven’t had cooked alligator in,” Jayati blinked at Marie, eyes drifting around for a moment as she dug around in her memory. That was from the fuzzy period, honestly, the last time she had eaten cooked gator, so who knew really. “A minute.” The empty cup was crunched and stuffed in her pocket, a bit awkward but with nowhere else to put it and refusing to just drop it on the ground. Call it her animalistic side, but she had a dislike of littering. “Sure.” Though she was a little surprised that Marie was inviting anyone in when the place wasn’t ready, but what did she know about legitimate restaurants? She stepped around paint buckets on the outside and workers on the inside, taking the interior in with a curious and dutifully appreciative stare, “You really went all out on this, didn’t you?” Not that her expectations were low or anything, but still, this was far above her creativity level. Don’t worry, Jayati, we had trash cans in this house. Since Marie planned to do her first soft open tomorrow, having a friend or two come by to taste her food, she was ready - there was still some work going on outside, on the exterior, but that would not take long. Boudin was nearly up and running. Extending her hand for the paper cup, she would add that to her collection of sample left-behinds; the tray she was carrying had some empty cups as well, and she took care of that before pulling out a seat at one of the tables. Mismatched, not exactly going with the chairs - but that was the appeal of the setup. “It looks like how a dive in New Orleans should,” she said, with a sloe-gin sort of smile. Tempting, compelling - it was always in her nature, wired in her bones. Getting them both some water, she sat at the table. “How is your sheriff work going, ma chère?” The detritus was dropped into the bin, thinking that the place really didn’t look so different from a restaurant that just happened to be slow at the time. The 12th made sense, it looked ready to go already, and a little alive to boot. Must be the passion that Marie put into it — really, the passion and energy the girl seemed to exude. Jayati envied that, a little. Her hands traced the grooves of the table; colorful, a little worn but in a good way. Homey but mysterious and lively all the same. Jayati knew that smile though, too well, and it left her an odd mix of wary and faintly amused. Not that she blamed her. As she told Mircea, they were what they were and it would be better if they stopped hiding from it or being ashamed. Not that she was eager to indulge in being a snack for anyone though, “This is the cleanest, least smelly dive I’ve ever been in.” The dry joke came with an equally wry smile even as she shoved her hands back in her pockets, eyes lingering on Marie but still taking in the place every few moments as people moved about. The water was taken with an appreciative nod, “Tiring. Long. Worth it though. Same as this place, I imagine?” “Least smelly? Merci,” she drawled, chuckling as she tucked one knee over the other, sitting casually in her chair. Her arm draped over the back of it, fingers of her other hand idly turning the water glass. “It is worth it, yes. I have always worked hard for what I have. Especially after the hurricane took everything away.” The hurricane being Katrina, of course - Marie had been young at the time, but it forced her to toughen up. Then, leaving home when she was barely legal (something that many succubi did, not exactly feeling a pull to continue to have a watchful, familial eye over them) also sharpened her skills, her senses; she was velvet draped over the blade of an executioner. “And the other cities?” she inquired, dark eyes studying Jayati. “Their network of Malcontents - did you know how rich they are? Where they stash their money?” Because she might know, actually. Bah. She only brought it up because she didn’t care for the message she’d heard whispered through the grapevine, from those passing through. They weren’t ‘owed’ anything, or necessarily better than humans, despite what some blowhards thought. Jayati winced, “Sorry, that was supposed to be a compliment.” Not that Jayati was the best that those, but still. She tried sometimes. Her approval and disapproval alike was more likely to be shown in actions than words, in her defense, so she was better at the former than the latter. “It looks like you bounced back admirably well. Losing a home is not something you ever really get over.” Ah, she hadn’t realized they had so much in common, Marie and her. The glass of water was raised halfway to her lips when she asked the question, and her eyes that had been watchful around the place slid back to Marie with a sharp intent. The conversation suddenly had a bit of a different air with that ugly business being brought up, “The other cities are fine, at the moment. I do not, all I know is they are well connected.” Jayati was a direct person, that was known, but this was security, and public. Fine wasn’t the most encouraging thing but nor was it enough detail to cause panic, “No. But I’d like to.” They had to have money to stay hidden but move about so freely. A drink then, slow and easy as she leaned back in the solid chair, watching Marie to see what she presented, why she brought it up. Any weariness from earlier was replaced with alertness at the revival of this topic in her mind, and the possibility of something new and helpful. Marie doubted the other cities were fine, especially considering what she’d read in the paper - but that could be a detail broached later. At this point, she wasn’t sure what was expected of those in Summerview - however, she would help if she were able to do so. She shrugged, sipping her water. “Rumor has it, Seychelles - the capital is Victoria. It’s like a swamp of...shady business. I bet it’s not only where they stash their funds, in offshore accounts, but other shady venturers do too. I heard a couple people talking about it on the wharf - how the weather is in Victoria, the heat just roars in during the afternoon and the whole city feels like a convection oven. But no one would have any business in Victoria, if it weren’t related to money.” If you weren’t familiar with what happened on those islands you’d just think it was a talk about vacation destinations, but. That wasn’t it, was it? This hard guess was something she’d stand behind - because she knew how rich some supernaturals were, and that they were old enough to know how to funnel their money through various avenues in order to avoid detection. “It might be a gamble checking it out but if you do I guarantee you’ll find something.” Seychelles. Hm. That was unexpected, but admittedly, less and less so the more she thought about it. Regulations and government stability in that part of the world came and went, yet there were a number of Supernatural species there that were quite old and kept to themselves. The sort who were good at setting up tiny kingdoms that ran with their rules and only their rules. Which, was a thing Jayati normally didn’t have a problem with. Most things she didn’t have a problem with, until it impeded on the safety of Summerview, and now it was. She filed away the information, resisting the impulse to write it down, but she had a good memory for keypoints for the most part. Another sip of water as she considered what was possibly even more important than this information — it’s source. “Do you hear a lot of rumors like these, Marie?” Ever calm and curious, but with an idea sparking behind her eyes. “Sometimes. I heard a lot while waitressing,” Marie replied, shifting her position in her chair - her legs recrossed, and she leaned forward a bit. After all, this was a private conversation - there was no one in the restaurant but them, however, it just felt like quite a hushed moment. “And I have certain ways of getting people to talk, if necessary.” She was very persuasive, shall we say. All it took was one touch - and if she had to sleep with them to get info, so be it. Their chi could be taken at the same time, their memory corrupted so they didn’t recall spilling everything during a bout of sweaty pillow talk. Marie wasn’t hesitant about using her hunting skills either. At the very least, she’d touch an arm here or a face there, to get what she wanted when she was hungry - succubi didn’t care, they did what they had to do. If they cared, then they wouldn’t be able to survive. The only person she’d never used it on was Julius. Jayati was no general. Not in the sense of great battle strategies or long term, she was more of a foot soldier, always had been. Show her an army and give her one group with good hearts and vicious eyes, or just put good weapons in her hands and she could make a plan. But how how to dismantle a force? Tear it apart bit by bit, or from the inside out, winning a war with little bloodshed? It wasn’t her forte. That was for cleverer people. Who saw the big picture, had books and patience to spare. People like Marie, probably. However. She was fine with weapons, fine at knowing when bows were preferable over throwing knives. The glass was set down so she could reach up to pull her hair free of it’s ponytail, leaning forward to listen and study the younger woman’s face. There was a plan, and she didn’t know if it was a good one, but she did think it would be effective. A deep sigh as she ran her nails over her scalp, not even wincing when she hit a tangle or five, “Alright. That sounds like I don’t need to know as long as no one drops from it,” Because Sheriff had a unique interpretation here, alright? “What sort of incentive would it take for you to keep your ears to the ground for me on a regular basis? For anything that catches your eye or specific things sometimes, if necessary?” It didn’t feel like a shady business deal. Jayati had presided over those. More like… A meeting of generals. Incentive? Oooh, how enticing. Marie was interested, certainly (though sometimes people ‘dropped’ because of her persuasive skills; in this case, however, she assumed Jayati meant drop dead. Non, she didn’t dabble in murder, thank you). “I want to pay back those who put money into this place to help me,” she said, gesturing around them. “So if on your end you want a little extra help, I don’t mind some monetary incentive passed my way?” It wouldn’t be just her doing the spywork either - likely she’d have to find some others, paying them under the table too. But it would be a successful gig - she was surprised the head of law enforcement didn’t already have a setup. Times were changing, and now more than ever they’d definitely need one, anyway. Jayati felt her shoulders drop with tension she didn’t remember pulling in. At the risk, maybe, in pulling in an unknown, or just a (probably) defenseless civilian. Really, she needed to stop thinking of most of the Summerview citizens as fragile, it was just difficult when she had seen so much and they were so young. And she was so tired. Too tired, for a dragon her age. Young, in the scheme of things. But it was a relief, to hear all she wanted was normal human currency. That was easy. Easy to acquire and easy to understand. “That won’t be a problem.” One of her hands dug into the inside pocket of her jacket to pull out a card, simple, her name and Sheriff on simple cardstock with her cellphone number and her email. It was slid across to Marie, “Text me your number, I’ll have a check mailed to you from my personal account. If the amount is not sufficient — and your first rumor checks out, we’ll revisit it. Deal?” It definitely wasn’t the most formal of things, but Jayati had a reputation for being reliable, and Dragons in general were known to keep meticulous records of finances and others as well. “Alright, deal.” Marie took the card, flipping it over to study it before tucking it away in her pocket. Money made the world go round, didn’t it? Even for people like them. There were some things that didn’t change, no matter who or what you were. And she was far from defenseless. May as well use her darker skills for some appropriately shadowy dealings. She also trusted Jayati to follow through - besides, it was a small island. Marie knew where she’d be, if it came to that. “A pleasure doing business with you,” she smiled. “But please, come back when Boudin is officially open. You won’t regret it.” There was more gumbo where that came from. |