Charlotte Chasen (sirenssong) wrote in summerview, @ 2019-02-27 22:22:00 |
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It was a bad forecast when the first day of the week felt already tiring enough to be the last. Nonetheless disasters had piled atop her shoulders before she'd gotten out of bed – the bed at the Satyr, of course, because the ridiculous house was still missing. And there were three – three! – angry calls from clients on her phone. And her potions' supplier was arrested. And she was in Jersey.
And, and, and – And as of – she glanced at her slim watch – 6:15 PM on this particular Monday night, Oksana was done. She collapsed onto a bar stool in a heap of cashmere and sheer exhaustion. Oksana held up held up three fingers to the bartender, thumb out. "Whiskey," she said. "Something as far away on the shelf from Jack, Johnny, or Jim as possible.” Would they have anything Canadian out here? What the hell, it was worth a try. They had dragons. “Forty Creek if you’ve got it, neat. Please.” “Sure thing,” Charlie smiled down at the woman. She was looking rough, in spirit anyway. The woman herself, what she could see of her anyway, had a beautiful head of hair and a swanky coat. But whatever had happened to her, it was clearly one of those days. A lot of people here had one of those days. And it was Monday. Tough brea. She disappeared without another word to the shelf where they kept the imports and pulled out the bottle that was still half-full. “Huh. I’ll have to try this.” She swirled it in front of her nose, taking in the sweet smell and poured three fingers of it into one of the glasses beside her. “Here you are,” she pushed it in front of her, sliding it from the edge of the bar to the woman’s vicinity. Charlie didn’t tear her eyes from her. It was slow at the moment, but it wouldn’t be for long. Still, she was interested. Business meeting gone bad? Boyfriend sleeping with the dog walker? Nah to the last one. She looked more tired than have had her soul crushed. “Anything else I can get for you?” For a moment, Oksana was puzzled by the amount in her glass...before remember that, yes, she was back in the States and her typical hand signals would now need to be translated. She’d have to remember how to properly order drinks again, good freakin’ grief. Damn Dad and his ridiculous stipulations. “A proper means of communication with the severely uncommunicative?” Oksana said. She raised the glass to her mouth, then paused and extended it to the pretty bartender instead in a clear offer to try. “Nose only gets you so far in appreciating it.” “I’m not sure I can help you with that,” Charlie laughed, though she wasn't mocking the woman, it was more of a laughing along with her, even if she wasn’t laughing. That didn’t matter though because before Charlie knew it, the glass was close to her face and a look of confusion crossed her features. Was she actually offering to let her try it? “Well, here we go then,” the blonde said and pulled the glass to her lips, taking a healthy sip before placing it back in the other blonde’s hand. It burned good, a buzzing sensation climbing down her throat. Good aftertaste too. Definitely not Jack, Johnny, or Jim. “You’ve got good taste,” she smiled. “Let’s see, though. Why are they being pains that way?” she asked. “Communication, wise?” Hey, she might at least entertain the thought of helping her. Why not? Oksana accepted her glass back with a smile, which only widened when her ring brushed the bartender's had. Information flowed from silver to skin to mind. Siren. "I like to try new things. Helps keep a girl ready for opportunities, right?" Oksana smiled and drank her whiskey. Interest has rejuvenated the tired slope of her shoulder, the sagging expression. An idea was flashing like a lure in the water. "It's a very dull example of transference," Oksana continued. "I'm getting the blame because there's nobody else to blame. You know how it is – last target standing, hardest target hit." She held out her free hand. "I'm Oksana by the way." Charlie took it without hesitation, not knowing what suddenly got the woman into a clearly better mood. Sometimes someone just talking to a person pulled them out of that funk. Or maybe she got an idea on how to help herself. Either way, something had clearly changed with her. “Charlie. Nice to meet you,” she said, giving Oksana’s hand a firm, though purposefully not tight, shake. “I know what you mean, about last target standing.” Even family liked to pull that shit. Blame went down the ladder, each person taking it out on the person they could, because they could. It could almost be like a stack of dominos, trailing down the line. Charlie brightened herself and gave a hand to her hair, fluffing the loose curls out. “Did you figure out something? You look like you’re in a better mood already,” she grinned. Oksana raised her glass in toast. "Alcohol, the cause and comfort of troubles worldwide." Yes, definitely a Siren and a pureblood to boot. That boded well for certain ideas. "I try never to stay despondent for longer an hour," she said. "It's hell on the complexion otherwise and really; who can afford to bad and sad nowadays?" "So who painted a bull's-eye on your back?" Oksana asked. "You don't look much like an easy target, if you don't mind my saying so." Charlie smirked. Whatever she was, whatever she happened upon earlier that day, at least Oksana was amusing. “Family. You know how that is,” she laughed, dipping below the bar for a moment to get a clean dishrag. She began wiping up a little bit of spill that she’d suddenly noticed. “But luckily none of them are here,” Charlie added with a grin and pushed the cloth back under the bar. “But typically I’m not.” She could take care of herself, or at least she thought she could. One’s own confidence in that didn’t always meet with reality, but she wasn’t going to admit that. "Don't have many of mine around the island either. Aside from – " Oksana twirled her glass. "The one not talking to me. And that's less of a relation and more of a responsibility. Three floors and a basement of responsibility to be precise." She emptied the glass and set it on the bar in clear invitation for a refill. "I mean, you'd think it's like riding a bicycle but what to do you when the bicycle runs away before you can ask its problem. Don't you think?" “Three floors and a basement? Do you run an orphanage?” Charlie teased just moments before the empty glass stood in front of her. She pulled out that same bottle and swished the dark amber into the glass, pulling it back when it was full enough. “I think you’re going to have to get more specific.” She got the gist. Someone who was her responsibility was having an issue and refusing the help Oksana was offering, or at least going to offer. “This person kind of sounds like a pain in the ass, but then again, who isn’t a pain in the ass?” she grinned knowingly. There would be a lot of people who’d say that about her and she had some measure of pride in it. Life would be immensely typical without somebody to ‘rock the boat.’ She eyed Oskana gently for a moment and leaned down, hand on the bar. "Yes on the pain, no on the person." Oksana picked up the glass with a nod of thanks. "It's my house, you see," she said. "Or, at least, what should be my house. Blasted pile of stones and nonsense decided to hide itself rather than let me take up residence. It's been gone for a month now." "That's the trouble with raising oodles of Enchanters at the same address since the first one landed here," Oksana explained. "The place soaks up energy and turns semi-sentient. And let me assure you: semi-sentient is just enough to fully frustrating." “You’re joking right?” It seemed impossible, a house to turn sentient, to hide from her, but then again this place was crazy in a way that was inexplicable. Turning her head to the side, Charlie tried to decide if she believed her or not. Almost immediately, she found that she did. “Holy shit though. Why in the hell would it be hiding from you?” Did it like being alone? Did it not like new people? Charlie almost wanted to laugh, but instead she just smiled, biting the tip of her tongue quite literally until it passed. “You have to realize that’s kind of hilarious...on the other side.” Then she laughed and bit her lip. “That really sucks though. So you’ve had to stay at the Satyr?” she guessed. "Less joking and more surviving," Oksana said piteously. "It wouldn't be – okay, this would be annoying no matter what. But it wouldn't be quite so aggravating if I could communicate with the dumb shack." She slumped down again. "Creating the means to do so is a bloody enterprise, though. I mean I can build it but collecting the materials – agh. You'd need, like, a Fae-level magical donation, then days of really finicky prep work, and then you'd still need to find a magical element to serve as a means of persuasion. The whole thing is like – " Oksana waved her hands " – like assembling a Prius out of Miller cans." Oksana rolled the ball of her thumb over the whiskey glass' lip. Despite the drooping shoulders, she looked sorely amused by her own troubles. "And accomplishing all this while you're being traumatized by your landlord's fashion sense every morning doesn't speed things along." Charlie burst out laughing at that. How could she not? She pictured something to the effect of weird clashing of colors and patterns, like people did during those stupid high school spirit weeks rather than just boring prep. “You have to live with your landlord? Yikes.” She decided then and there to give Oksana something on the house. ‘Next one’s on me for that,” she promised and gave her head a shake. But then Oksana’s words from before that popped back in her head, forming when they fully hadn’t registered the first time. “Persuasion, you say? I mean, I can’t do fae magic, but I bet you could get someone to help you with that part. I wonder if that’d work on a house,” she thought out loud, clicking her teeth together. “I might be able to help with the persuasion part, if you do happen to figure out the rest of it?” Charlie offered, a little reluctantly, but enough of her excitement to stretch her powers was coming out that it was barely noticeable within the noise of the bar. Oksana felt the happy, spiritually-nourishing glow of a hook well-baited. “Could you?” she said happily. Oksana pulled back slightly, tilting her head to better examine Charlie. “Wait, wait, don’t tell me...sea-born, right? Gotta be with that hair and skin. I honestly don’t know how a species native to salt water manages to put every Korean face treatment I’ve wasted my money on to shame, agh.” “I’d pay, of course,” Oksana added. “Less than fifteen minutes of your time and you’d have a week’s wages. “ She looked around at the bar. “Or two weeks. Including tips.” Charlie couldn’t help but beam at that. She was young, for even a human, but she also knew she was gorgeous Her hair was one of her best features, but Oksana had a nice mane herself. Which was probably the second time she thought that through the conversation. “Bingo,” she said with a wink. “Siren.” With the whole no-roommate thing, money definitely piqued her interest. Single girl out on her own for the first time. Why wouldn’t it? “I could do that.” If it helped both of them. Scratch each other’s backs, figuratively of course. “What would I have to do?” “You know that scene in the Little Mermaid when the witch puts her voice in a shell? Because it’s nothing like that.” Oksana held up her hands as if warding off an unseen protest. “Seriously, before you hear any sort of backstreet horror stories about how Enchanters collect…” Reaching into her purse, Oksana took out what looked like a mother of pearl card case</a> and opened it to reveal a collection of very thin glass slides, like something stolen out from under a microscope. That is, if you could find a lab that embossed its slides with frosted flowers. “All you have to do is keep it in hand when you sing comme une Sirène,” Oksana said, wrapping one of slides in a napkin. “Ten minutes should be enough, though I’ll gladly take a longer infusion if on offer. But really that’s all there is to it. You sing, glass collects, I pay.” “The glass collects,” Charlie looked down at it. If she hadn’t said that little mermaid quip, Charlie still would have thought it. This wouldn’t take her voice though, this wouldn’t do anything but get the woman into her house. Not Ursula or Vanessa, she thought with a silent laugh. How did she even remember that? It’d been probably fifteen years since she’d seen that movie against her parents wishes. They weren’t fond of any media portails of anything remotely close to their kind, be it a light-hearted disney movie or not. She’d been just as rebellious at nine as she was now. “I hope you’re telling me the truth,” Charlie looked up at her, staring for a long second to see if she could tell or not. More often than not, Charlie was a trusting person. People didn’t usually lie to her, except maybe guys trying to get a little action, but other than that, she hadn’t usually had a problem. Still, something about it seemed so easy, but easy didn’t mean bad, did it? No. It didn’t hurt anything that the glass was pretty. It wasn’t as if she had anyone to ask if everything was on the up and up anyway. Ten minutes wouldn’t be so bad. “This is pretty cool,” she nodded toward it. "You're welcome to ask around the island," Oksana said helpfully. "My father was the Summerview resident Enchanter for decades; he collected donations from many. You'd have no difficulty verifying the safety of the procedure." Never mind that a dragon could eat you in one sitting or a witch could set your head on fire, people always turned wary when they thought of their magic being "collected." Some days Oksana seriously considered sponsoring some kind of PSA. Smiling a little, Oksana took out another slide and closed her hand around it. A brief flex of concentration and – she opened her palm to in the slide now replaced by a little glass charm: a martini glass no bigger than a thumbnail. There was a tiny C attached to the glass’ lip. Oksana offered the charm to Charlie with a smile. “Just a little reminder.” That did make her feel better, she had to admit. The fact that this woman offered to let her ask around. She didn’t know she only had a few people even to ask, but there were definitely a few. Charlie took the charm readily and looked it over. “That’s amazing,” she said before she even looked up from it. She’d have to put it on some sort of bracelet. Her own powers were cool, but she did sometimes wish she could do things a few others could do. Call it ‘Grass is greener’ syndrome. Even so, she did love her own powers. “Thanks,” she said and lightly shifted the slide in her other hand. “I can do it soon.” Even on her lunch break really. “Singing my song in front of the whole bar might actually get me in trouble with boss man,” she said with a smirk. |