Marguerite Blakeney is clearly beyond scruples (blazeinhereyes) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2017-08-19 17:30:00 |
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The Hanged Man was really quite a throwback to ye olden days of shared tables laden with stale bread and porridge, straw on the floor and body odour, wasn’t it? Don’t forget the rat droppings in the whiskey!
Well. It was true, the ambiance was certainly there - but in the modern age, an establishment meant to invoke a feeling of old times passed could certainly be much cleaner. Family-run and warm, inviting, a gem in Anaheim that catered to those who wanted something just a bit different than the House of Mouse, which was right next door for all intents and purposes.
Hung lanterns and candles, tankards full of ale (they made it in-house like they did everything else), gruit (made from herbs or plants besides hops), cider and mead. Drinks brought to the tables (usually by Bethany or Carver), rustic food (Otik’s spiced potatoes courtesy of the departed Tas, poutine, beer-battered onion rings, fried pickles - sometimes they’d even have things like beef and Guinness stew or bangers and mash, until they ran out that is). The barman acting as bouncer, a brewery out back and a cellar for storage. Even a fireplace to rest your hairy hobbit feet by!
Every night was busy, that was just the way it happened to be. Bela was bustling to and fro, since there was a special on chocolate stout pudding with a beer whipped cream - delicious, and in a moment she’d have to erase the advert scrawled on the chalkboard because they were about to run out. She’d lost count of how many she made and served up in a large wine glass, though the tips were quite good tonight. Could be the low-cut corset top too; bouncy tits on display always made for a little extra cash, eh?
But she did her best to provide amazing customer service. When she saw a redhead come up to the bar, Bela was a homing pigeon and right there. “Hello, luv!” she greeted cheerfully, setting down a cocktail napkin. “Know what you want, or are you looking for recommendations?”
Following the performance that evening, Marguerite had been planning to meet up with the actor who had played Tiernan when they’d been in The Pirate Queen back in April and May. So of course they had chosen The Hanged Man for where they’d meet up. It had been a debate between there and the Court of Miracles because of the similar feel but between the unexplained closed nature of the Court and The Hanged Man being more in line with the show they’d been in together, the choice was pretty obvious. Of course as she walked in, she got a text saying that something had come up and could they reschedule.
Well. She was already here and Percy was working late that night anyway so why not get a drink anyway? It could be said that drinking alone was sad, but it wasn’t as if she were planning on drinking to forget anything or brood. It had been a good performance (each one was, though) so why not celebrate some?
Smiling as the woman behind the bar greeted her, Marguerite paused for a moment to see if she knew what she wanted, which… she didn’t.
“Looking for a recommendation.”
“Well, let’s see!” Isabela leaned an arm on the bartop, complete with booty pop at the back and her cups running over at the front. She did enjoy redheads, and this one was quite aesthetically pleasing. “If you want a good, strong beer? Go with the Rat Droppings, it’s our home-brewed ale. Dark, a bit sweet, kind of like drinking liquid bread if that’s your thing. If you want something fruity, I recommend either the Sparkly Balls with pomegranate liquor or the Lady Man Hands - it’s tequila and raspberry, so it’s got some bite to it,” she advised.
But it was in honour of Aveline, also a ginger - and Bela kind of missed the no nonsense way about her, yet how she’d get so flustered when the discussion of Dominic bending her over a basin came up. Plus, their frienemy barbs. Oh, those were the days!
“Or,” Bela leaned closer, taking a conspiratorial, sneaky glance around. “We’ve got the chocolate stout pudding with beer whipped cream. It’s almost gone but if you wanted to treat yourself? I’ll rustle one up just for you, love.” Honestly, that would be Bela’s choice - it was more a dessert than a drink but it was a nice way to wind down after a long workday (or drown in while lamenting a breakup or something, she didn’t judge).
There was always something very amusing about the names that people came up with for drinks, and here was no different. It was also why asking for recommendations tended to be a good plan. When the names were so creative, some insight tended to be a good thing even if you could look at a drink menu and see what was involved.
While initially planning for something fruity, the way the chocolate stout pudding was being described? It would be a crime if she turned it down.
“Well, when you put it that way, I think the only proper choice is the chocolate stout pudding.” And it did sound good and it wasn’t like she’d mess up her voice or anything from it. Marguerite well knew proper voice care techniques so she wasn’t too worried. She wasn’t going to be singing or performing until the next day anyway.
Such a great decision! Isabela couldn’t blame her, really. Chocolate was pretty much grand all year round, for any occasion. “Coming right up,” she winked. “And you’re right, it is the only proper choice.”
It didn’t take her long to prepare the concoction, serving it up in its deep wine glass - with a spoon, of course. They weren’t heathens here. But then she officially erased the special from the chalkboard, probably to the detriment of depressed bar-goers this evening. Boooo.
“Here you are, the last one too,” she slid the glass toward her very pretty customer. “I’m Isabela, by the way! Co-owner. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before? I’d have remembered a face like that.” Such a flirt - she was a dirty pirate but married, so therefore harmless. Mostly. Unless you got on her bad side (though that was a different kind of harm caused, admittedly).
Laughing some, Marguerite settled in where she was now that she had put forth her order. Nor was she disappointed when she saw the serving size.
“Now I just feel special. Marguerite and thank you.” She was used to flirtation and could respond in kind or just roll with it. Mostly depended on her mood and the way of the conversation.
“Though this is my first time here. I was in a production of The Pirate Queen a few months ago, however I never got around to coming here during that run.”
“The Pirate Queen!” Now that had certainly grabbed Isabela’s attention. “Bloody hell, that story was made with me in mind,” she shared, pouring herself a bit of dark rum to sip on - it was her favourite, one of them, and she was inspired. Besides, drinking it made her feel like she was out on her boat with the sun on her face and the sea breeze breathed deep into her lungs. “I was a pirate in another life, you know. Even had dreams about it.”
It might sound endearingly crazy, or it might make sense - could easily be written off as a joke too, considering they were in a pub and everyone was drunk. But with Bela, it was true. “‘Course, they called me the Queen of the Eastern Seas then.” Self-imposed nickname, yet quite fitting - she’d been all over the place, staking her claim and commanding unruly sailors as a woman in a time where that sort of thing was unheard of, “Did you play the role of the Pirate Queen herself?” she asked.
Trying some of the chocolate stout pudding (it was definitely worth taking the recommendation), Marguerite laughed in amusement at the comment.
“I could have sworn you said your name was Isabela and not Grace O’Malley.” Not that there had only been one pirate queen, but she could enjoy the comment. And while many might think it was drink talking or the like, Marguerite understood right away what Isabela was talking about.
That explained why she had seemed familiar in the back of her mind. She had probably seen her on the network.
“Quite the impressive name. And I was indeed the Pirate Queen herself.”
Isabela hadn’t actually seen that show, but she was sure that there were some similarities between her and the pirate queen featured (but no doubt Bela had bigger tits, that was just a given). She was certainly a pirate queen, and wore that badge of honour proudly. “That’s fantastic, any attention paid to women in piracy is alright in my book,” she grinned, lifting her glass in a toast.
“So you’re an actress, then? I thought your name sounded familiar!” Yes, she was certain she’d heard of a Marguerite on the network as well - it wasn’t a very common name, after all. Well, that was just a bonus, meeting another person who happened to experience the dreams of another life. They were often difficult to explain to outsiders. “You must have some swashbuckling skills too, to play a pirate.”
It wouldn’t surprise Marguerite, there seemed to be a lot of similarities in stories. So if there were some between what Isabela had dreamt and The Pirate Queen, well, so it would be. Raising her glass in toast, the actress smiled and nodded, “It was quite the production and a good one at that.”
Though Marguerite rarely found fault in any of the productions she ended up in. Everyone worked hard, and put forth an amazing story.
“I am. Primarily stage.” There had been those TV stints while she’d be in New York between Gentleman’s Guide and Waitress before she’d gone to France to perform, but the stage would always be her love. She was just lucky that Percy knew he would have to share that love. “I like to think that I do.”
“I’m a dagger sort of lady myself,” Bela shared with a laugh, and it was true - rogues were sly, stealthy; you could never be sure just how many knives they carried on their person at one time. Her prized Thedosian daggers were upstairs in her and Hawke’s flat, and they weren’t exactly small - finely crafted, she wore them on her back by her shoulder so they were easy to grab from their carrier. “But I do love swords and rapiers too. There’s nothing like the craftsmanship of a fine blade, a sword tailored just for you.”
Mmm. Got her all hot and bothered just thinking about it. Though she’d not met many actresses in her day - must be a fun career too, getting to play different roles and step into different shoes. “What do you do in your spare time, when you’re not on stage?” Isabela wanted to know. “You don’t happen to sail, do you?” The girl was a swashbuckler, maybe a sailor also? Two for two?
“I mean if we’re being technical, I fight with whatever I have near me. Though I do know how to use a rapier very well. Especially the one that showed up one night thanks to this place we call home.” Between dreams, fight choreography and Armand, it was just something she had picked up. And it was why it wasn’t the most peculiar thing that she would bring the rapier she received from her dreams to the theatre. Just to be safe in case she needed to fight things.
One of the things Marguerite had always enjoyed about the theatre was being able to portray stories that resonated and be these different people. It certainly helped for the work she did for Natasha. Though for her it was never just ‘being someone else’, but finding their truths and telling the story. Of giving people an escape for a few hours, of putting her heart and soul into the art. Of course, it wasn’t all she did.
“I volunteer a lot at different women’s shelters or LGBT shelters.” She wanted to help those who needed it. So when she wasn’t in rehearsal or performances, she liked to give back and help those who needed it. “I can’t say that I do.”
Isabela laughed, a devious and delighted sound. “Oh, now that’s what I like to hear - fighting with wherever’s near you. That sort of thing’s necessary around here quite a bit, innit?” she asked rhetorically. Because, well, clearly. They both lived here, they knew what it was like. It wasn’t even so long ago that Bela was fending off a crazy possessed mage from her home. Who knew what would be next.
“Volunteering! Now that’s something I ought to do more of,” Bela sloshed her remaining rum in her glass, thinking. Greedy pirates didn’t really believe in such things - but she had always danced to the beat of her own drum, with her own moral code. “Alright, here we go. You give me some names of shelters that could use more help, and I’ll give you a sailing lesson one day - if you’re ever interested, but you never know, you may play the part of a sailor someday. And my boat is fabulous.”
She was always looking to take people out on Lady Sunshine for a good time. Such beauty should not be wasted.
“It really is. I can bring my rapier with me whenever I like, but sometimes you just have to go with whatever it is you have at your disposal.” Growing up as she had in the dreams had made that all too clear. Not that she minded, her life had been her own and that was what mattered. It had formed her. Add in Orange County and all that came over from different dreams? It was survival.
“I am sure your boat is fabulous. But I think that is something we can definitely do.” Because getting more help for the different shelters was always a good thing and well, Marguerite was intrigued about learning how to sail.
“Grand! Here’s my number.” Isabela scrawled her digits and email address on a cocktail napkin, then of course left a nice, bright red lipstick kiss print on it as well - just so Marguerite wouldn’t forget who gave it to her, you see. “I’ll probably bring my ball and chain, feel free to bring anyone too. I like a party, and the more the merrier,” she beamed.
Not that she had to tell anyone she would be volunteering, oh no, of course not. Her good deeds were best not making a fuss over because feelings and blah.
“Alright, I better get back to work - but don’t forget to send me those names, alright?” It was always nice to run into people while working - new, interesting people at that. Owning a pub really was her cup of spiked tea.
Smiling as she took the napkin, Marguerite nodded.
“I’ll have to make sure that Percy is available then.” Because really, she had a feeling her boyfriend would enjoy learning how to sail, assuming he didn’t know already between his life plus dreams.
“It was nice talking with you, I’ll definitely get those names to you.” Watching Isabela go back to work, Marguerite finished her drink and placed both the tab and tip under the glass before gathering her things to head back home for the night.
All in all, it had been a good night.