[Evaly] Redwood of a man offering free drinks. Score.
RL Date: 4/1/10
IC Date: 5/12/22
Market, Ista Weyr(#916RJ)
Clustered around the path leading between the beach and the jungle stands a diamond of eight wooden stalls, two to a side. Staffed by a kaleidoscope of Istans from around the island, the market features a changing array of local products from ubiquitous shell jewelry to season-conscious umbrellas and surfboards. It's Buyer Beware, though: the quality of the products varies, but then again so does the quality of salesmanship, and it's just as likely to find a overvalued rip-off as an underpriced treasure.
Open to the air when the weather is good, the market has several tools at its disposal to deal with less genial conditions. The round pit in the center of the stalls, which visitors may choose to skirt or gather around, can be used for a small bonfire on the rare cold days. A big, heavy stretch of oilcloth and a thinner gauze material have been bundled up and nailed to the trees just behind the market, ready to be stretched out for shelter or shade on days that are too rainy or too hot.
Ah what a day at the market. People are milling around. Canines are barking and yapping and there's a few shouts from venors selling their wares to the visitors coming through. Munching on a long stick peirced by strips of meat, Candlario strolls away from one of the umbrella stands with a smirk and small head-shake.
Evaly's not doing a tremendous amount of business today, to tell the truth. Partially, it's because her stall seems particularly empty compared to all the doings around her, no glitters to catch the eye, no bright-and-sparklies to draw people over. As such, she's sitting on the counter on the outside of her stall, feet dangling toward the ground, watching all the commerce around her without much effort to lure people over. "I'd be worried I was eating canine, personally," she calls casually, raising her voice so it carries toward the tall fella with the meat-stick.
Candlario looks up from looking over the surf-board vendor with a particular interest and blinks hard at Evaly and her statement. "What?" He looks sharply to the stick of meat and back to her before changing his direction and coming closer, "canine? You can't be serious." A dirty look is thrown over towards the vendor he came from not so long ago.
Hands folded around the front edge of her counter, Evaly leans forward to put her weight on her arms a little, like she needs a closer look at the mystery meat. "I said--" she starts to answer that 'what,' but he seems to have figured it out, and she shrugs almost helplessly. "Don't I look serious?" she offers in response, her expression every bit sober, though her eyes do have a telltale glitter to them. "Does it taste like canine, do you think?"
Candlario holds the stick up just under his nose and gives it a sniff-sniff and then grunts. "I don't know. Doesn't taste like the last canine I ate." Countered with a sly twinkle in his eyes. "But I was -sold- wherry-strips in sweet-spicy glaze. I guess that glaze could mask just about anything eh?"
"Maybe the last one you ate was one of those big, hairy, herding types, and that one's one of the little, rat-chasing types," Evaly suggests helpfully, one hand extended toward the stick of meat like she could help identify it if it came a little closer, maybe? "Wherry in a sweet-spicy glaze sounds delicious. Terrier in a sweet-spicy glaze, though... I'm not so sure." Her other hand teeters uncertainly before it clamps back to the edge of the counter, helping her pitched-forward balance not to surrender.
Candlario's chuckle is a rumbling sound as he pulls off a bit of the roasted meat goodness. He offers it out to the girl with a chuckle, "I don't know. Have a bite and tell me what you think." He bites off another chunk of it and chews while waiting to see if the girl will take the slice from his fingers.
Evaly will indeed take the bite, with all the alacrity of a person who expected the offer to be on its way. "Not that I'm a canine-eater as a general rule, mind you, but who am I to turn down a free lunch, right?" She gives it a delicate sniff, like that proves anything, and takes a dainty little bite off the corner, chewing thoughtfully for a lot longer than a nibble requires. "Definitely not a working dog. Perhaps one of those little fluffy, well-groomed canines that Lady Holders like to keep as pets. You know, the ones that sit on silk pillows and eat pate`."
Candlario smirks, "that bit is hardly a lunch. Unless your starving." His eyes flicker over her shoulder to see what she's selling, as though that might explain her need to lighten someone else's lunch. "Well, regardless of what it is. It's better than backside-of-feline. And it's not bad anyway. Sure hope someone isn't missing fluffy." Another bite and following silence a moment, "what is it you sell?"
Evaly, at the backside-of-feline, looks up over the bite she's nursing; "Do you eat that too, then? Adventurous palate, yours is." Deciding it's safe, or she's just that hungry, she pops the rest of it into her mouth, chews it up happily, and follows Candlario's look over her shoulder at the mostly empty shelves behind her, only a few earthenware jars and a couple of cheap-looking jewelry boxes. "Today? Today, I sell very little, but if you happen to be in the market for some lovely shell jewelry or perfume..." She looks him over from head to foot, brightens a smile, and answers herself with, "Probably not the perfume in your case."
Candlario smirks, just a fraction and focuses on Evaly again, "I am always up for an adventure. Ever had pickled eggs? Very good, but you need some hot pepper to go with it. Wash down the pickle and the sting of vinigar." So saying he takes another bite and looks over the empty shelves. "can't say I'm in the market for anything. But I have some product I'm looking to sell. You have empty space...." his voice fades off, "but surely you don't run this spot."
"No. Ew." Evaly tries to give the imaginary taste of it a fair shot, but her tongue sticks out despite herself and she shakes her head hurriedly. "I tried pickled okra one time at a Gather, it didn't do it for me." She rubs her hands together briskly, pretends to dust away the remnants of the sweet sauce on the dog/wherry, and then puts them back to the edge of the counter. "Why surely not? Shouldn't the particularly barren shelves be a sign of how good I am at moving the goods?"
Candlario shakes his head, "okra is better fried up and seasoned just right. Washed down with a good thick beer." He pats his stomach, full of canine-meat. Maybe. "So, you have empty shelves and are awaiting new product. I guess you wouldn't need any new goods." He glances around at the other vendors that seem rather busy and looks back at her shelves, "missing a chance at a mark though."
One hand on the end of her nose, the other pointing to Candlario, Evaly does the classic 'on the nose' gesture when he talks of fried okra; "Exactly the same way I feel about eggs. With potatoes and toast, too." Leaning to one side, she again follows his glance toward the bustling business doing all around them. Then, "All right, I'll bite. What is this product you're looking to sell, big guy?" A slow grin gets the better of her before she adds, "Product so hot that you're pimping it to the only slow booth in business today."
Candlario gives a short laugh as she sizes him up, or perhaps more so at pinning him as pimping. He brushes knuckles over the front of his vest, "we're just talking." He says smoothly, "I'm a business man...it doesn't pay to not think of everything that goes with it. And you say 'soap' and I wonder if you're making it yourself. I deal in spices and herbals. Just figured it could be a good fit. That's all."
"Making soap? I think that requires skills that I don't possess." Thus far, Evaly's skills seem limited to 'easy conversation' and 'looking pretty.' Neither of which produces the soapy kind of rich lather. "But I might know someone who would be interested in taking it off your hands. I could probably fence it for you, if you're looking to get rid of it quickly." Up goes an eyebrow, and that sizing-up look pins him one more time when she adds, "You are looking to get rid of it quickly, right? Or else you'd probably be setting up shop yourself, I'm guessing."
Candlario leans against the stall lazily, not the best for other people wandering by since he gives quite a few the dead-eye look before grinning an aside to Evaly, "haven't decided yet. Sold some to the bakers, some to a few of the bars." Jerking a thumb back towards the beach. "I have a few mixes already made up...good home remidies and tonics. Makes your hair shine and your skin glow. Anyway, I didn't know what Ista had to offer and how folks are handling themselves before I dive in."
Evaly grips her fingers on the counter till her knuckles whiten, making a show of clinging while she watches Candlario lean against the post like that. "Is the pole holding you up, or you're holding it up, do you think?" The rest of his answer has her foregoing the act, her head cocked to one side, ear tilted in his direction expectantly. "That wasn't really an answer, handsome. Do you want someone to fence your goods? Because I'm happy to do so, but I can't really put things in my booth directly, I'm afraid."
Candlario draws back, very slowly and he checks to see that he's no knocking things over, "no harm done. Easy there." Grinning he lifts his shoulders, "the product is clean." He crinkles his nose slightly and then gives a shake of his head. "you're welcome to come to the ship and speak to my book keeper. I've got all the papers in order."
"Good for you," Evaly says brightly about the cleanliness of the goods, her feet swinging out and back again to knock the counter under her legs, like she's just double-checking the structural integrity of the booth after Candlario's lean against it. "But that doesn't change the fact that I can't sell it for you. Sorry, but my dad would-- well, let's just say that being skewered and roasted with a spicy-sweet sauce would probably be preferable to his reaction if he found out." A hand goes out then for a shake, gentlemanly, and she adds, "Does the great mountain of a man have a name, though? In case I come across someone who might be interested, I can send them your way."
Candlario rolls his eyes, "I am so pleased that you approve." He takes the extended hand. "I'm Candlario, of Driftwood Bay. Sounds like Ista is a whole lot more exciting than my uncle led me to believe. He thought it was all wild gossip." He even helps correct the slight lean to one of the posts-or at least makes a show of it. "And I can't go asking about 'the spitfire-at-the-empty-booth' either can I? At least not with any luck of finding you. You know, in case I had an extra beer to share."
"One more time?" Evaly requests at the offering of his name, her head cocked in the same questioning way again. "That's a mouthful." So says, "Evaly. Of Ista Hold. Though 'spitfire at the empty booth' does have a nice ring to it. Unfortunately, I expect to be restocked in the next day or two, so you may confuse people like that." She gives that hand a quick shake, then puts hers back to the counter where it evidently belongs. "Do you regularly have extra beers to share? Because we could be friends if that's the case."
"Rio is fine, if you can't get your mouth around the bigger name." The man can't help but add a cheesy wink to the end of that. "Pleasure to meet you Evaly. Spitfire Evaly. How's that? That way there's no mistake." Drawing back he dusts his hands together, "as to the extra beers....sometimes. More often it's the hard stuff, but it's not stuff for a girl to enjoy."
Evaly, with a brief laugh, "To differentiate from all the other Evalys? That's considerate of you, Rio." She'll stick to that one, thanks. "Though I'm sort of boggled that you actually just insinuated that girls don't enjoy hard liquor. Is there some reason, aside from the blatantly sexist one, that I might be opposed to real drinks?" She puts on her best listening face, her best 'explain yourself, young man' expression, one that fails to match the whole 'has to look well up to meet his eyes' issue.
Candlario ticks off on his thick fingers, "you told me earlier that your father would have you spit-roasted like a canine for selling my goods...I hardly think getting you drunk on my good booze is going to make me fast friends with him. And second, most women don't like the hard stuff and end up coughing it up and then need a fresh fruity blended thing. And third, we're not good enough friends for me to know if you're not one of 'those' girls. You let me eat canine." HE sniffs, wiping at an eye.
Evaly counts along with him, one, two, three, "Fourth, making sweeping generalizations like 'not stuff for a /girl/ to enjoy' isn't the best way to get to be good enough friends to find out that kind of thing." But she has to grin at the last, though she turns her face down like she's suddenly found her dangling feet fascinating, like that hides the bright expression. "To be fair, I also took a nibble of it, and I'd have relieved you of the whole skewer if you'd have offered it. Really, I ought to be the one wiping at tears. This redwood of a man gives a poor little girl but a nibble while he has a feast? Bad form, sir, bad form, indeed."
Candlario snickers and crosses his arms over his broad chest now and gives a rather boyish roll of his eyes. "You poor little spitfire. All but wasting away. Skin and bones." He motions with his hand. "You are stuck there working. I can't offer you beer or booze or food and hope to have a real conversation with you. Someone might want to see...ah..." he scans the shelves and points to a bar of soap, "a display of how great your soap is."
"Because all the business I've had while you've been here is a good indicator of how hopping I'm likely to get, huh?" Evaly looks beyond Candlario now, to the people milling around, buying things from booths with actual stuff to sell. Occasionally, someone might glance her way, but the combination of her sitting on the counter and Candlario-- well, existing in the general vicinity seems to turn them off pretty quickly. "If you offered me free liquor, I might stop trying to convince myself I'm doing any business today."
Candlario rubs a thumb along one of the long scars on his cheek and gives a sly look to a visiting hold lass who actually drops the basket of brikbrak she was looking at. "Huh..." Turning back to Evaly he lets his arms drop from his chest, "Well, free liquor /and/ food. Ooo. I won't even invite you to the ship...so you'll fee safe." Because he's so safe in public right? "There's this place along the beach that's real fine."
Evaly snaps her fingers in the air in between herself and Candlario, as if to arrest his attention from the girl with the basket. "Hey, don't scare the potential customers, you terrifying giant. That girl might have wanted to buy..." She trails off, looks over her shoulder, fails to come up with something the girl might have wanted. "Anyway. I could go for a drink and a snack, if you can give me ten minutes to close up shop." Another glance over her shoulder; "Five minutes."
Candlario chuckles, "she'll have to buy that basket she dropped." He adds, oh so cheerily. "Ah, go on then, but don't have to get yourself all fancy for me. You look great as you are." And he spares a moment or two to oggle for her benifit too.
Evaly ignores the oggling, or doesn't notice it. Likely it's more the former, since 'subtle' seems to be a lost art. Hopping off the counter, she shoos Candlario away with a quick wave of her hands, busy pulling down her few wares and stuffing them in a canvas case, which can then be folded up and toted around with her. "I'll leave the real closing up for later, but I don't care for the idea of being robbed blind while I'm having drinks," she explains during this process.
Candlario turns away when his oggling gets no reponse. Some women are such killjoys. His eyes trail towards the surfboards again but he ignores the kid trying to wave him over to check out the fine length of surf-goodness. "Yeah, coming back completely empty wouldn't be a good way to end the day. Or start it. Depending on how the drinks treat you."
Evaly finishes up with a brow-quirky glance toward the monstrous fellow, commenting, "You assume I can't hold my liquor. You assume a lot of things." She's a tsk shy of chiding, shouldering her sack of goodies and nodding toward the thick of the shopping crowd. "Lead the way, big guy. I have a feeling you're better at crowd control than I am." Yay, free booze~
Candlario smirks and he states, "you assume I'm not going to give you the kiddie cup of the stuff too." He reminds her with a tap against the side of his nose. "C'mon spitfire. Lets go get liquored up and do some singing."
IC Date: 5/12/22
Market, Ista Weyr(#916RJ)
Clustered around the path leading between the beach and the jungle stands a diamond of eight wooden stalls, two to a side. Staffed by a kaleidoscope of Istans from around the island, the market features a changing array of local products from ubiquitous shell jewelry to season-conscious umbrellas and surfboards. It's Buyer Beware, though: the quality of the products varies, but then again so does the quality of salesmanship, and it's just as likely to find a overvalued rip-off as an underpriced treasure.
Open to the air when the weather is good, the market has several tools at its disposal to deal with less genial conditions. The round pit in the center of the stalls, which visitors may choose to skirt or gather around, can be used for a small bonfire on the rare cold days. A big, heavy stretch of oilcloth and a thinner gauze material have been bundled up and nailed to the trees just behind the market, ready to be stretched out for shelter or shade on days that are too rainy or too hot.
Ah what a day at the market. People are milling around. Canines are barking and yapping and there's a few shouts from venors selling their wares to the visitors coming through. Munching on a long stick peirced by strips of meat, Candlario strolls away from one of the umbrella stands with a smirk and small head-shake.
Evaly's not doing a tremendous amount of business today, to tell the truth. Partially, it's because her stall seems particularly empty compared to all the doings around her, no glitters to catch the eye, no bright-and-sparklies to draw people over. As such, she's sitting on the counter on the outside of her stall, feet dangling toward the ground, watching all the commerce around her without much effort to lure people over. "I'd be worried I was eating canine, personally," she calls casually, raising her voice so it carries toward the tall fella with the meat-stick.
Candlario looks up from looking over the surf-board vendor with a particular interest and blinks hard at Evaly and her statement. "What?" He looks sharply to the stick of meat and back to her before changing his direction and coming closer, "canine? You can't be serious." A dirty look is thrown over towards the vendor he came from not so long ago.
Hands folded around the front edge of her counter, Evaly leans forward to put her weight on her arms a little, like she needs a closer look at the mystery meat. "I said--" she starts to answer that 'what,' but he seems to have figured it out, and she shrugs almost helplessly. "Don't I look serious?" she offers in response, her expression every bit sober, though her eyes do have a telltale glitter to them. "Does it taste like canine, do you think?"
Candlario holds the stick up just under his nose and gives it a sniff-sniff and then grunts. "I don't know. Doesn't taste like the last canine I ate." Countered with a sly twinkle in his eyes. "But I was -sold- wherry-strips in sweet-spicy glaze. I guess that glaze could mask just about anything eh?"
"Maybe the last one you ate was one of those big, hairy, herding types, and that one's one of the little, rat-chasing types," Evaly suggests helpfully, one hand extended toward the stick of meat like she could help identify it if it came a little closer, maybe? "Wherry in a sweet-spicy glaze sounds delicious. Terrier in a sweet-spicy glaze, though... I'm not so sure." Her other hand teeters uncertainly before it clamps back to the edge of the counter, helping her pitched-forward balance not to surrender.
Candlario's chuckle is a rumbling sound as he pulls off a bit of the roasted meat goodness. He offers it out to the girl with a chuckle, "I don't know. Have a bite and tell me what you think." He bites off another chunk of it and chews while waiting to see if the girl will take the slice from his fingers.
Evaly will indeed take the bite, with all the alacrity of a person who expected the offer to be on its way. "Not that I'm a canine-eater as a general rule, mind you, but who am I to turn down a free lunch, right?" She gives it a delicate sniff, like that proves anything, and takes a dainty little bite off the corner, chewing thoughtfully for a lot longer than a nibble requires. "Definitely not a working dog. Perhaps one of those little fluffy, well-groomed canines that Lady Holders like to keep as pets. You know, the ones that sit on silk pillows and eat pate`."
Candlario smirks, "that bit is hardly a lunch. Unless your starving." His eyes flicker over her shoulder to see what she's selling, as though that might explain her need to lighten someone else's lunch. "Well, regardless of what it is. It's better than backside-of-feline. And it's not bad anyway. Sure hope someone isn't missing fluffy." Another bite and following silence a moment, "what is it you sell?"
Evaly, at the backside-of-feline, looks up over the bite she's nursing; "Do you eat that too, then? Adventurous palate, yours is." Deciding it's safe, or she's just that hungry, she pops the rest of it into her mouth, chews it up happily, and follows Candlario's look over her shoulder at the mostly empty shelves behind her, only a few earthenware jars and a couple of cheap-looking jewelry boxes. "Today? Today, I sell very little, but if you happen to be in the market for some lovely shell jewelry or perfume..." She looks him over from head to foot, brightens a smile, and answers herself with, "Probably not the perfume in your case."
Candlario smirks, just a fraction and focuses on Evaly again, "I am always up for an adventure. Ever had pickled eggs? Very good, but you need some hot pepper to go with it. Wash down the pickle and the sting of vinigar." So saying he takes another bite and looks over the empty shelves. "can't say I'm in the market for anything. But I have some product I'm looking to sell. You have empty space...." his voice fades off, "but surely you don't run this spot."
"No. Ew." Evaly tries to give the imaginary taste of it a fair shot, but her tongue sticks out despite herself and she shakes her head hurriedly. "I tried pickled okra one time at a Gather, it didn't do it for me." She rubs her hands together briskly, pretends to dust away the remnants of the sweet sauce on the dog/wherry, and then puts them back to the edge of the counter. "Why surely not? Shouldn't the particularly barren shelves be a sign of how good I am at moving the goods?"
Candlario shakes his head, "okra is better fried up and seasoned just right. Washed down with a good thick beer." He pats his stomach, full of canine-meat. Maybe. "So, you have empty shelves and are awaiting new product. I guess you wouldn't need any new goods." He glances around at the other vendors that seem rather busy and looks back at her shelves, "missing a chance at a mark though."
One hand on the end of her nose, the other pointing to Candlario, Evaly does the classic 'on the nose' gesture when he talks of fried okra; "Exactly the same way I feel about eggs. With potatoes and toast, too." Leaning to one side, she again follows his glance toward the bustling business doing all around them. Then, "All right, I'll bite. What is this product you're looking to sell, big guy?" A slow grin gets the better of her before she adds, "Product so hot that you're pimping it to the only slow booth in business today."
Candlario gives a short laugh as she sizes him up, or perhaps more so at pinning him as pimping. He brushes knuckles over the front of his vest, "we're just talking." He says smoothly, "I'm a business man...it doesn't pay to not think of everything that goes with it. And you say 'soap' and I wonder if you're making it yourself. I deal in spices and herbals. Just figured it could be a good fit. That's all."
"Making soap? I think that requires skills that I don't possess." Thus far, Evaly's skills seem limited to 'easy conversation' and 'looking pretty.' Neither of which produces the soapy kind of rich lather. "But I might know someone who would be interested in taking it off your hands. I could probably fence it for you, if you're looking to get rid of it quickly." Up goes an eyebrow, and that sizing-up look pins him one more time when she adds, "You are looking to get rid of it quickly, right? Or else you'd probably be setting up shop yourself, I'm guessing."
Candlario leans against the stall lazily, not the best for other people wandering by since he gives quite a few the dead-eye look before grinning an aside to Evaly, "haven't decided yet. Sold some to the bakers, some to a few of the bars." Jerking a thumb back towards the beach. "I have a few mixes already made up...good home remidies and tonics. Makes your hair shine and your skin glow. Anyway, I didn't know what Ista had to offer and how folks are handling themselves before I dive in."
Evaly grips her fingers on the counter till her knuckles whiten, making a show of clinging while she watches Candlario lean against the post like that. "Is the pole holding you up, or you're holding it up, do you think?" The rest of his answer has her foregoing the act, her head cocked to one side, ear tilted in his direction expectantly. "That wasn't really an answer, handsome. Do you want someone to fence your goods? Because I'm happy to do so, but I can't really put things in my booth directly, I'm afraid."
Candlario draws back, very slowly and he checks to see that he's no knocking things over, "no harm done. Easy there." Grinning he lifts his shoulders, "the product is clean." He crinkles his nose slightly and then gives a shake of his head. "you're welcome to come to the ship and speak to my book keeper. I've got all the papers in order."
"Good for you," Evaly says brightly about the cleanliness of the goods, her feet swinging out and back again to knock the counter under her legs, like she's just double-checking the structural integrity of the booth after Candlario's lean against it. "But that doesn't change the fact that I can't sell it for you. Sorry, but my dad would-- well, let's just say that being skewered and roasted with a spicy-sweet sauce would probably be preferable to his reaction if he found out." A hand goes out then for a shake, gentlemanly, and she adds, "Does the great mountain of a man have a name, though? In case I come across someone who might be interested, I can send them your way."
Candlario rolls his eyes, "I am so pleased that you approve." He takes the extended hand. "I'm Candlario, of Driftwood Bay. Sounds like Ista is a whole lot more exciting than my uncle led me to believe. He thought it was all wild gossip." He even helps correct the slight lean to one of the posts-or at least makes a show of it. "And I can't go asking about 'the spitfire-at-the-empty-booth' either can I? At least not with any luck of finding you. You know, in case I had an extra beer to share."
"One more time?" Evaly requests at the offering of his name, her head cocked in the same questioning way again. "That's a mouthful." So says, "Evaly. Of Ista Hold. Though 'spitfire at the empty booth' does have a nice ring to it. Unfortunately, I expect to be restocked in the next day or two, so you may confuse people like that." She gives that hand a quick shake, then puts hers back to the counter where it evidently belongs. "Do you regularly have extra beers to share? Because we could be friends if that's the case."
"Rio is fine, if you can't get your mouth around the bigger name." The man can't help but add a cheesy wink to the end of that. "Pleasure to meet you Evaly. Spitfire Evaly. How's that? That way there's no mistake." Drawing back he dusts his hands together, "as to the extra beers....sometimes. More often it's the hard stuff, but it's not stuff for a girl to enjoy."
Evaly, with a brief laugh, "To differentiate from all the other Evalys? That's considerate of you, Rio." She'll stick to that one, thanks. "Though I'm sort of boggled that you actually just insinuated that girls don't enjoy hard liquor. Is there some reason, aside from the blatantly sexist one, that I might be opposed to real drinks?" She puts on her best listening face, her best 'explain yourself, young man' expression, one that fails to match the whole 'has to look well up to meet his eyes' issue.
Candlario ticks off on his thick fingers, "you told me earlier that your father would have you spit-roasted like a canine for selling my goods...I hardly think getting you drunk on my good booze is going to make me fast friends with him. And second, most women don't like the hard stuff and end up coughing it up and then need a fresh fruity blended thing. And third, we're not good enough friends for me to know if you're not one of 'those' girls. You let me eat canine." HE sniffs, wiping at an eye.
Evaly counts along with him, one, two, three, "Fourth, making sweeping generalizations like 'not stuff for a /girl/ to enjoy' isn't the best way to get to be good enough friends to find out that kind of thing." But she has to grin at the last, though she turns her face down like she's suddenly found her dangling feet fascinating, like that hides the bright expression. "To be fair, I also took a nibble of it, and I'd have relieved you of the whole skewer if you'd have offered it. Really, I ought to be the one wiping at tears. This redwood of a man gives a poor little girl but a nibble while he has a feast? Bad form, sir, bad form, indeed."
Candlario snickers and crosses his arms over his broad chest now and gives a rather boyish roll of his eyes. "You poor little spitfire. All but wasting away. Skin and bones." He motions with his hand. "You are stuck there working. I can't offer you beer or booze or food and hope to have a real conversation with you. Someone might want to see...ah..." he scans the shelves and points to a bar of soap, "a display of how great your soap is."
"Because all the business I've had while you've been here is a good indicator of how hopping I'm likely to get, huh?" Evaly looks beyond Candlario now, to the people milling around, buying things from booths with actual stuff to sell. Occasionally, someone might glance her way, but the combination of her sitting on the counter and Candlario-- well, existing in the general vicinity seems to turn them off pretty quickly. "If you offered me free liquor, I might stop trying to convince myself I'm doing any business today."
Candlario rubs a thumb along one of the long scars on his cheek and gives a sly look to a visiting hold lass who actually drops the basket of brikbrak she was looking at. "Huh..." Turning back to Evaly he lets his arms drop from his chest, "Well, free liquor /and/ food. Ooo. I won't even invite you to the ship...so you'll fee safe." Because he's so safe in public right? "There's this place along the beach that's real fine."
Evaly snaps her fingers in the air in between herself and Candlario, as if to arrest his attention from the girl with the basket. "Hey, don't scare the potential customers, you terrifying giant. That girl might have wanted to buy..." She trails off, looks over her shoulder, fails to come up with something the girl might have wanted. "Anyway. I could go for a drink and a snack, if you can give me ten minutes to close up shop." Another glance over her shoulder; "Five minutes."
Candlario chuckles, "she'll have to buy that basket she dropped." He adds, oh so cheerily. "Ah, go on then, but don't have to get yourself all fancy for me. You look great as you are." And he spares a moment or two to oggle for her benifit too.
Evaly ignores the oggling, or doesn't notice it. Likely it's more the former, since 'subtle' seems to be a lost art. Hopping off the counter, she shoos Candlario away with a quick wave of her hands, busy pulling down her few wares and stuffing them in a canvas case, which can then be folded up and toted around with her. "I'll leave the real closing up for later, but I don't care for the idea of being robbed blind while I'm having drinks," she explains during this process.
Candlario turns away when his oggling gets no reponse. Some women are such killjoys. His eyes trail towards the surfboards again but he ignores the kid trying to wave him over to check out the fine length of surf-goodness. "Yeah, coming back completely empty wouldn't be a good way to end the day. Or start it. Depending on how the drinks treat you."
Evaly finishes up with a brow-quirky glance toward the monstrous fellow, commenting, "You assume I can't hold my liquor. You assume a lot of things." She's a tsk shy of chiding, shouldering her sack of goodies and nodding toward the thick of the shopping crowd. "Lead the way, big guy. I have a feeling you're better at crowd control than I am." Yay, free booze~
Candlario smirks and he states, "you assume I'm not going to give you the kiddie cup of the stuff too." He reminds her with a tap against the side of his nose. "C'mon spitfire. Lets go get liquored up and do some singing."