[Evaly] Virtue and Sin's long-awaited dinner date.
RL Date: 4/3/10
IC Date: 5/18/22
The Even'Star, once a pretty little sloop in her time but many miles of seafaring and a hefty storm or two have taken their toll. For all that she paints a forlorn little picture moored alongside vessels of far greater scenic value, her deck at least is kept meticulously scrubbed down with everything neatly stowed away. Tonight a foldout table is placed on the decking of her aft section with a canvas slung chair on either side. A candle, used, judging by the puddle of cooled wax at its base has been set in the middle of the table, an overly large island flower its companion in a clay mug. The 'skipper' of this boat is nowhere to be seen, though sounds of someone moving about below decks are clearly audible to anyone coming aboard.
"I come bearing drinks!" Evaly calls from the docks, lifting one arm to show the corked bottle in her hand, letting its silhouette show against the slightly lighter sky. "And, if this isn't the right boat, I'm going to drink with whoever's on board, so... Sin?" There's a pause, her sandals still clapping against the wood of the docks until she's heading over the gang plank. "We probably ought to get to real names here shortly, I'm thinking."
Those opening words have Bailey appearing like a rabbit from out of its burrow. "Virtue!" a wide grin greets her guest as the rest of the brunette appears, a small lidded clay pot carefully cradled in cloth, carried in each hand. Moving toward where their 'dining' area has been set up she sets the two pots down. Next, fishing around in the pocket of the apron she's wearing, two forks are produced and set next to each pot. Short laughter meets Evaly's comment over names, "Oh I don't know, I rather like the one you've given me." The apron is untied and draped over a canvas chair as she tries very hard not to eye the booze the blonde has brought along with too much longing. "You don't like yours? Or is it that it doesn't sit very well?" sly the grin tacked on at the end.
Evaly lifts her chin to give the boat a little once over, turning in a circle to get a good look at the whole of it, finally saying, "Nice digs." Holding the neck on her end, she extends the bottle toward Bailey as the hostess, label up to show it's not a bad bit of white wine, probably cost her a fair few marks. "And Virtue's so apt it's almost scary, to tell you the truth, but people might get the wrong idea if I tell them that I've been having dinner with Sin."
Bailey's well aware of the sloop's failings and so the blonde's comment is accepted with a pleased smile, "Thanks. Its home, and its mine." The latter of which, is obviously important to her. The bottle being held out draws a lift of brow and an appreciative whistle, "You've got to tell me how you do it." Earning the marks that one afford such niceties. Hearty laughter breaks free for Evaly's last, "Not always a bad thing to keep people guessing. Keeps things...interesting don't you think?" She easily relents however and offers simply, "Bailey," by means of giving a proper name as she gestures toward one of the chairs, "Sit, take a load off and tell me who Virtue really is."
...that afford one such niceties...
"Do what? Afford good wine?" Evaly laughs brightly and points out, "I'm pretty and I sell things that men can give to their girlfriends. Generally speaking, it adds up to a pretty decent income." Dropping into the offered chair, she quirks a grin to agree with the bit about keeping people guessing, but still-- "Evaly. And I like that name. Bailey. It's better than the ones I picked for you, suiting. What are we eating, Bailey?"
"First you got to have something they want," Bailey points out then realizing how that might have sounded adds, "Aside from the obvious that is. Although that too can get a girl quite far if she knows how to play her cards right." Perhaps she deserves that non de plume after all. About to plop into her own chair she halts and a perplexed look crosses her face as she eyes the bottle of wine, "I ummm...there's no glasses," embarrassed at the confession. But then there's the distraction of what their evening faire consists of. With great aplomb she lifts the lid off of the clay pot before the blonde in a 'ta daaa' manner, "Herdbeast stew!" Like that's some kind of great achievement.
Aboard the Orchid Rain, The general buzz, or low-hum aboard the ship is rather lazy. A coupld deck hands are lounging above deck, hats over faces, their work apparently done for the day. Candlario comes out of the cabin, his white tunic open, his face not yet even shaved. In his hand he already has a glass and it looks like wine in there. Ah, good times. The lazy men are noted with a smirk and he doesn't bother calling out to them. Instead he heads over to the far side of the deck to watch the dock while he wakes up with some good hair-of-the-dog. Yumyum.
Evaly flips her hair back off the side of her neck, tossing it prettily to comment, "It's all about how you pitch it. A little spritz of perfume, the offer of a quick whiff for the poor oaf, and he suddenly thinks his girlfriend just has to have that specific bottle. Sometimes I feel bad about it. Other times..." She nods to the bottle of wine, illustrating what it's bought her so far, grin spreading to add, "We'll make do without the glasses, darling, though I /knew/ I should have brought the red." Herdbeast, red wine. "Aside from making a sumptuous smelling dinner, catching fish, and looking pretty-- what do you do, Bailey?" The goings-on aboard adjacent boats are largely lost to her, it being dark and her being chatty and all. Eventually, the white-tunic might get a glance, though!
Bailey's lips curl into a small smirk, "Or that specific girl." A roll of blue eyes up to the star studded night sky, "Why feel bad about it? If he's dumb enough to fall for the line then his marks are forfeit." Appeased by Evaly's words over the lack of glasses she drops down into her own chair and lifting the lid off of the pot in front of her to allow the steam to escape. A chuckle greets words over her apparent accomplishments, "You might want to taste it before you give it such a glowing report." There's a good few moments silence before she answers the question put to her, during which she allows her gaze to wander where it grazes over the Orchid Rain, lingers on the mountain of a man enjoying the evening air and returns back to the blonde. "Actually, I'm looking for a job in the markets until my cargo comes in," the upward lilt of her tone suggesting that she might be sending an enquiry for employment the other woman's way.
Aboard the Orchid Rain, Candlario can hear voices, not not particularly the words that are spoken. Besides, it's not his nature just to go roaring over to another ship while he's got wine to enjoy. He slumps forward against the railing, making himself comfortable with the glass beside him. He draws a pipe-flute from a back pocket and toys around with an uncomplicated little tune. One of those more popular sea songs though played with a slower tempo and a few octives lower, making it almost sad instead of lively.
Evaly starts to answer for why she might feel bad about it, but eventually settles with just a smile and a shrug, helpless to cope with her own conscience. Trusting Bailey to tend to the bottle of wine, she samples the fare with a big, confident bite, chewing it while she raises a brow at the implied enquiry. "I think my booth may be a little small for two, and I'm completely sold out of stock at the moment, but I could put the word out that you're in the market for the market, if you want?" Pipe music adds to the ambiance, and, after a rub of her stomach to assure she's pretty keen on the stew, she adds, "A serenade to boot, you just pulled out all the stops, Sin!"
And Bailey does just that, uncorking the bottle she takes an appreciative sniff of the contents then angles it Evaly's way to claim first sampling. Thus far her own food remains untouched however she watches with keen interest as her dining companion takes a bite and pronounces it edible. Settling back in her chair and lacing fingers together over a bared stomach, the brunette nods in acceptance, "Fair enough. I'd appreciate your putting the word out. Until then I'll just keep on doing what I have been." Whatever that may be. On the melancholy melody floating out across the water, she wrinkles her nose, "Pity it has to sound like a death dirge." Straightening up a little she calls out loudly, "Ahoy there, Orchid Rain. Either play something a girl can excited about or come over here and drown your sorrows in wine like a normal person!"
Aboard the Orchid Rain, Candlario's music breaks off mid-note at the shout of his ship's name. Hey, that voice sounded familiar. "Ahoy..." squint in the dark at the ship he's talking with, "...Evening Star. I'm not taking requests." There's a bit of slur to a word or two. He takes the break to enjoy a drink of wine and then gives a sniff-sniff of the stew-smell. "Unless there'll be dancing...and I could actually /see/ it." Too dark to enjoy much of it. "Or a share of some slop."
Evaly answers with a quick grin, "Don't get too appreciative until you find out what you're selling. You may not be so thrilled if the best I can do is working for a fishhead vendor." Exchanging spoon for bottle, she takes a sizable glug while the two boats negotiate their deal. "He has a bottle of whiskey, too," she whispers across the table, cups a hand around her mouth. "Or he did a few days ago. Throw that in as part of the deal." She nods eagerly, passes the bottle back to Bailey at that.
Quick to reply, "So long as it's not me," that's being sold. What Evaly closes out with draws laughter from the brunette, "Hey, don't knock it 'til you tried it," selling fish heads. The sound of Candlario's voice confirms his identity, at which Bailey's mouth curls into a crooked grin, deepening even further when her companion mentions the bottle of whiskey. Mischief dances in her eyes as leans forward takes a healthy swallow from the wine bottle then lowers her tone to keep her words to Evaly's ears alone, "Time to bring Sin and Virtue out to play, wouldn't you agree?" Uh oh. The next is placed louder for the benefit of the one aboard the Orchid Rain, "We'll trade you" adding a deliberate pause as if the two were discussing the issue, "a bottle of whiskey for a pot of herdbeast stew and that flute of yours." Play his cards right, there may well be dancing.
Aboard the Orchid Rain, Candlario's laughter is a roar of a sound, "For the love of the first egg." He slaps a hand against the railing in amusement at the sour deal that's being attempted, "shards you crazy women....whiskey and flue playing and all I get is stew? I'll stumble up the beach for lobster instead." Tossing back the rest he has in his glass and then grumbles in disapointment that he's all dry. "...believe....fall for it.." he mutters while pushing away from the rail.
Evaly's laughter is a short shout before she comments, "I think that kind of work, the peddling of flesh, is restricted to that Lucky Seven place." With all the air of a person unfamiliar with the place in question. The Sin and Virtue comment gets another short laugh, and she chimes loud enough to carry to Candlario's ears, "You'd also get the pleasure of our company? Though if you'd rather stumble up the beach than spend the evening with lovely ladies by candlelight-- well, at least that answers my question once and for all."
Bailey grimaces, "The day I find myself in so unfortunate a position as to peddle mywares at such an establishment, is the day I scuttle the Even'Star myself and swim all the way back to southern." Not going to happen. Bailey's response to Candlario's decline of the proposed deal is a tsking sound in the back of her throat. In an aside to Evaly and nodding in agreement with her words, "Man doesn't know a good deal when he's got one. The company of Sin and Virtue is not something to be scoffed at." A dramatic sigh follows, "Pity, I really was of a mood for dancing tonight too. Ah well, guess its just going to be me and you, babe," this to her current dining companion.
Aboard the Orchid Rain, Candlario's boot treads are heavy across the deck, fading a bit and there's the slam of a door. Then the bang as the door is flung open and more stomp-stomps across the deck in an uneven sort of foot-fall. "Ooohhh....that's right. Go ahead and wound my maleness. Don't think I can't see what you're up to." Who knows just how much drink he's been enjoying, because he's making his way off the ship and it appears he has the bottle of whiskey under his arm too.
"You could just sell it instead?" Evaly points out, looks around the boat with an appraising eye before she returns to her stew, her elbow on the table next to the bowl, the fingers of her free hand perching beneath her chin. "Your masculinity is hardly one to be questioned, you mountain of a man, so either come aboard or don't." The eye-roll is shared strictly with Bailey, men.
Sell it!? Obviously a notion that Bailey hadn't considered, probably one she found more than a little appalling if her dumbfounded expression is anything to go by, "But, where would I live?" Being as how she was it wasn't -her- that had called his masculinity into question, especially not given their last encounter, the brunette turns a bemused look onto Evaly, "What the hell is he going on about?" She listens to the sounds coming from the other boat, a giggle lying just short of spilling out as she reaches for the wine bottle. After taking another good swallow from it she comments in a stage whisper, "By the sounds of things the man's already well in his cups. A half mark says he misses the gangplank and lands in the water."
Aboard the Orchid Rain, Is about halfway down the ropes when something appears to occur to the big man. Or maybe he's getting cold feet. Or maybe he got a rope burn. He hangs there with his free arm and then sighs and gives the bottle under his arm a toss over to the women. Good luck if it doesn't crash and break against the ship, or on the deck. "HOld on. I almost forgot something. This will be great." Lost in his own drunken brilliants he climbs back up. The bottle, if it survives is only a quarter full (sad to drink such good whiskey without friends)--and the big man doesn't come back from the cabin for the rest of the night.
Aboard the Orchid Rain, Candlario is rather
Evaly almost answers what she thinks he's going on about, but Bailey makes the guess about being in his cups before she gets that far, has her just nodding along with that. For a second or two, she watches the Orchid Rain, half expecting the cabin door to reopen, but eventually; "Oh well. He'd only have been a third wheel, if you really think about it. Good thing I didn't take your bet though, huh? You'd be a half-mark lighter in the purse."
Sadly with it being as dark as it is, neither one of the women sees the bottle coming in. Just as well it hits a furled sail thus padding the impact and saving it from splintering into so many shards of glass. Plunk! And then it's rolling across the deck to come to rest against one of the legs of the table. Leaning from her chair in an attempt to retrieve it, Bailey's head goes up expectantly at Candlario's words. Like Evaly she waits a few moments before she too gives up and with a grin places the bottle of whiskey on the table between them. "Didn't have one to begin with," a half mark that is, "some things are worth such a gamble." Now that the pot of stew is likely not to be claimed by her fellow seaman, the brunette draws it closer to her and tucks in with lusty appetite. Between mouthfuls, "So where do you get your stock from then?"
Evaly eats, drinks, both with equal relish, and grins mildly at the comment about a half-mark. "You really do need the work, don't you? I promise to keep an ear open about potential jobs, Sin, I'm sure someone could use a pretty girl to man a booth." Having made a good dent in her meal, she leans back from the table somewhat, holding the bottle in one hand and folding the other arm up so her hand hooks on the back of her chair, relaxed. "It's almost embarrassing, but... My father, actually. He brings the supplies, I sell them. It's not necessarily what I wanted to do when I grow up, but it leaves me enough marks for good wine. So I can't complain."
Silence greets Evaly's observation, the brunette's fork stabbing at the food in her pot, openly discomforted. Finally Bailey's mouth twists into a rueful line, keeping her attention to her meal she adds in a low tone, "Wasn't supposed to be like this. Had plans you know. Big ones." She looks up briefly when the blonde leans back, listening to what she says intently. Tipping her head to one side she gestures with an empty fork toward the other woman, "Didn't you ever just want to go out on your own? You know, do something for yourself, by yourself?"
"Don't let it bother you," Evaly suggests about the money thing. "We all need marks sometimes, and you haven't been reduced to selling your body yet, so it could be a lot worse." She quick-winks at that, adding like it's a conspiracy, "Though I think you could fetch a pretty good price if it ever comes to that." She upends the bottle for a pretty good drink before setting it resolutely in the middle of the table, looking at the low level in it by now with heavy eyes. "I wanted to be a Farmer. An official one. Things didn't quite work out like that, so here I am. And here you are. And this is a good meal, and that's good wine, and it's a good night, so there's the lemonade from my lemons."
Straightening in her seat, Bailey peers down at herself, strangely flattered by that remark, "Really? You think so? Well maybe, if I could choose my own clients. Some of them wandering about here aren't half bad," a half-hearted grin appears, "You could be my pimp." The sardonic laughter that follows puts paid to any danger of that ever becoming a reality. With the whiskey bottle having joined the 'party', the brunette is happy to leave Evaly with the wine and takes a mouthful of the amber liquid, grimacing for the after burn. Blue eyes flare wide surprise but her companion will find no mockery in them, "A farmer? Really? I would have thought maybe hair stylist or weaver." Raising her bottle in toast, "But good for you." Leaning back once again, her head tilts up to the night sky a soft smile touching her lips, "I knew there was a reason I liked you," snapping her head back down to put an amused look over to the other, "You're right. Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow...well, who cares about tomorrow, right?" grin.
Evaly, making a face; "I have a feeling that I've just been vaguely offended." Weaver or hairdresser. She doesn't actually look too offended, more amused than anything. "If you get drunk and fall overboard," she muses with her eyes pinned to the bottle of whiskey, which she really failed to notice until just now, "does that mean I get a half-mark for Rio and a half-mark for you? Also, I think I've had a few too many to dive in and save you."
Bailey's hastens to clarify, "Oh no, no, no. It's just that you look like someone that would have a good eye for that type of thing is all." She follows Evaly's gaze and chuckles holding the bottle out to her, trade? "If I fall overboard, and you don't dive in to save me, you get this," she waves a hand about indicating the sloop upon whose deck they are. "As to Rio..." a sly smile appears, her eyes darting over to the Orchid Rain, "something tells me he's worth a little more than that."
"Growing things," Evaly clarifies, bats her fingers in the air to dismiss both bottles, the one still in the middle of the table for the taking if Bailey's so inclined. "I like growing things, and I think I was good at it. I had a garden at the Hold-- well, outside the actual Hold proper, but near enough." She follows the dart of eyes, blinking a few times at the Orchid Rain like she can't pair the slyness to the vessel. "I suppose if you go for great hulking men, sure? Do you want me to go knock and tell him you're tipsy and willing if he's not so very drunk?"
Chuckling now, "Didn't figure you for the stinky herdbeast type." Intrigued now, "What type of things did you grow? Flowers or stuff you can eat?" Oh look, both bottles to herself. Either someone doesn't know her limits or they're far greater than is proper for a young lady. The wine bottle is taken up, the whiskey left to one side for later enjoyment. Evaly's words bring a faint flush to Bailey's cheeks, giving her the appearance of being flustered. Then again, that could just be the alcohol taking effect. Slumping down into her seating, looking to be trying to make herself smaller, all the while snorting at the very idea, "Don't be silly! It's as plain as the light of day. Just look at that boat of his. There's marks there and I intend to find out just how much."
Evaly just shrugs at what she grew, her attention span a little too short at the moment to pursue the topic at length. Instead, she gets her own sly expression at the pinkening cheeks and answers, "It's not silly. He's hot, and he seems to be a little less grotesque than most of the men I've met since I got here." Thin compliment, but better than the alternative. "There's an easy way to get on board that boat, though it kind of goes back to that whole 'peddling flesh' thing we were talking about earlier. Oh! Or he wants a firelizard if you happen to know where to get an egg."
Where Evaly drops the topic of her growing skills, Bailey does so with regards to what constitutes her idea of a hot guy muttering only a vague, "He's okay." It's what the blonde says last that really grabs her attention, "Oh? Did he say how much he'd pay for one?" Not that she knows anything about the winged critters or where to find one.
Here's a less thin compliment; "Look, even I was a little turned-on by him, so 'he's okay' is selling him a little short, darling." Evaly stops for a second, her smile brightening-- "Think how much different this conversation would be if he'd actually come over here." Her version of a giggle is a hoarse chuckle, followed by her slumping down even deeper in her chair, alcohol being one of those things that hit a person harder as time progresses. What she's already had is sinking in now. "No, not specifically, but it would be a good way to get aboard that ship and take a look around if that's really your game."
Bailey spends a good few seconds just staring at Evaly until finally throaty laughter breaks free from her, "Okay, you win. He's great big heaping pile of easy-on-the-eye and worth a second thought. Or two. Maybe even, three. Happy now?" What is said next has the brunette catching her lower lip between her teeth for a moment. Reaching for the bottle, the one with whiskey still left in it, she concedes with a smirk, slurring the a few of the words, "Probably more than the poor man could have handled," wink. Tapping a finger to her temple, a wide grin appears, "I like the way you think! Mind if I name drop? Say it was you that put me onto his wanting a firelizard egg?"
...slurring the last few words...
Evaly's beam is slow to spread but really takes root once it does, her heavy eyes bright beneath the glassy polish they've adopted. "So happy, thank you. I really think honesty is the best policy in all things except business." After the added, "You sound a little drunk, darling. I'm suggesting you slow down on those bottles, huh? Save some for next time." She nods with easy enthusiasm at the last question, totally unfettered by the thought. "No, go for it. Just, you'll probably need to pretend that I took at ten-percent finder's fee if you do use my name, or he's going to get suspicious."
Sticking her tongue out for the comeback, Bailey's mouth curves around a cheesy grin that causes the scar at the corner of her mouth to pucker, "I'll drink to that!" Indeed, she takes another pull on the whiskey bottle before pushing it aside, apparently in agreement with Evaly. "You're not so land legged yourself, darling. You can take the spare hammock below decks for tonight." Although that kind of swaying to and fro could be disastrous to someone in their cups and unused to the motion. "Ten percent, huh?" shrugging easily at the figure, the brunette hefts herself up out of the canvas chair, takes a moment to still the slight sway she's got going on and then proceeds to try and gather up the bottles and clay pots - ineffectually so. "You got a deal. That is if I find him one."
Evaly affects a pout and does it pretty well, all those hours practicing the flirt on people she has no interest in beyond the depth of their purses. "The spare hammock? You aren't going to offer to let me cuddle up with you for the night? I guaran-damn-tee you that telling that story would get you on more than one boat around here, firelizard or not." As to the ten percent, she laughs a touch and notes, "I won't really charge it to you, it's just a standard off-the-top I take for introducing people to each others' needs." She pauses, brightening slowly, drunk enough that the humor takes a while to dawn on her: "I guess I would be a good pimp after all, huh?"
Surprisingly enough? Bailey doesn't look in any way shocked or discomforted by Evaly's response, simply replying with, "Didn't think you swung that way." Aside from a healthy bout of laughter should a story such as that ever get out, she leaves that particular tangle of topic alone for the time being. Shaking her head now and then having to take a shaky step backward as that proved to be a bad move for one inebriated, the brunette says with stubborn determination, "No, no. If that's the going rate, I'll pay it." It takes her a second or two longer to figure out what her companion is going on about, when it takes hold, a fit of giggles takes hold. Eventually she's able to recover enough breath to get out, "Stick with me, darling and I'll make you rich!" More hilarity ensues.
With distracted thoughtfulness; "I'm not sure I swing any way. Either way. But it should be flattering, right?" Her smile flashes brightly if briefly, fading at the promise to pay. "I'm not going to take your marks, darling. But I am going to insist on knowing what if anything you find out about how loaded the guy is. I have been flirting with him pretty heavily, and I'd like to find out whether or not there's any point."
Bending to retrieve the lid of a clay pot that had fallen in her clumsy attempt to clear the table, Bailey's expression is, thankfully, hidden, "Then, consider me flattered." Her disembodied voice teasing although there could be a hint of something else hidden beneath that. One hand to the table top, she uses the leverage to drag herself upright once again, plonks the lid on the table and offers a lopsided smile over to Evaly, "Offer over important information like that to one that now states her claim to being competition?" A shrug as she offers a hand up to her companion, "I don't see why not. So long as we keep it on the up and up." The competition or the use of such information?
Blinking, the bleariness kept mostly at bay if the confusion isn't, Evaly repeats, "Competitio-- oh, no no. Not like that. He's all yours, darling. I just meant, if he's got cash, I'd like to know about it. And how much." She watches what she can see of the nearby boat, takes a deep breath of that nice sea air, and starts to push out of her chair in return. "I am going to go back ashore, though, with the promise that I'm plenty sober enough to find my way back to my own bed, promise. And the promise that it was a lovely dinner, thank you."
Husky laughter threads out, "Like I said, competition. However, I'm more than happy to offer fair trade for the information already given me on the situation of a firelizard egg." Bailey easily accepts Evaly's decline, waving a finger in her general direction and finding it increasingly difficult to keep the slur from her voice, "As you wish, but don't blame me if you wake up face down in the sand tomorrow morning," a hiccough punctuating the end. Of a mind to drop a playful courtesy in return for the compliment for her culinary skills, the brunette simply ends up doing some kind of clumsy bob affair that has her own legs becoming entangled with themselves around the ankles. "Thank'sh for coming...an' bringin' the wine." Griiiin.
"Very smooth," is Evaly's assessment after a pointed look down at the tangled up legs, hah! "Get some sleep, huh? You can still clean up in the morning, and make sure you drink loads of water." She says it with all the certainty of someone on the receiving end of a fair few hangovers in her days, a kiss blown off the end of her fingers before she trots on fairly steady feet off the boat and back on to the docks, a good breath of night air helping clear her head for the hike back to the Weyr.
Blue eyes roll dramatically, "Been there, done that, fell off the docksh." This to being drunk. Sending Evaly off with a bleary looking wave of hand, Bailey watches her retreating back for a few minutes. Turning she casts a contemplative look over to the Orchid Rain then deftly gathers together the clay pots, tucks the two bottles under an arm, blows out the candle and flings the discarded apron over her shoulder. Another last look about the deck and then she's proceeding below on legs far steadier than she'd made out they were, whistling a jaunty tune as she goes. Not nearly as inebriated as the exhibition she'd put on.
IC Date: 5/18/22
The Even'Star, once a pretty little sloop in her time but many miles of seafaring and a hefty storm or two have taken their toll. For all that she paints a forlorn little picture moored alongside vessels of far greater scenic value, her deck at least is kept meticulously scrubbed down with everything neatly stowed away. Tonight a foldout table is placed on the decking of her aft section with a canvas slung chair on either side. A candle, used, judging by the puddle of cooled wax at its base has been set in the middle of the table, an overly large island flower its companion in a clay mug. The 'skipper' of this boat is nowhere to be seen, though sounds of someone moving about below decks are clearly audible to anyone coming aboard.
"I come bearing drinks!" Evaly calls from the docks, lifting one arm to show the corked bottle in her hand, letting its silhouette show against the slightly lighter sky. "And, if this isn't the right boat, I'm going to drink with whoever's on board, so... Sin?" There's a pause, her sandals still clapping against the wood of the docks until she's heading over the gang plank. "We probably ought to get to real names here shortly, I'm thinking."
Those opening words have Bailey appearing like a rabbit from out of its burrow. "Virtue!" a wide grin greets her guest as the rest of the brunette appears, a small lidded clay pot carefully cradled in cloth, carried in each hand. Moving toward where their 'dining' area has been set up she sets the two pots down. Next, fishing around in the pocket of the apron she's wearing, two forks are produced and set next to each pot. Short laughter meets Evaly's comment over names, "Oh I don't know, I rather like the one you've given me." The apron is untied and draped over a canvas chair as she tries very hard not to eye the booze the blonde has brought along with too much longing. "You don't like yours? Or is it that it doesn't sit very well?" sly the grin tacked on at the end.
Evaly lifts her chin to give the boat a little once over, turning in a circle to get a good look at the whole of it, finally saying, "Nice digs." Holding the neck on her end, she extends the bottle toward Bailey as the hostess, label up to show it's not a bad bit of white wine, probably cost her a fair few marks. "And Virtue's so apt it's almost scary, to tell you the truth, but people might get the wrong idea if I tell them that I've been having dinner with Sin."
Bailey's well aware of the sloop's failings and so the blonde's comment is accepted with a pleased smile, "Thanks. Its home, and its mine." The latter of which, is obviously important to her. The bottle being held out draws a lift of brow and an appreciative whistle, "You've got to tell me how you do it." Earning the marks that one afford such niceties. Hearty laughter breaks free for Evaly's last, "Not always a bad thing to keep people guessing. Keeps things...interesting don't you think?" She easily relents however and offers simply, "Bailey," by means of giving a proper name as she gestures toward one of the chairs, "Sit, take a load off and tell me who Virtue really is."
...that afford one such niceties...
"Do what? Afford good wine?" Evaly laughs brightly and points out, "I'm pretty and I sell things that men can give to their girlfriends. Generally speaking, it adds up to a pretty decent income." Dropping into the offered chair, she quirks a grin to agree with the bit about keeping people guessing, but still-- "Evaly. And I like that name. Bailey. It's better than the ones I picked for you, suiting. What are we eating, Bailey?"
"First you got to have something they want," Bailey points out then realizing how that might have sounded adds, "Aside from the obvious that is. Although that too can get a girl quite far if she knows how to play her cards right." Perhaps she deserves that non de plume after all. About to plop into her own chair she halts and a perplexed look crosses her face as she eyes the bottle of wine, "I ummm...there's no glasses," embarrassed at the confession. But then there's the distraction of what their evening faire consists of. With great aplomb she lifts the lid off of the clay pot before the blonde in a 'ta daaa' manner, "Herdbeast stew!" Like that's some kind of great achievement.
Aboard the Orchid Rain, The general buzz, or low-hum aboard the ship is rather lazy. A coupld deck hands are lounging above deck, hats over faces, their work apparently done for the day. Candlario comes out of the cabin, his white tunic open, his face not yet even shaved. In his hand he already has a glass and it looks like wine in there. Ah, good times. The lazy men are noted with a smirk and he doesn't bother calling out to them. Instead he heads over to the far side of the deck to watch the dock while he wakes up with some good hair-of-the-dog. Yumyum.
Evaly flips her hair back off the side of her neck, tossing it prettily to comment, "It's all about how you pitch it. A little spritz of perfume, the offer of a quick whiff for the poor oaf, and he suddenly thinks his girlfriend just has to have that specific bottle. Sometimes I feel bad about it. Other times..." She nods to the bottle of wine, illustrating what it's bought her so far, grin spreading to add, "We'll make do without the glasses, darling, though I /knew/ I should have brought the red." Herdbeast, red wine. "Aside from making a sumptuous smelling dinner, catching fish, and looking pretty-- what do you do, Bailey?" The goings-on aboard adjacent boats are largely lost to her, it being dark and her being chatty and all. Eventually, the white-tunic might get a glance, though!
Bailey's lips curl into a small smirk, "Or that specific girl." A roll of blue eyes up to the star studded night sky, "Why feel bad about it? If he's dumb enough to fall for the line then his marks are forfeit." Appeased by Evaly's words over the lack of glasses she drops down into her own chair and lifting the lid off of the pot in front of her to allow the steam to escape. A chuckle greets words over her apparent accomplishments, "You might want to taste it before you give it such a glowing report." There's a good few moments silence before she answers the question put to her, during which she allows her gaze to wander where it grazes over the Orchid Rain, lingers on the mountain of a man enjoying the evening air and returns back to the blonde. "Actually, I'm looking for a job in the markets until my cargo comes in," the upward lilt of her tone suggesting that she might be sending an enquiry for employment the other woman's way.
Aboard the Orchid Rain, Candlario can hear voices, not not particularly the words that are spoken. Besides, it's not his nature just to go roaring over to another ship while he's got wine to enjoy. He slumps forward against the railing, making himself comfortable with the glass beside him. He draws a pipe-flute from a back pocket and toys around with an uncomplicated little tune. One of those more popular sea songs though played with a slower tempo and a few octives lower, making it almost sad instead of lively.
Evaly starts to answer for why she might feel bad about it, but eventually settles with just a smile and a shrug, helpless to cope with her own conscience. Trusting Bailey to tend to the bottle of wine, she samples the fare with a big, confident bite, chewing it while she raises a brow at the implied enquiry. "I think my booth may be a little small for two, and I'm completely sold out of stock at the moment, but I could put the word out that you're in the market for the market, if you want?" Pipe music adds to the ambiance, and, after a rub of her stomach to assure she's pretty keen on the stew, she adds, "A serenade to boot, you just pulled out all the stops, Sin!"
And Bailey does just that, uncorking the bottle she takes an appreciative sniff of the contents then angles it Evaly's way to claim first sampling. Thus far her own food remains untouched however she watches with keen interest as her dining companion takes a bite and pronounces it edible. Settling back in her chair and lacing fingers together over a bared stomach, the brunette nods in acceptance, "Fair enough. I'd appreciate your putting the word out. Until then I'll just keep on doing what I have been." Whatever that may be. On the melancholy melody floating out across the water, she wrinkles her nose, "Pity it has to sound like a death dirge." Straightening up a little she calls out loudly, "Ahoy there, Orchid Rain. Either play something a girl can excited about or come over here and drown your sorrows in wine like a normal person!"
Aboard the Orchid Rain, Candlario's music breaks off mid-note at the shout of his ship's name. Hey, that voice sounded familiar. "Ahoy..." squint in the dark at the ship he's talking with, "...Evening Star. I'm not taking requests." There's a bit of slur to a word or two. He takes the break to enjoy a drink of wine and then gives a sniff-sniff of the stew-smell. "Unless there'll be dancing...and I could actually /see/ it." Too dark to enjoy much of it. "Or a share of some slop."
Evaly answers with a quick grin, "Don't get too appreciative until you find out what you're selling. You may not be so thrilled if the best I can do is working for a fishhead vendor." Exchanging spoon for bottle, she takes a sizable glug while the two boats negotiate their deal. "He has a bottle of whiskey, too," she whispers across the table, cups a hand around her mouth. "Or he did a few days ago. Throw that in as part of the deal." She nods eagerly, passes the bottle back to Bailey at that.
Quick to reply, "So long as it's not me," that's being sold. What Evaly closes out with draws laughter from the brunette, "Hey, don't knock it 'til you tried it," selling fish heads. The sound of Candlario's voice confirms his identity, at which Bailey's mouth curls into a crooked grin, deepening even further when her companion mentions the bottle of whiskey. Mischief dances in her eyes as leans forward takes a healthy swallow from the wine bottle then lowers her tone to keep her words to Evaly's ears alone, "Time to bring Sin and Virtue out to play, wouldn't you agree?" Uh oh. The next is placed louder for the benefit of the one aboard the Orchid Rain, "We'll trade you" adding a deliberate pause as if the two were discussing the issue, "a bottle of whiskey for a pot of herdbeast stew and that flute of yours." Play his cards right, there may well be dancing.
Aboard the Orchid Rain, Candlario's laughter is a roar of a sound, "For the love of the first egg." He slaps a hand against the railing in amusement at the sour deal that's being attempted, "shards you crazy women....whiskey and flue playing and all I get is stew? I'll stumble up the beach for lobster instead." Tossing back the rest he has in his glass and then grumbles in disapointment that he's all dry. "...believe....fall for it.." he mutters while pushing away from the rail.
Evaly's laughter is a short shout before she comments, "I think that kind of work, the peddling of flesh, is restricted to that Lucky Seven place." With all the air of a person unfamiliar with the place in question. The Sin and Virtue comment gets another short laugh, and she chimes loud enough to carry to Candlario's ears, "You'd also get the pleasure of our company? Though if you'd rather stumble up the beach than spend the evening with lovely ladies by candlelight-- well, at least that answers my question once and for all."
Bailey grimaces, "The day I find myself in so unfortunate a position as to peddle mywares at such an establishment, is the day I scuttle the Even'Star myself and swim all the way back to southern." Not going to happen. Bailey's response to Candlario's decline of the proposed deal is a tsking sound in the back of her throat. In an aside to Evaly and nodding in agreement with her words, "Man doesn't know a good deal when he's got one. The company of Sin and Virtue is not something to be scoffed at." A dramatic sigh follows, "Pity, I really was of a mood for dancing tonight too. Ah well, guess its just going to be me and you, babe," this to her current dining companion.
Aboard the Orchid Rain, Candlario's boot treads are heavy across the deck, fading a bit and there's the slam of a door. Then the bang as the door is flung open and more stomp-stomps across the deck in an uneven sort of foot-fall. "Ooohhh....that's right. Go ahead and wound my maleness. Don't think I can't see what you're up to." Who knows just how much drink he's been enjoying, because he's making his way off the ship and it appears he has the bottle of whiskey under his arm too.
"You could just sell it instead?" Evaly points out, looks around the boat with an appraising eye before she returns to her stew, her elbow on the table next to the bowl, the fingers of her free hand perching beneath her chin. "Your masculinity is hardly one to be questioned, you mountain of a man, so either come aboard or don't." The eye-roll is shared strictly with Bailey, men.
Sell it!? Obviously a notion that Bailey hadn't considered, probably one she found more than a little appalling if her dumbfounded expression is anything to go by, "But, where would I live?" Being as how she was it wasn't -her- that had called his masculinity into question, especially not given their last encounter, the brunette turns a bemused look onto Evaly, "What the hell is he going on about?" She listens to the sounds coming from the other boat, a giggle lying just short of spilling out as she reaches for the wine bottle. After taking another good swallow from it she comments in a stage whisper, "By the sounds of things the man's already well in his cups. A half mark says he misses the gangplank and lands in the water."
Aboard the Orchid Rain, Is about halfway down the ropes when something appears to occur to the big man. Or maybe he's getting cold feet. Or maybe he got a rope burn. He hangs there with his free arm and then sighs and gives the bottle under his arm a toss over to the women. Good luck if it doesn't crash and break against the ship, or on the deck. "HOld on. I almost forgot something. This will be great." Lost in his own drunken brilliants he climbs back up. The bottle, if it survives is only a quarter full (sad to drink such good whiskey without friends)--and the big man doesn't come back from the cabin for the rest of the night.
Aboard the Orchid Rain, Candlario is rather
Evaly almost answers what she thinks he's going on about, but Bailey makes the guess about being in his cups before she gets that far, has her just nodding along with that. For a second or two, she watches the Orchid Rain, half expecting the cabin door to reopen, but eventually; "Oh well. He'd only have been a third wheel, if you really think about it. Good thing I didn't take your bet though, huh? You'd be a half-mark lighter in the purse."
Sadly with it being as dark as it is, neither one of the women sees the bottle coming in. Just as well it hits a furled sail thus padding the impact and saving it from splintering into so many shards of glass. Plunk! And then it's rolling across the deck to come to rest against one of the legs of the table. Leaning from her chair in an attempt to retrieve it, Bailey's head goes up expectantly at Candlario's words. Like Evaly she waits a few moments before she too gives up and with a grin places the bottle of whiskey on the table between them. "Didn't have one to begin with," a half mark that is, "some things are worth such a gamble." Now that the pot of stew is likely not to be claimed by her fellow seaman, the brunette draws it closer to her and tucks in with lusty appetite. Between mouthfuls, "So where do you get your stock from then?"
Evaly eats, drinks, both with equal relish, and grins mildly at the comment about a half-mark. "You really do need the work, don't you? I promise to keep an ear open about potential jobs, Sin, I'm sure someone could use a pretty girl to man a booth." Having made a good dent in her meal, she leans back from the table somewhat, holding the bottle in one hand and folding the other arm up so her hand hooks on the back of her chair, relaxed. "It's almost embarrassing, but... My father, actually. He brings the supplies, I sell them. It's not necessarily what I wanted to do when I grow up, but it leaves me enough marks for good wine. So I can't complain."
Silence greets Evaly's observation, the brunette's fork stabbing at the food in her pot, openly discomforted. Finally Bailey's mouth twists into a rueful line, keeping her attention to her meal she adds in a low tone, "Wasn't supposed to be like this. Had plans you know. Big ones." She looks up briefly when the blonde leans back, listening to what she says intently. Tipping her head to one side she gestures with an empty fork toward the other woman, "Didn't you ever just want to go out on your own? You know, do something for yourself, by yourself?"
"Don't let it bother you," Evaly suggests about the money thing. "We all need marks sometimes, and you haven't been reduced to selling your body yet, so it could be a lot worse." She quick-winks at that, adding like it's a conspiracy, "Though I think you could fetch a pretty good price if it ever comes to that." She upends the bottle for a pretty good drink before setting it resolutely in the middle of the table, looking at the low level in it by now with heavy eyes. "I wanted to be a Farmer. An official one. Things didn't quite work out like that, so here I am. And here you are. And this is a good meal, and that's good wine, and it's a good night, so there's the lemonade from my lemons."
Straightening in her seat, Bailey peers down at herself, strangely flattered by that remark, "Really? You think so? Well maybe, if I could choose my own clients. Some of them wandering about here aren't half bad," a half-hearted grin appears, "You could be my pimp." The sardonic laughter that follows puts paid to any danger of that ever becoming a reality. With the whiskey bottle having joined the 'party', the brunette is happy to leave Evaly with the wine and takes a mouthful of the amber liquid, grimacing for the after burn. Blue eyes flare wide surprise but her companion will find no mockery in them, "A farmer? Really? I would have thought maybe hair stylist or weaver." Raising her bottle in toast, "But good for you." Leaning back once again, her head tilts up to the night sky a soft smile touching her lips, "I knew there was a reason I liked you," snapping her head back down to put an amused look over to the other, "You're right. Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow...well, who cares about tomorrow, right?" grin.
Evaly, making a face; "I have a feeling that I've just been vaguely offended." Weaver or hairdresser. She doesn't actually look too offended, more amused than anything. "If you get drunk and fall overboard," she muses with her eyes pinned to the bottle of whiskey, which she really failed to notice until just now, "does that mean I get a half-mark for Rio and a half-mark for you? Also, I think I've had a few too many to dive in and save you."
Bailey's hastens to clarify, "Oh no, no, no. It's just that you look like someone that would have a good eye for that type of thing is all." She follows Evaly's gaze and chuckles holding the bottle out to her, trade? "If I fall overboard, and you don't dive in to save me, you get this," she waves a hand about indicating the sloop upon whose deck they are. "As to Rio..." a sly smile appears, her eyes darting over to the Orchid Rain, "something tells me he's worth a little more than that."
"Growing things," Evaly clarifies, bats her fingers in the air to dismiss both bottles, the one still in the middle of the table for the taking if Bailey's so inclined. "I like growing things, and I think I was good at it. I had a garden at the Hold-- well, outside the actual Hold proper, but near enough." She follows the dart of eyes, blinking a few times at the Orchid Rain like she can't pair the slyness to the vessel. "I suppose if you go for great hulking men, sure? Do you want me to go knock and tell him you're tipsy and willing if he's not so very drunk?"
Chuckling now, "Didn't figure you for the stinky herdbeast type." Intrigued now, "What type of things did you grow? Flowers or stuff you can eat?" Oh look, both bottles to herself. Either someone doesn't know her limits or they're far greater than is proper for a young lady. The wine bottle is taken up, the whiskey left to one side for later enjoyment. Evaly's words bring a faint flush to Bailey's cheeks, giving her the appearance of being flustered. Then again, that could just be the alcohol taking effect. Slumping down into her seating, looking to be trying to make herself smaller, all the while snorting at the very idea, "Don't be silly! It's as plain as the light of day. Just look at that boat of his. There's marks there and I intend to find out just how much."
Evaly just shrugs at what she grew, her attention span a little too short at the moment to pursue the topic at length. Instead, she gets her own sly expression at the pinkening cheeks and answers, "It's not silly. He's hot, and he seems to be a little less grotesque than most of the men I've met since I got here." Thin compliment, but better than the alternative. "There's an easy way to get on board that boat, though it kind of goes back to that whole 'peddling flesh' thing we were talking about earlier. Oh! Or he wants a firelizard if you happen to know where to get an egg."
Where Evaly drops the topic of her growing skills, Bailey does so with regards to what constitutes her idea of a hot guy muttering only a vague, "He's okay." It's what the blonde says last that really grabs her attention, "Oh? Did he say how much he'd pay for one?" Not that she knows anything about the winged critters or where to find one.
Here's a less thin compliment; "Look, even I was a little turned-on by him, so 'he's okay' is selling him a little short, darling." Evaly stops for a second, her smile brightening-- "Think how much different this conversation would be if he'd actually come over here." Her version of a giggle is a hoarse chuckle, followed by her slumping down even deeper in her chair, alcohol being one of those things that hit a person harder as time progresses. What she's already had is sinking in now. "No, not specifically, but it would be a good way to get aboard that ship and take a look around if that's really your game."
Bailey spends a good few seconds just staring at Evaly until finally throaty laughter breaks free from her, "Okay, you win. He's great big heaping pile of easy-on-the-eye and worth a second thought. Or two. Maybe even, three. Happy now?" What is said next has the brunette catching her lower lip between her teeth for a moment. Reaching for the bottle, the one with whiskey still left in it, she concedes with a smirk, slurring the a few of the words, "Probably more than the poor man could have handled," wink. Tapping a finger to her temple, a wide grin appears, "I like the way you think! Mind if I name drop? Say it was you that put me onto his wanting a firelizard egg?"
...slurring the last few words...
Evaly's beam is slow to spread but really takes root once it does, her heavy eyes bright beneath the glassy polish they've adopted. "So happy, thank you. I really think honesty is the best policy in all things except business." After the added, "You sound a little drunk, darling. I'm suggesting you slow down on those bottles, huh? Save some for next time." She nods with easy enthusiasm at the last question, totally unfettered by the thought. "No, go for it. Just, you'll probably need to pretend that I took at ten-percent finder's fee if you do use my name, or he's going to get suspicious."
Sticking her tongue out for the comeback, Bailey's mouth curves around a cheesy grin that causes the scar at the corner of her mouth to pucker, "I'll drink to that!" Indeed, she takes another pull on the whiskey bottle before pushing it aside, apparently in agreement with Evaly. "You're not so land legged yourself, darling. You can take the spare hammock below decks for tonight." Although that kind of swaying to and fro could be disastrous to someone in their cups and unused to the motion. "Ten percent, huh?" shrugging easily at the figure, the brunette hefts herself up out of the canvas chair, takes a moment to still the slight sway she's got going on and then proceeds to try and gather up the bottles and clay pots - ineffectually so. "You got a deal. That is if I find him one."
Evaly affects a pout and does it pretty well, all those hours practicing the flirt on people she has no interest in beyond the depth of their purses. "The spare hammock? You aren't going to offer to let me cuddle up with you for the night? I guaran-damn-tee you that telling that story would get you on more than one boat around here, firelizard or not." As to the ten percent, she laughs a touch and notes, "I won't really charge it to you, it's just a standard off-the-top I take for introducing people to each others' needs." She pauses, brightening slowly, drunk enough that the humor takes a while to dawn on her: "I guess I would be a good pimp after all, huh?"
Surprisingly enough? Bailey doesn't look in any way shocked or discomforted by Evaly's response, simply replying with, "Didn't think you swung that way." Aside from a healthy bout of laughter should a story such as that ever get out, she leaves that particular tangle of topic alone for the time being. Shaking her head now and then having to take a shaky step backward as that proved to be a bad move for one inebriated, the brunette says with stubborn determination, "No, no. If that's the going rate, I'll pay it." It takes her a second or two longer to figure out what her companion is going on about, when it takes hold, a fit of giggles takes hold. Eventually she's able to recover enough breath to get out, "Stick with me, darling and I'll make you rich!" More hilarity ensues.
With distracted thoughtfulness; "I'm not sure I swing any way. Either way. But it should be flattering, right?" Her smile flashes brightly if briefly, fading at the promise to pay. "I'm not going to take your marks, darling. But I am going to insist on knowing what if anything you find out about how loaded the guy is. I have been flirting with him pretty heavily, and I'd like to find out whether or not there's any point."
Bending to retrieve the lid of a clay pot that had fallen in her clumsy attempt to clear the table, Bailey's expression is, thankfully, hidden, "Then, consider me flattered." Her disembodied voice teasing although there could be a hint of something else hidden beneath that. One hand to the table top, she uses the leverage to drag herself upright once again, plonks the lid on the table and offers a lopsided smile over to Evaly, "Offer over important information like that to one that now states her claim to being competition?" A shrug as she offers a hand up to her companion, "I don't see why not. So long as we keep it on the up and up." The competition or the use of such information?
Blinking, the bleariness kept mostly at bay if the confusion isn't, Evaly repeats, "Competitio-- oh, no no. Not like that. He's all yours, darling. I just meant, if he's got cash, I'd like to know about it. And how much." She watches what she can see of the nearby boat, takes a deep breath of that nice sea air, and starts to push out of her chair in return. "I am going to go back ashore, though, with the promise that I'm plenty sober enough to find my way back to my own bed, promise. And the promise that it was a lovely dinner, thank you."
Husky laughter threads out, "Like I said, competition. However, I'm more than happy to offer fair trade for the information already given me on the situation of a firelizard egg." Bailey easily accepts Evaly's decline, waving a finger in her general direction and finding it increasingly difficult to keep the slur from her voice, "As you wish, but don't blame me if you wake up face down in the sand tomorrow morning," a hiccough punctuating the end. Of a mind to drop a playful courtesy in return for the compliment for her culinary skills, the brunette simply ends up doing some kind of clumsy bob affair that has her own legs becoming entangled with themselves around the ankles. "Thank'sh for coming...an' bringin' the wine." Griiiin.
"Very smooth," is Evaly's assessment after a pointed look down at the tangled up legs, hah! "Get some sleep, huh? You can still clean up in the morning, and make sure you drink loads of water." She says it with all the certainty of someone on the receiving end of a fair few hangovers in her days, a kiss blown off the end of her fingers before she trots on fairly steady feet off the boat and back on to the docks, a good breath of night air helping clear her head for the hike back to the Weyr.
Blue eyes roll dramatically, "Been there, done that, fell off the docksh." This to being drunk. Sending Evaly off with a bleary looking wave of hand, Bailey watches her retreating back for a few minutes. Turning she casts a contemplative look over to the Orchid Rain then deftly gathers together the clay pots, tucks the two bottles under an arm, blows out the candle and flings the discarded apron over her shoulder. Another last look about the deck and then she's proceeding below on legs far steadier than she'd made out they were, whistling a jaunty tune as she goes. Not nearly as inebriated as the exhibition she'd put on.