[Evaly] Just a bit of business between friends.
RL Date: 6/2/10
IC Date: 12/2/22
Garden Pavilion, Ista Weyr(#1904RJ)
The sweep of lush green grass brings the eye to the pavilion, built square in the middle of the lawn. Tall, heavy wooden columns ensnared by the steady growth of Istan white flower-vines, leads to the slate grey roofing. Colorful vegetation grows all along the perimeter, kept healthy and orderly by frequent gardening.
The pavilion itself provides an open, covered space for dining tables or dancing and the flagstones continuing outward form patio for overflow, allowing varied configurations to suit any gathering. To one side is the cooking station with a few simple counters for prep and serving, several small grills and one large one and a bar that that stands unstocked when there's no party in progress. All around the structure and the surrounding area, stretching overhead, are strings of glass globes for glowlight and other festive decorations.
Evaly really needs to get a job. Seriously. Right now, with nothing more pressing to do, she's sitting at one of the tables in the pavilion, eating grapes out of a big bowl, and apparently trying to push around some pages that look mainly like scraps. Occasionally, she pauses in eating grapes or pushing around paper to reach for a pencil and make a mark on a particular scrap of paper kept off to the side: keeping lists, but not exactly in a big rush about it. As often as not, she just puts her elbow on the edge of the table and looks almost longingly out at the decent weather.
Fair weather for a change has drawn many out and about, Bailey being one such person. She's stopped a few paces back from actually entering the pavilion proper, pale eyes flitting over the area with open appreciation. Clearly, she's not been in attendance to any of the functions held here of late. Or ever. It's during her surveyance of the area that her attention lands on Evaly amidst her scraps of paper and bowl of grapes. Steps take her that way, offering with slight amusement for the longing stare into the distance as she nears, "You know, it's even better out there, on the ocean. I won't even charge."
With a glance toward Bailey just quick enough to assign a face to the voice, Evaly goes immediately to the task she's got in front of her - whatever it is. "Sure, but." She even picks up the pencil; see how hard she's working? "I'm trying to be industrious, you see, and taking a nice pleasure cruise really wouldn't play into that very well, would it? Though, admittedly, free entertainment is pretty tempting at the moment. Still." She's resolved!
Bailey doesn't wait for an invitation, slipping into a seat opposite to where the blonde is busy being, 'busy'. Leaning an elbow on the table and cupping her chin into the palm of that hand the other reaches for one of those scraps of paper to draw it nearer in an attempt to try and see exactly what it is that she's so hard at work with. "Mmm," her initial response to Evaly's words, then a slow exhalation of breath into a lazy sigh, "It could help clear your head. Sea air's good for that. Leave it all behind for a while and just...breathe." Blue eyes settle on the other woman, sincerity in both her expression and voice, "I'm so sorry it didn't happen for you, Evaly."
Evaly's busy-work seems to have a lot to do with money - big surprise. She's obviously been at least somewhat industrious, as the notes look to be matters of cost: how much will a whole host of things cost, ranging from bulbs and seeds to glass bottles to a large stock pot. "Ahhh, but." Again with the but. "If I clear my head, then I'll lose all the work I've already stashed away up there, and have to start over again from square one. It's not always advisable to clear one's head, I'm thinking." The more sincere remarks have her look up again, across the table, and cock her head. Honestly; "It's okay. I'm really pretty all right with it."
Seeing as how Evaly doesn't seem to object to the brunette's initial snooping, she draws another scrap closer, picks it up, scans the notes, sets it down and then takes up another. A contemplative sound hums in the back of her throat as she peruses the figures on yet another. Setting an intent look onto the blonde, Bailey asks, "Got an idea yet of what setting something like this up will cost?" Next her mouth tilts up at one corner into a crooked smile, "You got more balls than I have. Taking a risk like that."
"Just short of an outrageous sum," Evaly replies with humor, rolling her eyes a little at the dramatic quality of her own response, but not going so far as to revise it. Instead, she adds, "I'm going to start looking for investors soon, if that waitressing gig of yours actually pays well enough that you're looking for an adventure with your marks." Brows wiggle invitingly, yes? Exciting? No. Back to the other matter, she shrugs; "It seemed like a silly thing to say no to. Really, it's not like was so tremendously pleased with my situation that I needed to fight tooth-and-nail to stay where I was, you know?"
Bailey meets that with a short chuckle, "Everything is relative to how much you have to begin with." While Evaly may have commented in jest, the brunette appears to take the matter very seriously. So much so that all the scraps of paper, save the one the blonde is currently working on and drawn closer and given closer study, her brows crinkling a little here and there in concentration. As such, a silence forms and draws out until finally, stacking them all on top of each other as neatly as there odd sizes will allow for and setting them to one side, the sea-trader's fingers lace together before her and she nods, "Okay, I'm in. When do you need the capital by?" Which coming from someone who doesn't appears to have much herself, might be more than a little surprising. As she awaits the other woman's response her mouth turns into a wry smile as she points out, "The marks you were making beforehand?" cushioning her words right after with, "Look, I'm not going to be able to stay on at the restaurant for much longer than another month or two, so if you're looking for part time work, I can put a word in with Paddy for you. Pay's not fantastic, but the tips aren't too bad. And with it only being four days out of seven, you'd still have time to start getting all of this together."
...currently working on are drawn closer...
...as neatly as their odd sizes...
The whole thing is clearly this perfume business, a wild hare to say the least, but Evaly's done her research, to give her credit for that much if nothing else. She's got everything from the cost of growing flowers down to the cost of corks for the bottles included in there somewhere, plus the purchase of pamphlets on "how-to." But she still guppy-faces at Bailey's willingness, taking a few seconds to get her mouth around the words, "Errrrr, no particular deadline. The sooner the better, sure, but I don't really have a /date/ in mind. It's all still a pipedream?" Supposedly. Talk of Paddy and his restaurant at least gets the gears turning again properly, though it's to make a face: "He already offered me a job, and I'm just not going to wait tables. It's not for me. Why are you quitting?"
Answering to the latter first, "Not exactly my gig either, but beggars can't be choosers." Thus making her, a beggar? As to why she's quitting, Bailey's eyes draw away, falling onto a vine wrapped column. Quiet. Finally putting a guileless look onto Evaly, "I wish I could tell you. Honestly, I do. But..." a small frown as she struggles to find a way to explain herself without actually doing so, "Let's put it this way, I have something coming up in the near future and until I've spoken to the investor, I'm not at liberty to say anything right now." Business-speak, such a useful tool sometimes. Now she goes back to the topic of the perfume business venture, a smile emerging for the blonde's reaction, "I need a seven or two to free up...my assets, and then you can turn start turning that pipedream, into a reality." The flame of excitement for it all igniting she leans forward a little, "Got somewhere in mind for your garden yet?"
Evaly's joking, if tone and expression can be trusted-- "I'm not so sure that I want to get into business with someone involved in something so clandestine." Her nose twitches humorously at the end there, but she makes no effort to press the matter: what's not her business is not her business. To the latter question, she reaches for the pages, there being a rather rudimentary map of Ista Island in there somewhere. "Yes and no. There's a farmer who must be nearing his hundredth Turnday by now. He lives about an hour's hike from the Weyr, and he's got this plot off at the edge of his property I'm thinking he might lease to me. He's not exactly using it otherwise. It would keep the weyrbrats from picking the posies, I figure."
Bailey can't help but chuckle for the tease, though still smiling, her tone suggests utter earnestness in her next, "I tell you what. As soon as I've spoken to the investor, you shall be the first to know about this little...clandestine operation of mine, hmm? Call it an act of," the smile deepening into a crooked grin, "good faith and transparency?" Attention called to the map, the brunette gives it due inspection, "An hour each way is quite a trek. What are the chances he'd let you build a little cottage to stay over some nights?" On the subject of weyrbrats there comes a soft snort, "Those little blighters would pick you blind. Them and love struck Romeos, no doubt." Eyes lighting with hopefulness, "Could I help? You know, to pick the flowers when they're ready?"
"Oh, how I shall wait with baited breath," Evaly answers with her hands clasped together and drawn up under her chin, the portrait of an eager child for the prospect. If only it was authentic. Instead-- "It's not so far, an hour each way. If I set off first thing in the morning, I could be down there and back before breakfast for most days, I'm guessing. But I suppose I could approach him about a cottage, though then I'll have to figure in the cost of construction..." She starts for her pencil again, taking a deep breath like that's just one. more. thing. to add to an already length list. "Would you want to? Help? It won't be all flowers, likely, herbs and such, too. You don't have allergies, I hope?"
Outright laughter now for Evaly's enactment. As it subsides she reaches for one of those fat juicy grapes, popping one into her mouth and chewing on it thoughtfully. Swallowing, "Doesn't seem that far now, but after putting in a hard day's work?" shrugging, "Just something to think about. Though at first perhaps something like a strong canvas shelter such as we used down at Southern when working a new area might suffice? Doesn't take long to put together and doesn't cost much either." Another grape plucked up and eaten as Bailey nods eagerly, "I'd love to! That is if you wouldn't mind? I love flowers, they're always so, cheerful." As to the query put to her, it's clear to see the brunette is fighting hard to bite some or other comment back. Probably something inappropriate such as her only allergy being to things spice related that have the unfortunate effect of misshaping her mid-section. As it is, she doesn't and whilst displaying high humour shakes her head firmly, "Uh, not that I know of, no. My only allergy, is to poverty," wink.
"See, you say that," Evaly begins, wagging her finger disparagingly at the words 'doesn't cost much,' "but every little bit winds up counting in the end. It's called being 'nickel and dimed' right out of your profit." Archaic terminology, evidently. There's a short, bright laugh in return for talk of poverty, eyes on the paper in front of her to scribble down something about a shelter of some sort-- check the cost of canvas, probably-- and she answers, "Alas for us both, poverty is as prevalent as dandelions and even more difficult to kill. But, when everything gets going, I'd be happy for the company. It's going to take a while, though I could probably start planting sooner rather than later. The deal I'm cooking up with the glasscrafter involves buying all his supposedly defective stock. It took some doing to find a perfectionist, but he's willing to part with bottles with small flaws for ridiculously few marks."
Bailey makes a playful attempt at trying to catch that waggling finger, "Not if I provide the canvas and wooden supports. You forget, I'm busy outfitting the Even'Star. Which means, that I'll have a couple of old sails and some redundant decking left over. The only cost involved will be a few muscle men to put the thing together." Snapping her fingers, "Oh, but there's one proviso, said muscle men, may not wear shirts for the duration of their labours. Thus providing -free- entertainment for ourselves." Smug the grin for that little plan of hers. The analogy of dandelions and poverty bring forth a snort, "Darling, we're roses, not dandelions. We're just not blooming right now." Leaning back in her seat, hands fluffing the fabric of her sarong away from her, its approval that greets Evaly's talk of glass bottles, "Oh, I'd love to see those when you get them! The bottle you sold Rio, is beautiful."
Evaly, screwing her face up into an expression of distaste, counters, "I think I would just as soon put it up myself, in that case. A bunch of sweating men made to feel useful because they're constructing something I could manage on my own?" She shakes her head-- girlfriend, please!-- and concludes, "And you can just come down afterward when it's quite finished. It will be... plush accommodations, I'm sure." Yeahno. Roses and dandelions gets a half-derisive snicker, not buying that one, and she presses on with, "When I start getting them," the bottles, "in, I'll let you know. That's a waaaaaays down the line yet."
A brow arches up waaay up high, "You're totally missing the point here, Evaly. While we are indeed quite capable of putting together such a thing on our own, why -not- afford ourselves the chance to objectify men in the same manner they do us, hmm? Actually, I might know someone who's had a little something to do with construction and doesn't look half bad without a shirt on. Might even do it for nothing more than a 'skin of water," sly the quirk of lips, "Heck, if we can tear him away from those infernal meetings of his for long enough, I'm sure Rio could be talked into helping too. Unless of course," eyes widening a smidge at the thought, "You're into woman?" Her turn to waggle a finger on the topic of plush accommodations, "Don't knock it 'til you tried it. Those shelters can be made to be quite cosy." Back to business minus the silliness now, "So, first things first. What you're in need of right now, is seed money, aye?" pardon the pun.
woman=women
As for all the rest of it, the objectification of men, bringing Rio, the whole bit, all Evaly can answer is, "Because two wrongs make a right?" Another tired but true argument, complete with a helpless shrug at the end. "If it's what will make you happy, Bailey, you invite whoever you want to." Back to business, with a few pages shuffled around to look for one in particular-- which she's now having trouble locating. While the actual maths and pre-planning may be her forte, she's clearly not so good with organizing her notes. "Precisely. Seed money. Not just yours, of course. If I can get a few people to invest, then all I have to do is, over time, buy back their original investment, and voila. My very own business."
With no recalcitrance whatsoever in the face of Evaly's morality, "Verrry, verrry, right," grin. Bailey had likely been teasing in any event, the chuckle that meets the blonde's capitulation, alluding to as much. Reaching for a grape, its path to her mouth is hesitates and then completes, a light frown forming as she chews. Swallowing, "Too many fingers in one pie such a good idea?" A half-formed smile hovers, "And what if I decide I don't want to be bought out? That in actual fact, the perfume business has proven to be too good an investment to let go?" not completely serious and likely couched in such a way as to give the other woman pause for thought, "You need contracts with some or other protection clause in it for yourself." A business of her own she may not have, but there definitely appears to be some working knowledge of at least some aspects of such things.
A roll of her eyes ends the discussion of right and wrong and shirtless men, leaving Evaly to explain, "Most people will just be silent partners. They give me X amount of marks, I pay them a percentage based on their original investment until I'm able to buy them back outright. It's really fairly simple." And she's got it all written down here somewhere. "Should you find, down the line, that you don't care to be bought out... well, I suppose you're right about putting things in writing, though then that brings in the whole issue of paying a harper to draw up formal contracts and good gracious." She just thunks her head down on the table, audibly, drowning in her nickel-and-dime issue.
Bailey listens quietly as the plan on how to approach the matter of investors is outlined, nodding her agreement with what is said. As that blonde head drops to the table, she can't help the small snicker that escapes, there is however, no malice intended neither is there any real amusement found in the distress of another. Tossing a grape at Evaly's bowed head, "You should go talk to Paddy. His brother's a harper and as I understand it, fiddling with the finer details such as contracts his somewhat his thing. Perhaps he'd do it for a small share of profit over a period of however many turns you feel would be fair as payment?"
...such as contracts is somewhat his thing...
Go talk to Paddy, she suggests, and Evaly sighs without pulling up her head just yet. It's dark and cozy as long as she keeps her face like that. "Maybe I will, though then I'll feel bad that I don't want to work for him, but I obviously /need/ work..." She trails off, that being a vicious cycle with no pleasant conclusion. So. "I'll figure it out," she concludes certainly, lifting up her head now and trying to look confidently stern. "It's not exactly like I have so much else going on that poring over this can't be a priority." Implication: surely Bailey has better things to do.
Setting a firm look onto Evaly, Bailey offers her own outlook on the matter, "It's not that you need work, so much as you're starting a new business and need help with setting it all up." There's a difference. To her mind anyway. Sadly, the brunette does indeed have other things in need of her attention. Standing to her feet, she skirts around the table until she's standing behind and just to the left of the blonde, "If anyone can make this work, I have the utmost faith that it will be you." Reaching a hand out to put a re-assuring touch to the other's shoulder if she doesn't flinch away, "Just know that I consider you a friend and as such, my door is always open. Even if its just to take that head clearing break out on the sea for a bit, aye?"
Evaly doesn't shy from the patpat, just offers over a quick, at least marginally reassured smile for Bailey. "Thanks. I promise to keep that in mind." Which isn't quite the same thing as promising to take her up on the offer, but we can assume that Bailey will notice the difference on her own. "I'll figure it out," she reminds-- herself? Bailey? Whichever. With another resolute breath, she tries to bury herself in her work again, sorting out the ruffled pages onto the table in front of her.
With a warm smile Bailey allows Evaly the illusion that her feigned sense of reassurance went over well. Stepping back, before turning to leave, "You're not alone, Evaly," heartfelt truth. She lingers a heartbeat or two longer, casting a long look over the woman hunched over her pieces of paper, the edges of a fond expression in place and then she's finally leaving the blonde to it and stepping out of the pavilion and back to wherever next her activities dictate.
IC Date: 12/2/22
Garden Pavilion, Ista Weyr(#1904RJ)
The sweep of lush green grass brings the eye to the pavilion, built square in the middle of the lawn. Tall, heavy wooden columns ensnared by the steady growth of Istan white flower-vines, leads to the slate grey roofing. Colorful vegetation grows all along the perimeter, kept healthy and orderly by frequent gardening.
The pavilion itself provides an open, covered space for dining tables or dancing and the flagstones continuing outward form patio for overflow, allowing varied configurations to suit any gathering. To one side is the cooking station with a few simple counters for prep and serving, several small grills and one large one and a bar that that stands unstocked when there's no party in progress. All around the structure and the surrounding area, stretching overhead, are strings of glass globes for glowlight and other festive decorations.
Evaly really needs to get a job. Seriously. Right now, with nothing more pressing to do, she's sitting at one of the tables in the pavilion, eating grapes out of a big bowl, and apparently trying to push around some pages that look mainly like scraps. Occasionally, she pauses in eating grapes or pushing around paper to reach for a pencil and make a mark on a particular scrap of paper kept off to the side: keeping lists, but not exactly in a big rush about it. As often as not, she just puts her elbow on the edge of the table and looks almost longingly out at the decent weather.
Fair weather for a change has drawn many out and about, Bailey being one such person. She's stopped a few paces back from actually entering the pavilion proper, pale eyes flitting over the area with open appreciation. Clearly, she's not been in attendance to any of the functions held here of late. Or ever. It's during her surveyance of the area that her attention lands on Evaly amidst her scraps of paper and bowl of grapes. Steps take her that way, offering with slight amusement for the longing stare into the distance as she nears, "You know, it's even better out there, on the ocean. I won't even charge."
With a glance toward Bailey just quick enough to assign a face to the voice, Evaly goes immediately to the task she's got in front of her - whatever it is. "Sure, but." She even picks up the pencil; see how hard she's working? "I'm trying to be industrious, you see, and taking a nice pleasure cruise really wouldn't play into that very well, would it? Though, admittedly, free entertainment is pretty tempting at the moment. Still." She's resolved!
Bailey doesn't wait for an invitation, slipping into a seat opposite to where the blonde is busy being, 'busy'. Leaning an elbow on the table and cupping her chin into the palm of that hand the other reaches for one of those scraps of paper to draw it nearer in an attempt to try and see exactly what it is that she's so hard at work with. "Mmm," her initial response to Evaly's words, then a slow exhalation of breath into a lazy sigh, "It could help clear your head. Sea air's good for that. Leave it all behind for a while and just...breathe." Blue eyes settle on the other woman, sincerity in both her expression and voice, "I'm so sorry it didn't happen for you, Evaly."
Evaly's busy-work seems to have a lot to do with money - big surprise. She's obviously been at least somewhat industrious, as the notes look to be matters of cost: how much will a whole host of things cost, ranging from bulbs and seeds to glass bottles to a large stock pot. "Ahhh, but." Again with the but. "If I clear my head, then I'll lose all the work I've already stashed away up there, and have to start over again from square one. It's not always advisable to clear one's head, I'm thinking." The more sincere remarks have her look up again, across the table, and cock her head. Honestly; "It's okay. I'm really pretty all right with it."
Seeing as how Evaly doesn't seem to object to the brunette's initial snooping, she draws another scrap closer, picks it up, scans the notes, sets it down and then takes up another. A contemplative sound hums in the back of her throat as she peruses the figures on yet another. Setting an intent look onto the blonde, Bailey asks, "Got an idea yet of what setting something like this up will cost?" Next her mouth tilts up at one corner into a crooked smile, "You got more balls than I have. Taking a risk like that."
"Just short of an outrageous sum," Evaly replies with humor, rolling her eyes a little at the dramatic quality of her own response, but not going so far as to revise it. Instead, she adds, "I'm going to start looking for investors soon, if that waitressing gig of yours actually pays well enough that you're looking for an adventure with your marks." Brows wiggle invitingly, yes? Exciting? No. Back to the other matter, she shrugs; "It seemed like a silly thing to say no to. Really, it's not like was so tremendously pleased with my situation that I needed to fight tooth-and-nail to stay where I was, you know?"
Bailey meets that with a short chuckle, "Everything is relative to how much you have to begin with." While Evaly may have commented in jest, the brunette appears to take the matter very seriously. So much so that all the scraps of paper, save the one the blonde is currently working on and drawn closer and given closer study, her brows crinkling a little here and there in concentration. As such, a silence forms and draws out until finally, stacking them all on top of each other as neatly as there odd sizes will allow for and setting them to one side, the sea-trader's fingers lace together before her and she nods, "Okay, I'm in. When do you need the capital by?" Which coming from someone who doesn't appears to have much herself, might be more than a little surprising. As she awaits the other woman's response her mouth turns into a wry smile as she points out, "The marks you were making beforehand?" cushioning her words right after with, "Look, I'm not going to be able to stay on at the restaurant for much longer than another month or two, so if you're looking for part time work, I can put a word in with Paddy for you. Pay's not fantastic, but the tips aren't too bad. And with it only being four days out of seven, you'd still have time to start getting all of this together."
...currently working on are drawn closer...
...as neatly as their odd sizes...
The whole thing is clearly this perfume business, a wild hare to say the least, but Evaly's done her research, to give her credit for that much if nothing else. She's got everything from the cost of growing flowers down to the cost of corks for the bottles included in there somewhere, plus the purchase of pamphlets on "how-to." But she still guppy-faces at Bailey's willingness, taking a few seconds to get her mouth around the words, "Errrrr, no particular deadline. The sooner the better, sure, but I don't really have a /date/ in mind. It's all still a pipedream?" Supposedly. Talk of Paddy and his restaurant at least gets the gears turning again properly, though it's to make a face: "He already offered me a job, and I'm just not going to wait tables. It's not for me. Why are you quitting?"
Answering to the latter first, "Not exactly my gig either, but beggars can't be choosers." Thus making her, a beggar? As to why she's quitting, Bailey's eyes draw away, falling onto a vine wrapped column. Quiet. Finally putting a guileless look onto Evaly, "I wish I could tell you. Honestly, I do. But..." a small frown as she struggles to find a way to explain herself without actually doing so, "Let's put it this way, I have something coming up in the near future and until I've spoken to the investor, I'm not at liberty to say anything right now." Business-speak, such a useful tool sometimes. Now she goes back to the topic of the perfume business venture, a smile emerging for the blonde's reaction, "I need a seven or two to free up...my assets, and then you can turn start turning that pipedream, into a reality." The flame of excitement for it all igniting she leans forward a little, "Got somewhere in mind for your garden yet?"
Evaly's joking, if tone and expression can be trusted-- "I'm not so sure that I want to get into business with someone involved in something so clandestine." Her nose twitches humorously at the end there, but she makes no effort to press the matter: what's not her business is not her business. To the latter question, she reaches for the pages, there being a rather rudimentary map of Ista Island in there somewhere. "Yes and no. There's a farmer who must be nearing his hundredth Turnday by now. He lives about an hour's hike from the Weyr, and he's got this plot off at the edge of his property I'm thinking he might lease to me. He's not exactly using it otherwise. It would keep the weyrbrats from picking the posies, I figure."
Bailey can't help but chuckle for the tease, though still smiling, her tone suggests utter earnestness in her next, "I tell you what. As soon as I've spoken to the investor, you shall be the first to know about this little...clandestine operation of mine, hmm? Call it an act of," the smile deepening into a crooked grin, "good faith and transparency?" Attention called to the map, the brunette gives it due inspection, "An hour each way is quite a trek. What are the chances he'd let you build a little cottage to stay over some nights?" On the subject of weyrbrats there comes a soft snort, "Those little blighters would pick you blind. Them and love struck Romeos, no doubt." Eyes lighting with hopefulness, "Could I help? You know, to pick the flowers when they're ready?"
"Oh, how I shall wait with baited breath," Evaly answers with her hands clasped together and drawn up under her chin, the portrait of an eager child for the prospect. If only it was authentic. Instead-- "It's not so far, an hour each way. If I set off first thing in the morning, I could be down there and back before breakfast for most days, I'm guessing. But I suppose I could approach him about a cottage, though then I'll have to figure in the cost of construction..." She starts for her pencil again, taking a deep breath like that's just one. more. thing. to add to an already length list. "Would you want to? Help? It won't be all flowers, likely, herbs and such, too. You don't have allergies, I hope?"
Outright laughter now for Evaly's enactment. As it subsides she reaches for one of those fat juicy grapes, popping one into her mouth and chewing on it thoughtfully. Swallowing, "Doesn't seem that far now, but after putting in a hard day's work?" shrugging, "Just something to think about. Though at first perhaps something like a strong canvas shelter such as we used down at Southern when working a new area might suffice? Doesn't take long to put together and doesn't cost much either." Another grape plucked up and eaten as Bailey nods eagerly, "I'd love to! That is if you wouldn't mind? I love flowers, they're always so, cheerful." As to the query put to her, it's clear to see the brunette is fighting hard to bite some or other comment back. Probably something inappropriate such as her only allergy being to things spice related that have the unfortunate effect of misshaping her mid-section. As it is, she doesn't and whilst displaying high humour shakes her head firmly, "Uh, not that I know of, no. My only allergy, is to poverty," wink.
"See, you say that," Evaly begins, wagging her finger disparagingly at the words 'doesn't cost much,' "but every little bit winds up counting in the end. It's called being 'nickel and dimed' right out of your profit." Archaic terminology, evidently. There's a short, bright laugh in return for talk of poverty, eyes on the paper in front of her to scribble down something about a shelter of some sort-- check the cost of canvas, probably-- and she answers, "Alas for us both, poverty is as prevalent as dandelions and even more difficult to kill. But, when everything gets going, I'd be happy for the company. It's going to take a while, though I could probably start planting sooner rather than later. The deal I'm cooking up with the glasscrafter involves buying all his supposedly defective stock. It took some doing to find a perfectionist, but he's willing to part with bottles with small flaws for ridiculously few marks."
Bailey makes a playful attempt at trying to catch that waggling finger, "Not if I provide the canvas and wooden supports. You forget, I'm busy outfitting the Even'Star. Which means, that I'll have a couple of old sails and some redundant decking left over. The only cost involved will be a few muscle men to put the thing together." Snapping her fingers, "Oh, but there's one proviso, said muscle men, may not wear shirts for the duration of their labours. Thus providing -free- entertainment for ourselves." Smug the grin for that little plan of hers. The analogy of dandelions and poverty bring forth a snort, "Darling, we're roses, not dandelions. We're just not blooming right now." Leaning back in her seat, hands fluffing the fabric of her sarong away from her, its approval that greets Evaly's talk of glass bottles, "Oh, I'd love to see those when you get them! The bottle you sold Rio, is beautiful."
Evaly, screwing her face up into an expression of distaste, counters, "I think I would just as soon put it up myself, in that case. A bunch of sweating men made to feel useful because they're constructing something I could manage on my own?" She shakes her head-- girlfriend, please!-- and concludes, "And you can just come down afterward when it's quite finished. It will be... plush accommodations, I'm sure." Yeahno. Roses and dandelions gets a half-derisive snicker, not buying that one, and she presses on with, "When I start getting them," the bottles, "in, I'll let you know. That's a waaaaaays down the line yet."
A brow arches up waaay up high, "You're totally missing the point here, Evaly. While we are indeed quite capable of putting together such a thing on our own, why -not- afford ourselves the chance to objectify men in the same manner they do us, hmm? Actually, I might know someone who's had a little something to do with construction and doesn't look half bad without a shirt on. Might even do it for nothing more than a 'skin of water," sly the quirk of lips, "Heck, if we can tear him away from those infernal meetings of his for long enough, I'm sure Rio could be talked into helping too. Unless of course," eyes widening a smidge at the thought, "You're into woman?" Her turn to waggle a finger on the topic of plush accommodations, "Don't knock it 'til you tried it. Those shelters can be made to be quite cosy." Back to business minus the silliness now, "So, first things first. What you're in need of right now, is seed money, aye?" pardon the pun.
woman=women
As for all the rest of it, the objectification of men, bringing Rio, the whole bit, all Evaly can answer is, "Because two wrongs make a right?" Another tired but true argument, complete with a helpless shrug at the end. "If it's what will make you happy, Bailey, you invite whoever you want to." Back to business, with a few pages shuffled around to look for one in particular-- which she's now having trouble locating. While the actual maths and pre-planning may be her forte, she's clearly not so good with organizing her notes. "Precisely. Seed money. Not just yours, of course. If I can get a few people to invest, then all I have to do is, over time, buy back their original investment, and voila. My very own business."
With no recalcitrance whatsoever in the face of Evaly's morality, "Verrry, verrry, right," grin. Bailey had likely been teasing in any event, the chuckle that meets the blonde's capitulation, alluding to as much. Reaching for a grape, its path to her mouth is hesitates and then completes, a light frown forming as she chews. Swallowing, "Too many fingers in one pie such a good idea?" A half-formed smile hovers, "And what if I decide I don't want to be bought out? That in actual fact, the perfume business has proven to be too good an investment to let go?" not completely serious and likely couched in such a way as to give the other woman pause for thought, "You need contracts with some or other protection clause in it for yourself." A business of her own she may not have, but there definitely appears to be some working knowledge of at least some aspects of such things.
A roll of her eyes ends the discussion of right and wrong and shirtless men, leaving Evaly to explain, "Most people will just be silent partners. They give me X amount of marks, I pay them a percentage based on their original investment until I'm able to buy them back outright. It's really fairly simple." And she's got it all written down here somewhere. "Should you find, down the line, that you don't care to be bought out... well, I suppose you're right about putting things in writing, though then that brings in the whole issue of paying a harper to draw up formal contracts and good gracious." She just thunks her head down on the table, audibly, drowning in her nickel-and-dime issue.
Bailey listens quietly as the plan on how to approach the matter of investors is outlined, nodding her agreement with what is said. As that blonde head drops to the table, she can't help the small snicker that escapes, there is however, no malice intended neither is there any real amusement found in the distress of another. Tossing a grape at Evaly's bowed head, "You should go talk to Paddy. His brother's a harper and as I understand it, fiddling with the finer details such as contracts his somewhat his thing. Perhaps he'd do it for a small share of profit over a period of however many turns you feel would be fair as payment?"
...such as contracts is somewhat his thing...
Go talk to Paddy, she suggests, and Evaly sighs without pulling up her head just yet. It's dark and cozy as long as she keeps her face like that. "Maybe I will, though then I'll feel bad that I don't want to work for him, but I obviously /need/ work..." She trails off, that being a vicious cycle with no pleasant conclusion. So. "I'll figure it out," she concludes certainly, lifting up her head now and trying to look confidently stern. "It's not exactly like I have so much else going on that poring over this can't be a priority." Implication: surely Bailey has better things to do.
Setting a firm look onto Evaly, Bailey offers her own outlook on the matter, "It's not that you need work, so much as you're starting a new business and need help with setting it all up." There's a difference. To her mind anyway. Sadly, the brunette does indeed have other things in need of her attention. Standing to her feet, she skirts around the table until she's standing behind and just to the left of the blonde, "If anyone can make this work, I have the utmost faith that it will be you." Reaching a hand out to put a re-assuring touch to the other's shoulder if she doesn't flinch away, "Just know that I consider you a friend and as such, my door is always open. Even if its just to take that head clearing break out on the sea for a bit, aye?"
Evaly doesn't shy from the patpat, just offers over a quick, at least marginally reassured smile for Bailey. "Thanks. I promise to keep that in mind." Which isn't quite the same thing as promising to take her up on the offer, but we can assume that Bailey will notice the difference on her own. "I'll figure it out," she reminds-- herself? Bailey? Whichever. With another resolute breath, she tries to bury herself in her work again, sorting out the ruffled pages onto the table in front of her.
With a warm smile Bailey allows Evaly the illusion that her feigned sense of reassurance went over well. Stepping back, before turning to leave, "You're not alone, Evaly," heartfelt truth. She lingers a heartbeat or two longer, casting a long look over the woman hunched over her pieces of paper, the edges of a fond expression in place and then she's finally leaving the blonde to it and stepping out of the pavilion and back to wherever next her activities dictate.