Log: A Bad Day for Sales
A BAD DAY FOR SALES
Act I
It's not particularly often that Halsten spends much time at all in here. Today, however, with the weather so lousy outside... well, we'll just say it's a bad day for sales. He's holed up inside in the library, sitting at a table with a small stack of books, one of them open as he hunches over it reading. Occasionally he takes a note on a pad beside the book. Not in the book, someone would disapprove of that.
"Didn't have this down as your kind of place." It's at the end of a row of shelves that Eirlys loiters, half a dozen books in the crook of her left arm. Not large volumes, lucky for her, or there might be risk of her toppling over, unbalanced. She looks up from checking the spine of one book, brows raised, focus wandering from book to Halsten and back again before she decides that she's got the right place for the former and files it back in amongst its fellows.
"Research," Halsten counters, pushing the book away from him along the tabletop but not closing it, sitting back in his chair. "I wouldn't have said it was yours, either." All of which establishes only that they probably don't really know each other very well. Surprised? Anybody? "What have you got, there?" A crane of neck to try to read what at least one of her titles might happen to be. Then he straightens, taps the open book in front of him. "Whole books on gambling out there. You wouldn't think gamblers would be the type to write books."
Eirlys lifts the top book and waggles it like she'd make it easier to see, but likely only succeeds in making it impossible to read its title. "This fascinating volume in particular concerns tithes from two decades ago," she replies, obviously really trying to sell it. She shrugs and gives up almost immediately, admitting, "People left books out and I thought I'd put them back." She must be bored. Ambling closer, she balances the remaining books, hugging them to her. "Gamblers writing books... Either very unwise and giving away secrets or just to work the ego and gloat."
Brows climb a bit. "How very tidy of you." Halsten grins, though, and shifts to pull out the neighboring chair. "Hardly urgent, is it?" He doesn't put his feet up into the chair immediately, so presumably it's meant to be an offer. "Not so much on the secrets. Probabilities. Odds. That sort of thing. I don't think I could use someone else's secrets, anyway. Too much worry that someone else had read the same book, you know? I have all my own secrets, and I'm not writing them down anytime soon."
"Don't," Eirlys says with a smirk and roll of her eyes. "Next thing you know, I'll be sitting in a corner knitting and telling tales of old." Slow steps carry her across to the chair and she folds down into it without thanks, though she does nod in place of them. The books get arranged on her knees, all stacked up relatively neatly. "Huh. So are you the gambler or the gamblee...?" She snorts, amending, "The other guy?" Another moment and she asks, "Or is the research the beginnings of a plan and intent to gamble?"
As she sits, Halsten finally does close his book, stack it with the others, pull them both out of her way so that if she cared to put hers on the table, she could. "In poker, you're pretty much all in competition with one another. But at the moment, it's less that than bookmaking. Did you hear about the fight? Not that I'd think that sort of thing would be... the sort of place you'd hang around, rough crowd and all." There's a smirk at the corners of his mouth. "Just trying to figure out how... maximize returns on that sort of thing for the house."
"I've heard murmurs about something, but you know how it goes: there're a dozen different versions of whatever happened going around by noon the next day," Eirlys replies, placing her collected texts one by one onto to the table so that they sit stacked in reverse order. She grins sharply, though has to admit, "People beating the crap out of each other is usually for some complicated reason or another, so I'm not normally anywhere near that sort of thing. Fighting for fighting's sake might be different." Glancing across, she questions, "Who's the house?"
Shoulders lift. "Yeah, not so complicated when it's for its own sake. I could really care less what they're doing, I'm just taking bets. Long as I don't have to punch anybody..." Hal shakes his head. "Strictly speaking, I'm on commission. I suppose Loe's the house. Her game. Or one of 'em." For some reason, there's a faint smile for that, but he moves on quickly. "I get thirty percent of the house take. It behooves me to ensure that the house take is as high as it is possible to get it. Provided we do this again. I haven't heard when it happens next. If it is. Maybe next time, you could come keep me company."
"People know what they're signing up for and they want to hit each other, I say let them, take the money and run." Agreement of some sort, Eirlys' voice dry, then to correct, "Maybe not run, but you get the idea." Cold laughter follows and she shakes her head, saying, "I'm sure I should be surprised that it's Loe, but I'm not. Nobody who smiles like that is really all sweetness. Thirty percent's more than I'd've thought she'd hand over, though." She nods just the once, thoughtful. "Provided that it happens again and I'm not likely to get flattened by anyone, I'm sure I could keep you company."
Leaning in, Halsten says with a grin, "Evidently I drive a pretty hard bargain." Laden with innuendo, but evidently that's enough to set him off into laughter, which it takes him a minute to stifle completely. "Sorry. Think it's mostly just a matter of uncommon skills. Done it before on a smaller scale, anyhow. All the fractions of marks to deal with, that sort of thing. I happen to be pretty good at math. There's a line, right? Hey, baby, I can do *math*." He straightens again. "I don't think there'll be any flattening happening."
Eirlys smirks again and tilts her head his way to murmur, "I'm also not surprised that that's how you bargain," choosing to take the innuendo somewhat seriously and just about managing to keep her own laughter back. "Can't say that I've ever been seduced by math skills before, but if everything works out and I'm there to keep you company, there's a first time for everything. Who signs up to fight, anyhow? Just anyone wanders along and...?"
That, Halsten has to puzzle over for a moment, brow furrowed. "You know, I really don't know where they found them. Or how they're going to find 'em next time, now that Ch'son's Weyrleader and all. He'd be the big draw to do it again, I would think." He shrugs, finally, and grins at her. "Guess it's not really too hard to find guys willing to punch each other even without marks involved. Bet they could've just had people out of the crowd pretty easy."
"Depending on how he gets on with that knot, there might be a whole load of people up for fighting him 'off the record'," Eirlys considers. "Important people. Maybe people are better than I think, but I'd have thought there'd be plenty of people interested in that. Lots of marks to be had." She sighs and slouches in her chair, head tipped back. "But /that/ would be complicated and not fighting for the heck of it, really. That could get really ugly." Smiling, she tilts her head his way again. "Have I not told you yet that I rarely look on the bright side?"
Halsten's grin fades as he considers this, wheels obviously turning somewhere in his head as he ponders this over. "It could get ugly," he agrees at least. "But it could be profitable. Risk and reward. That's how it works, isn't it?" But the last makes him smile again, and he reaches over to tweak her ear. "My optimistic girl. It's all right. Somebody's got to think of those things, I'm sure. And if you were too chipper, that would probably be really... annoying."
"Perky people, now /they/ need flattening. People might pay to see that, too," Eirlys jokes, so deadpan that it might seem like she isn't teasing at all. "I think it's only fair that Ch'son gets a few months with the important title before anyone starts lining up people with grievances. Plus... uglier still, but it'd give them time to dwell and get really pissed." Maybe that's a bit much, even for her, and she grimaces and waves it all off quickly. "I shouldn't be thinking of how to make you marks," she states, joking more freely this time.
"Whyever not?" Halsten is more than willing to leave those other thoughts behind, it seems. He starts to gather up his books towards him. "Probably ought to put these back," he muses, before returning to the other: "I'm not so vain I can't tell a good idea when I see one. And besides, if I've got more in my pocket, why shouldn't I share it around? Maybe when I'm rich and famous instead of just good-looking, I'll have plenty to be showering you with presents and pretty baubles." A wry smile. "If you're nice to me."
"Because maybe I could be making /me/ marks," Eirlys declares, managing to look utterly disinterested at the prospect of making money at the same time. Her little smile remains as sharp as ever, however, there's something faintly forced about it, though it's not all that clear whether that control is there to keep it there or fight it back. "I'm perfectly capable of being nice to you without presents or pretty baubles," she says a touch more quietly, some seriousness there rather than innuendo.
It's something about that disinterest that gets the bright laugh in return. Or that seriousness. Halsten reaches out to touch her shoulder. "You are indeed quite capable of that. But don't you think you deserve nice things? Not that you aren't lovely all on your own, but I figured every girl had something. Bracelets or shoes or flowers or little expensive fruit-flavored candies imported across an ocean... something." Then he withdraws to pick up his books, wander with them back to the nearby shelf they came from, though he glances back at her with eyebrows raised: Well?
Eirlys says nothing of the touch to her shoulder, yet she doesn't flinch away and observes the journey from table to shelves in silence. She just stares for little while and allows her smile to fade, replaced by a bemused or troubled expression. "I... don't know. I'm not the girl men buy anything for. I mean, it's not like they /need/ to, is it? Not for the reasons they often do that. I don't suppose I'd know what to do if someone did. That sort of stuff is for other girls." She shrugs, clearly a bit unsettled; tries for another answer and ends up just shrugging her shoulders again.
"Sometimes," Hal says as he comes back, pauses and holds onto the back of the chair instead of sitting back down in it again, "a gift is not just a way to get a girl into bed. Sometimes a gift is just... a gift. Something to make her smile. Smiling, in moderation, can do a lot for the quality of the experience." Okay, so that's still related to sex, but at least it's quality over quantity? He grins down at her. "So, if it was going to be something. Anything. You have no idea what it'd be? None whatsoever?"
Rather dubious about that first bit of information, Eirlys looks. She looks up to meet his gaze, silent again and annoyed with herself from how she sets her jaw. After a long moment, she glances away again and down at the floor, perhaps just determined to think and not state 'I don't know' again, thinking time only leaving her with a painfully awkward, "...Jewellery is nice. But then girls go around wearing it, looking like they've been bought and everyone knows it."
The scowl that crosses Halsten's face is obviously not particularly serious, given the way it breaks into a grin the moment he can't hold it anymore. "You're not allowed to complain if it's something you don't like, then. But no jewelry that makes you look bought and paid for. I'll remember that." He taps his temple as though indicating that this information is now safely stored away. "Now, if you'll 'scuse me, I have a supplier I'm supposed to be meeting with any minute now, and the more cross they get if you're late, the higher the prices get."
Eirlys can make her peace with that, it seems, and nods the once when she peers up at him again, saying only, "Alright." Acknowledgement. Agreement. Something. "Go on, run," she quickly insists, nodding towards the entrance of the library. "I'm no more interested in losing you marks than making them," the assistant headwoman declares with a grin. "Plus, then I can say that I didn't proposition you in the library." Could have said. So close. "Good luck with whoever it is."
"You can proposition me anytime, anywhere. Doesn't mean it has to happen right then." Hal just seems so terribly pleased with that, for some reason, never mind what he should full well have expected given every other time they've met. He moves over closer to her, leans in to snag a kiss if he can manage it--the light brush of lips kind, nothing more than that--and then says, "See you around, mushroom." Only he could deliver that with a completely straight face and not come off sounding completely out of his mind. He does, however, grin right after, then turn to head out to his meeting.
Act I
It's not particularly often that Halsten spends much time at all in here. Today, however, with the weather so lousy outside... well, we'll just say it's a bad day for sales. He's holed up inside in the library, sitting at a table with a small stack of books, one of them open as he hunches over it reading. Occasionally he takes a note on a pad beside the book. Not in the book, someone would disapprove of that.
"Didn't have this down as your kind of place." It's at the end of a row of shelves that Eirlys loiters, half a dozen books in the crook of her left arm. Not large volumes, lucky for her, or there might be risk of her toppling over, unbalanced. She looks up from checking the spine of one book, brows raised, focus wandering from book to Halsten and back again before she decides that she's got the right place for the former and files it back in amongst its fellows.
"Research," Halsten counters, pushing the book away from him along the tabletop but not closing it, sitting back in his chair. "I wouldn't have said it was yours, either." All of which establishes only that they probably don't really know each other very well. Surprised? Anybody? "What have you got, there?" A crane of neck to try to read what at least one of her titles might happen to be. Then he straightens, taps the open book in front of him. "Whole books on gambling out there. You wouldn't think gamblers would be the type to write books."
Eirlys lifts the top book and waggles it like she'd make it easier to see, but likely only succeeds in making it impossible to read its title. "This fascinating volume in particular concerns tithes from two decades ago," she replies, obviously really trying to sell it. She shrugs and gives up almost immediately, admitting, "People left books out and I thought I'd put them back." She must be bored. Ambling closer, she balances the remaining books, hugging them to her. "Gamblers writing books... Either very unwise and giving away secrets or just to work the ego and gloat."
Brows climb a bit. "How very tidy of you." Halsten grins, though, and shifts to pull out the neighboring chair. "Hardly urgent, is it?" He doesn't put his feet up into the chair immediately, so presumably it's meant to be an offer. "Not so much on the secrets. Probabilities. Odds. That sort of thing. I don't think I could use someone else's secrets, anyway. Too much worry that someone else had read the same book, you know? I have all my own secrets, and I'm not writing them down anytime soon."
"Don't," Eirlys says with a smirk and roll of her eyes. "Next thing you know, I'll be sitting in a corner knitting and telling tales of old." Slow steps carry her across to the chair and she folds down into it without thanks, though she does nod in place of them. The books get arranged on her knees, all stacked up relatively neatly. "Huh. So are you the gambler or the gamblee...?" She snorts, amending, "The other guy?" Another moment and she asks, "Or is the research the beginnings of a plan and intent to gamble?"
As she sits, Halsten finally does close his book, stack it with the others, pull them both out of her way so that if she cared to put hers on the table, she could. "In poker, you're pretty much all in competition with one another. But at the moment, it's less that than bookmaking. Did you hear about the fight? Not that I'd think that sort of thing would be... the sort of place you'd hang around, rough crowd and all." There's a smirk at the corners of his mouth. "Just trying to figure out how... maximize returns on that sort of thing for the house."
"I've heard murmurs about something, but you know how it goes: there're a dozen different versions of whatever happened going around by noon the next day," Eirlys replies, placing her collected texts one by one onto to the table so that they sit stacked in reverse order. She grins sharply, though has to admit, "People beating the crap out of each other is usually for some complicated reason or another, so I'm not normally anywhere near that sort of thing. Fighting for fighting's sake might be different." Glancing across, she questions, "Who's the house?"
Shoulders lift. "Yeah, not so complicated when it's for its own sake. I could really care less what they're doing, I'm just taking bets. Long as I don't have to punch anybody..." Hal shakes his head. "Strictly speaking, I'm on commission. I suppose Loe's the house. Her game. Or one of 'em." For some reason, there's a faint smile for that, but he moves on quickly. "I get thirty percent of the house take. It behooves me to ensure that the house take is as high as it is possible to get it. Provided we do this again. I haven't heard when it happens next. If it is. Maybe next time, you could come keep me company."
"People know what they're signing up for and they want to hit each other, I say let them, take the money and run." Agreement of some sort, Eirlys' voice dry, then to correct, "Maybe not run, but you get the idea." Cold laughter follows and she shakes her head, saying, "I'm sure I should be surprised that it's Loe, but I'm not. Nobody who smiles like that is really all sweetness. Thirty percent's more than I'd've thought she'd hand over, though." She nods just the once, thoughtful. "Provided that it happens again and I'm not likely to get flattened by anyone, I'm sure I could keep you company."
Leaning in, Halsten says with a grin, "Evidently I drive a pretty hard bargain." Laden with innuendo, but evidently that's enough to set him off into laughter, which it takes him a minute to stifle completely. "Sorry. Think it's mostly just a matter of uncommon skills. Done it before on a smaller scale, anyhow. All the fractions of marks to deal with, that sort of thing. I happen to be pretty good at math. There's a line, right? Hey, baby, I can do *math*." He straightens again. "I don't think there'll be any flattening happening."
Eirlys smirks again and tilts her head his way to murmur, "I'm also not surprised that that's how you bargain," choosing to take the innuendo somewhat seriously and just about managing to keep her own laughter back. "Can't say that I've ever been seduced by math skills before, but if everything works out and I'm there to keep you company, there's a first time for everything. Who signs up to fight, anyhow? Just anyone wanders along and...?"
That, Halsten has to puzzle over for a moment, brow furrowed. "You know, I really don't know where they found them. Or how they're going to find 'em next time, now that Ch'son's Weyrleader and all. He'd be the big draw to do it again, I would think." He shrugs, finally, and grins at her. "Guess it's not really too hard to find guys willing to punch each other even without marks involved. Bet they could've just had people out of the crowd pretty easy."
"Depending on how he gets on with that knot, there might be a whole load of people up for fighting him 'off the record'," Eirlys considers. "Important people. Maybe people are better than I think, but I'd have thought there'd be plenty of people interested in that. Lots of marks to be had." She sighs and slouches in her chair, head tipped back. "But /that/ would be complicated and not fighting for the heck of it, really. That could get really ugly." Smiling, she tilts her head his way again. "Have I not told you yet that I rarely look on the bright side?"
Halsten's grin fades as he considers this, wheels obviously turning somewhere in his head as he ponders this over. "It could get ugly," he agrees at least. "But it could be profitable. Risk and reward. That's how it works, isn't it?" But the last makes him smile again, and he reaches over to tweak her ear. "My optimistic girl. It's all right. Somebody's got to think of those things, I'm sure. And if you were too chipper, that would probably be really... annoying."
"Perky people, now /they/ need flattening. People might pay to see that, too," Eirlys jokes, so deadpan that it might seem like she isn't teasing at all. "I think it's only fair that Ch'son gets a few months with the important title before anyone starts lining up people with grievances. Plus... uglier still, but it'd give them time to dwell and get really pissed." Maybe that's a bit much, even for her, and she grimaces and waves it all off quickly. "I shouldn't be thinking of how to make you marks," she states, joking more freely this time.
"Whyever not?" Halsten is more than willing to leave those other thoughts behind, it seems. He starts to gather up his books towards him. "Probably ought to put these back," he muses, before returning to the other: "I'm not so vain I can't tell a good idea when I see one. And besides, if I've got more in my pocket, why shouldn't I share it around? Maybe when I'm rich and famous instead of just good-looking, I'll have plenty to be showering you with presents and pretty baubles." A wry smile. "If you're nice to me."
"Because maybe I could be making /me/ marks," Eirlys declares, managing to look utterly disinterested at the prospect of making money at the same time. Her little smile remains as sharp as ever, however, there's something faintly forced about it, though it's not all that clear whether that control is there to keep it there or fight it back. "I'm perfectly capable of being nice to you without presents or pretty baubles," she says a touch more quietly, some seriousness there rather than innuendo.
It's something about that disinterest that gets the bright laugh in return. Or that seriousness. Halsten reaches out to touch her shoulder. "You are indeed quite capable of that. But don't you think you deserve nice things? Not that you aren't lovely all on your own, but I figured every girl had something. Bracelets or shoes or flowers or little expensive fruit-flavored candies imported across an ocean... something." Then he withdraws to pick up his books, wander with them back to the nearby shelf they came from, though he glances back at her with eyebrows raised: Well?
Eirlys says nothing of the touch to her shoulder, yet she doesn't flinch away and observes the journey from table to shelves in silence. She just stares for little while and allows her smile to fade, replaced by a bemused or troubled expression. "I... don't know. I'm not the girl men buy anything for. I mean, it's not like they /need/ to, is it? Not for the reasons they often do that. I don't suppose I'd know what to do if someone did. That sort of stuff is for other girls." She shrugs, clearly a bit unsettled; tries for another answer and ends up just shrugging her shoulders again.
"Sometimes," Hal says as he comes back, pauses and holds onto the back of the chair instead of sitting back down in it again, "a gift is not just a way to get a girl into bed. Sometimes a gift is just... a gift. Something to make her smile. Smiling, in moderation, can do a lot for the quality of the experience." Okay, so that's still related to sex, but at least it's quality over quantity? He grins down at her. "So, if it was going to be something. Anything. You have no idea what it'd be? None whatsoever?"
Rather dubious about that first bit of information, Eirlys looks. She looks up to meet his gaze, silent again and annoyed with herself from how she sets her jaw. After a long moment, she glances away again and down at the floor, perhaps just determined to think and not state 'I don't know' again, thinking time only leaving her with a painfully awkward, "...Jewellery is nice. But then girls go around wearing it, looking like they've been bought and everyone knows it."
The scowl that crosses Halsten's face is obviously not particularly serious, given the way it breaks into a grin the moment he can't hold it anymore. "You're not allowed to complain if it's something you don't like, then. But no jewelry that makes you look bought and paid for. I'll remember that." He taps his temple as though indicating that this information is now safely stored away. "Now, if you'll 'scuse me, I have a supplier I'm supposed to be meeting with any minute now, and the more cross they get if you're late, the higher the prices get."
Eirlys can make her peace with that, it seems, and nods the once when she peers up at him again, saying only, "Alright." Acknowledgement. Agreement. Something. "Go on, run," she quickly insists, nodding towards the entrance of the library. "I'm no more interested in losing you marks than making them," the assistant headwoman declares with a grin. "Plus, then I can say that I didn't proposition you in the library." Could have said. So close. "Good luck with whoever it is."
"You can proposition me anytime, anywhere. Doesn't mean it has to happen right then." Hal just seems so terribly pleased with that, for some reason, never mind what he should full well have expected given every other time they've met. He moves over closer to her, leans in to snag a kiss if he can manage it--the light brush of lips kind, nothing more than that--and then says, "See you around, mushroom." Only he could deliver that with a completely straight face and not come off sounding completely out of his mind. He does, however, grin right after, then turn to head out to his meeting.