all good!!!! SORRY SO LATE AUGHH work can be less uojeldfsk any time >> soboshutupJune 9 2010, 19:30:31 UTC
Timing can sometimes be everything, but in this case it just happens to be good and that's plenty fine too as the blond walks in through the back in time to hear his name. There has from moment to moment in the City been reason enough to clarify with his whole name but generally that remains only in text form. His voice, at least, is distinct from the other Peter he is aware of--Claire's uncle, as he recalls.
"Max?" he inquires, setting a clipboard down at the end of the bar. Whoever is on duty at present--Amory or Frankie--can deal with it; nobody's sitting there right now anyway. "Hi," a pause and a nod, "Sorry were you waiting long?" It is possible, since sometimes people get there early and he would feel a bit bad but not too bad as an appointment is an appointment. Still, good to know but it doesn't make a difference in his evaluation of her whatever her answer. The only thing that would, would be if she had been late, which she isn't at all. He smiles a little at her, not forced but not the usual kind of smile a person might expect either, barely there but honest with an undertone of welcome to it. Chalk it up to age maybe, experience, or just the bulk of time in general, but he seldom thinks of how he carries himself anymore; comfortable in his skin whether wearing his true age or not. The years themselves come through regardless.
sob! work, it is terrible.aregulargirlJune 9 2010, 20:32:16 UTC
"Yes, that's me," Max replies with a nod, stepping away from the bar. "And no, I just got here a few minutes ago." She smiles back, in a similar fashion to his - polite enough, but more of a half-smile than a full one. It's a smile she's wearing a lot these days, especially at home.
Her own age is much younger than most would probably expect - she's no older than twenty-one at the very most, but carries herself as someone at least a few years older than that. Nine years of a military upbringing and then nine years of having to raise herself required her to grow up quickly.
"Are we waiting for anyone else?" She knows that there's another person who runs the Blue Light - Blue - but isn't sure whether or not she has to meet with them both before she gets hired.
"No," he shakes his head, gesturing for her to follow him. He picks up the clipboard on the way, passing the bar end and doors that lead into the kitchen back area, going for a more unassuming door that leads them into a long corridor, office-building reminiscent in size but not so much the rustic, old-bar look that seems to run through the whole of the Blue Light. Peter rather likes it too.
"Blue trusts me to handle things," though he feels it implies itself, that anything major he will of course run by the actual owner. "This way," he adds, continuing down the hall until he reaches his own office, opening the door for her and holding it.
/pets! also, short tag is short.aregulargirlJune 10 2010, 02:39:46 UTC
Max nods and follows, looking around some more as she does.
"Thanks," she says, stepping through the door. Her hands automatically slip behind her back and she clasps them, a reflex left behind from her days at Manticore. When she realizes what she's doing, she frowns, shifting them so that her thumbs hook through her belt loops instead.
alll tags are good tagggsss <333oshutupJune 10 2010, 04:53:12 UTC
Noting the initial posture, he tucks the observation away for another time--perhaps--and gestures for her to sit at either a couch to one side adjacent to a bookshelf or the chair opposite is own on the closest side of the desk.
"So pleasantries aside I already know what positions you're looking into with us," he prefaces, walking around to his side of said desk, pausing with his hand on a corner, still standing. "The Blue Light is really more laid back, as you could tell I'm sure. We even get a fair number of kids here. So this is more to warn you about what it's not, in all honesty." Here he pauses, rubbing the back of his neck absently. "We do occasionally have less desirable crowds, but those tend to be on curse days, so if you're looking for somewhere with a more exciting night life...not really us." It isn't even that The Blue Light isn't exciting, but the difference between it and many of what could be other options for Max are undeniable.
She nods to him once before choosing to sit in the chair and sits with her hands folded in her lap, elbows resting on the armrests. She frowns slightly, confused about what he means at first, when he mentions warning her about what the Blue Light is not like, and then he makes it clearer at the end.
"Oh, no, I wasn't - I'm not necessarily looking for an exciting job," she explains, unclasping her hands and leaning forward a bit. "Kind of the opposite, actually. I just thought that me having worked security was worth mentioning, since it's something I've done before."
"Then that might work, or rather," he flips through a folder with a few letter sized papers, slipping one out and sliding it across the desk toward her, complete with a ballpoint. "This might work. Fill that out, please," is the basic instruction, unnecessary but he says it while turning away to file the folder back into its respective cabinet. His instincts of people are usually pretty reliable, and truth be known, the blond is aware of how difficult finding a niche can be when one has plenty of capability but perhaps not every arena in which to put it to use. They do what they can, where they fit and he gets the feeling that if a girl who looks like Max was in security, there is more to her than meets the eye. He can relate well enough.
"We'll start you out as discussed before, once a week on bar, the other shifts waiting tables unless you prefer less interaction--busing or kitchen help, for instance," he does not quite frown but pauses, finally taking seat across from her.
Max nods, beginning to fill out the information that the sheet asks her for. She nods again as he informs her what she'll be starting out doing. She's personally fine with not all of her skills being put to use in jobs, since chances are she'll be using them in her off hours anyway (both in the City and at home).
"That's fine," she says with a nod as she finishes filling the sheet out. "Waiting, that is. My job at home deals with customer service."
"We'll start you Monday here then, if that works." Pausing, he takes the paper and gets back up to drop it into the file appropriate for it. He could ask more questions, be more thorough, but the truth is that anyone who can put on a decent face and has had experience before in customer service is as generally safe a bet as any in a City where a curse can change even the sweetest most docile person into a killer. There is no ordinary bar for a critical eye or mind in this place and adjustments must be made or no one would ever be hired because no one would ever be trusted, himself included.
Pausing when he turns back to her, he does consider one additional query to the one he is about to ask, but he ends up keeping that to himself for now.
"Did you have any questions? Sorry, I usually get to that sooner."
"Nothing I can think of - oh," she says, as something occurs to her. "How do things work with curses? Say if you think you're someone else or something like that."
It hasn't happened to her yet, save for the weekend where everyone thought they were in the bohemian era, but she figures it's better to know than not know.
His brow raises and he nods once as if he approves of such a question, mostly because he does; it's sensible and if there's anything he appreciates, it's practicality. Also punctuality, but that may be a given.
"We try to accommodate cursed employees, either by waiving them out if they just need to not come in or by making sure while under the influence of said curses--if they come in at all--they don't...do anything that can't be undone later." A pause, he shrugs. "Basically you're not penalized but if you need help, we try to offer it. We like to think of the staff as friends, not just...people who help the place run," he finishes, glancing at her levelly. It is not by any means a rude look, just straightforward, plain in its own way, as if to say, these are the facts insofar as we've given them to the others. As much as he can tell, it's the best any establishment can do where curses get involved.
She nods, meeting Peter's gaze head-on. Those rules seem fair enough to her, and his attitude towards his employees is certainly better than Normal's is. Or was.
"We don't really have one," he half laughs, shaking his head as he realizes how informal that must seem, but this bar is more laid back than most and even kids have a tendency to come in now and then for whatever reasons, whether it's Blue's friend Alice or whoever else. "Just that you're wearing clothing, nothing outlandish I guess," he pauses, brow furrowing as he comes up with any number of possible rejections as far as 'dress-code'. "When you're waiting tables you'll get an apron but that's more for your benefit---pockets and such to hold the note pad, pens, extra straws and so on," he continues talking as he rubs the back of his neck absently. "It's casual here," and maybe this is repetition but he truly feels it to be a good explanation for everything from the low-key dress restrictions to the general feeling of the Blue Light on the whole.
"Max?" he inquires, setting a clipboard down at the end of the bar. Whoever is on duty at present--Amory or Frankie--can deal with it; nobody's sitting there right now anyway. "Hi," a pause and a nod, "Sorry were you waiting long?" It is possible, since sometimes people get there early and he would feel a bit bad but not too bad as an appointment is an appointment. Still, good to know but it doesn't make a difference in his evaluation of her whatever her answer. The only thing that would, would be if she had been late, which she isn't at all. He smiles a little at her, not forced but not the usual kind of smile a person might expect either, barely there but honest with an undertone of welcome to it. Chalk it up to age maybe, experience, or just the bulk of time in general, but he seldom thinks of how he carries himself anymore; comfortable in his skin whether wearing his true age or not. The years themselves come through regardless.
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Her own age is much younger than most would probably expect - she's no older than twenty-one at the very most, but carries herself as someone at least a few years older than that. Nine years of a military upbringing and then nine years of having to raise herself required her to grow up quickly.
"Are we waiting for anyone else?" She knows that there's another person who runs the Blue Light - Blue - but isn't sure whether or not she has to meet with them both before she gets hired.
Reply
"Blue trusts me to handle things," though he feels it implies itself, that anything major he will of course run by the actual owner. "This way," he adds, continuing down the hall until he reaches his own office, opening the door for her and holding it.
Reply
"Thanks," she says, stepping through the door. Her hands automatically slip behind her back and she clasps them, a reflex left behind from her days at Manticore. When she realizes what she's doing, she frowns, shifting them so that her thumbs hook through her belt loops instead.
Reply
"So pleasantries aside I already know what positions you're looking into with us," he prefaces, walking around to his side of said desk, pausing with his hand on a corner, still standing. "The Blue Light is really more laid back, as you could tell I'm sure. We even get a fair number of kids here. So this is more to warn you about what it's not, in all honesty." Here he pauses, rubbing the back of his neck absently. "We do occasionally have less desirable crowds, but those tend to be on curse days, so if you're looking for somewhere with a more exciting night life...not really us." It isn't even that The Blue Light isn't exciting, but the difference between it and many of what could be other options for Max are undeniable.
Reply
"Oh, no, I wasn't - I'm not necessarily looking for an exciting job," she explains, unclasping her hands and leaning forward a bit. "Kind of the opposite, actually. I just thought that me having worked security was worth mentioning, since it's something I've done before."
Reply
"We'll start you out as discussed before, once a week on bar, the other shifts waiting tables unless you prefer less interaction--busing or kitchen help, for instance," he does not quite frown but pauses, finally taking seat across from her.
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"That's fine," she says with a nod as she finishes filling the sheet out. "Waiting, that is. My job at home deals with customer service."
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Pausing when he turns back to her, he does consider one additional query to the one he is about to ask, but he ends up keeping that to himself for now.
"Did you have any questions? Sorry, I usually get to that sooner."
Reply
It hasn't happened to her yet, save for the weekend where everyone thought they were in the bohemian era, but she figures it's better to know than not know.
Reply
"We try to accommodate cursed employees, either by waiving them out if they just need to not come in or by making sure while under the influence of said curses--if they come in at all--they don't...do anything that can't be undone later." A pause, he shrugs. "Basically you're not penalized but if you need help, we try to offer it. We like to think of the staff as friends, not just...people who help the place run," he finishes, glancing at her levelly. It is not by any means a rude look, just straightforward, plain in its own way, as if to say, these are the facts insofar as we've given them to the others. As much as he can tell, it's the best any establishment can do where curses get involved.
Reply
"What's the dress code?"
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