[closed] she only ever walks to count her steps

[ebeje]

Who: Max (ebeje), Anora (solitaryrose), Prior Walter (priorly), more to come
What: A catch-all post as I roll back from hiatus. PM me if you'd like something!
When: Late October / early November
Where: Various locations
Warning(s): None so far, will edit if needed.

Comments

[ebeje]

Like I am now, [ she corrects, gently teasing. Not like she has always been. ] I can imagine it. You have an eye for people, I think -- what they want, what will divert them.

[ She certainly finds him diverting, at least, and in her opinion it is an underappreciated skill. A useful one, too, for certain purposes. ]

Before all this, I owned a tavern, [ she begins, pausing a beat to consider how much to share. ] And an inn, a butcher, a tanner, a tailor -- controlling interest in nearly every business and trade operation in Nassau.

[ A calculated glance up. She isn't sure how well he knows his history -- or how history has recorded Nassau at all, but either he knows what sort of place Nassau is or he doesn't, and she's not one to share more than suits her in any particular moment. ]

The year before that, I had as little as we do now. [ She shrugs. Fortunes change. ] But places like this, they are full of opportunity.

[priorly]

[That was exactly it. He acquired things: wedding doves in the requested shade of pink, party guests in the aspired to social category, entertainments and diversions, through a web of contacts made simply by having turned in the right circles for long enough. Work as an extension of his social life, the only way to do it, really.

Here he's not quite settled on what to do. What he would be capable of. But there's no trust fund pillow to lean on, so the thought does grow more pressing.

Though it's put away for the far more interesting purpose of discovering a little more about Max's history.]

Remind me never to play you at monopoly, sounds like you swept the board. Very impressive. Well. You ran a retail empire, Byerly just sounds like he's named after one.

[Perhaps he should make his fortune taking bets on which of them ends up with a controlling interest in this place. Very different strategies, he imagines, but quite a game.

Distracted by some scuffle breaking out in a corner, he glances away, but it's over almost as it begins.]

I must admit I struggle to see those kind of opportunities. Not much of a head for business. But I've... I've heard of Nassau, haven't I? Yes. More than one of my ancestors captained ships. There was a Prior Walter in the British Naval fleet, for a time.

[ebeje]

Not in Nassau, I hope. [ British Naval Officers haven't done well there, historically.

A n y w a y.

Max's eyes slide away from the fight, to follow a young woman's hand as she takes advantage of said distraction to deftly pocket an already-stolen hatpin from a table. A fond smile tugs at the corners of Max's lips, and she tugs Prior toward the table of previously owned hats to cement the redirection. ]

This sort of business, it is not so different from being a hostess, I think. People here have needs, like anywhere else — only these needs, the world has told them they cannot fill. Society has said to them, they may not live comfortably — their skills are not acceptable, their ambitions too large for their humble beginnings — and they have resolutely disagreed. They need things to sell, people to sell to, and safe places to conduct their business and their lives where the rest of the world cannot touch them.

[ She plucks one — a tricorne — from the table and holds it level with Prior. Hmmmm. ]

Or, sometimes they simply need the right hat. Not everything is complicated.