The Brazen Turtle Rides Again

[jirk]

Characters: Jim Kirk, Prussia and open!
Date: Feb 4th/5th
Location: The Brazen Turtle
Situation: Bar fight/general mingle log, with threadstarters for fun and shenanigans!
Warnings/Rating: Violence, maybe some swearing. Shouldn't get too intensive! See the post for threadstarts.

Comments

ota

[jondrette]

[Look who has a steady job! Why, it's Eponine, working behind the bar. She always assumed she'd wind up in such a position, as a child when she lived in Montfermeil and her family still owned the inn. But here she was, pouring drinks and flirting with the best of 'em.]

[superieure]

[Monet's here, just to have a look around. Ric's the one who spends his time in bars, but it can't hurt to be familiar with this establishment, especially since Jim owns it. She approaches the counter, dressed to kill as always, and leans over.]

What's the special for today?

[jondrette]

[Wow, Monet looks wonderful, even Eponine can admire that, and for a moment, a pang of jealousy at how beautiful this woman is hits her. But she swallows it.]

First drink for everyone is on the house, mam'oiselle. That I am told is the special.

[superieure]

[Jealousy isn't something she's new to - the fact that people here aren't used to her being a telepath is... working to her advantage. It still doesn't stop how much she'd like to block this out now and then. One never knew what one could get if one listened, so Monet usually paid attention.]

[Upon hearing Eponine speak in French, however, she switches over immediately.]

I'm aware of that - is anything else on discount? Ladies night, or..?

[jondrette]

We have rail drinks, and some cheaper wines and beers. Here. [She hands the woman a menu.

Eponine was not the sort of woman to give discounts when she could. In fact, she did quite the opposite, raking up the prices whenever she could, however she could. That much had been ingrained in her since she was a child, learning at her parents' knees how to cheat her customers out of everything they had. But here, the prices were set, and they were m'sieur Jim's prices. She could do nothing about that.]

If I could give you a discount, I would, [she lied] it has been far too long since I've spoken French to a woman. [Mostly just the men she had died with. Them, Marius, and Midii. But Midii was far too young to be in the bar. Ever.]

[superieure]

[Cheap wine? Cheap wine? That, madam, is an affront to her sensibilities. She takes the menu and regards it with some scepticism. She hasn't heard of half the things on it, but Jim's not one to pull weird stunts, and with Monet, wouldn't be willing to try.]

[She quirks an eyebrow upwards at the blatant lie, but doesn't call it out.]

There's not many of us here. A shame, we'd have fixed this readily.

[jondrette]

[This is what happens when you ask a Thénardier for a discount. Other options included buying an expensive wine and actually getting the discount wine for the price. Or severely watered-down wine. But that would get her fired, and Eponine does not wish to lose her job.]

Then you have not met my friends, mademoiselle! True, they are men, but they came here with me.

[superieure]

[She looks at Eponine with just enough interest; raises her eyebrows and smiles cordially.]

Then you must introduce me, of course.

[jondrette]

I shall. Though, perhaps you have met them already. The monsieurs Enjolras, Joly, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Pontmercy and Bossuet. Formerly monsieur Jehan Prouvaire and [she swallows for a moment.] Gavroche.

Inspector Javert came with us as well, but he is no friend of ours.

[skybluejeep]

[Stiles is hauling in a big tray full of clean glasses for behind the bar. This is the hardest part of his job, because let's face it: boy's a spazz. So he's super careful with the handling of the glasses. And he grins up at Eponine as he works. And then pauses.]

...Hey. Have we met? I'm Stiles.

[jondrette]

[Eponine turns to him and frowns slightly.] I am Eponine. It is lovely to meet you, M'sieur Stiles. Stiles! Now that is an odd name. No, we have not met before, for I would remember that name. I have only just started working here.

[skybluejeep]

You think Stiles is odd, you should hear my full name.

[He gives her another little grin, and stacks another few glasses.]

Well, welcome to the team! Even if the team is now suddenly coached by a new guy. You doing okay so far?

[jondrette]

Well, then, what is it? I should like to hear it.

[She smirks at him kindly.] I thank you. I am quite alright. I grew up in an inn. This is not much different.

[skybluejeep]

[He smirks, and leans in closer to her. Murmurs his real name. It's very Polish. There are a lot of consonants and Zs. It's practically unpronounceable.]

See what I mean?

Grew up in an inn, huh? Sounds interesting. Family business or...?

[jondrette]

[Eponine nods.]

I do. Then you shall be Stiles.

Family business, yes. We lost it when I was eight and had to move to Paris. But for most of my childhood, I would help. [She would also pick pockets of patrons and abuse the foster daughter.]

[skybluejeep]

Eight? Jeez, child labor laws apparently aren't a thing where you're from, huh?

[He finishes stacking up the glasses, and leans back against the bar for a second, catching his breath.]

Eponine...wait. Hang on, did you know Gavroche? He mentioned you once.

[jondrette]

Child labor laws? No. I have never heard of such a thing.

[She glances over at Stiles and then he says the magic word. Gavroche.]

Know him! Stiles, he is my brother! Tell me, what did he say of me?

[bonjourguignon]

[What a surprise! Though the image befit her, that Eponine was so much the sort of bawdy, rough-and-tumble woman whom Bossuet would often get well-acquainted in bars like these.]

Ah, a fine barmaiden you make, Eponine! You look as though a fish swimming acrobatics in its home waters, and your scales shine as brilliantly.

[jondrette]

Thank you, Bossuet! My parents owned an inn at Montfermeil- The Seargent at Waterloo- so the atmosphere befits me. Come! The first drink is on the house! What shall I pour for you?

[bonjourguignon]

To familiar waters we will always swim!

Have you something strong -- exotic when compared to what we have back at home, yet brings back the same flavours of the dankest Parisian pubs to the senses? I am feeling nostalgic tonight, seeing you behind the bar there, but would like to celebrate the now, that we are more than who we were in the past, as we are more than who we were yesterday.

[jondrette]

You speak so prettily. Here. [She passes on the wine tonight, instead, turning to the bar and grabbing a large glass and two shot glasses. With little difficulty, she pours two, setting only one in front of her friend.]

Cognac.

[bonjourguignon]

A heavenly drink, aged to such perfection that even angels must take their share!

That the angel before me will do me the honour of sharing with me? [Lifting the shot glass in a salute.]

[jondrette]

I am not an angel. [But she lifts the glass herself. She's not supposed to drink on the job, but whoops. She was never one for obeying rules.] But I shall do you the honor.

[bonjourguignon]

[With a bit of a wink.]

Ah, but angels come in many shapes and sizes on our mortal plane, and a maiden with the bottle as her charge is a common guise!

[Rules, schmules. He's glad you agree.]

Santé, my dear! [And taking that shot.]

[jondrette]

In the guise of a devil, you mean.

[But she knocks the shot back like she's been doing it for years- and she has, though very rarely anything this fine. She slams the shot down on the table and grins.]

Montparnasse never had anything so delicious.