Hospitality
Sep. 18th, 2024 10:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ordainedbarkeep posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
vivala-1: During the Imperial attacks on Flotsam or the Mines-
Certainly, it was very important that the Corsairs fight to protect their own forces, but not all Corsairs are fighters.
On a quiet Wednesday night, off the main strip of Elysium where all the casinos and brothels and such were that all the rich tourists frequented, there was a little bar. It didn't really have anything about it that made it stand out, but something about the Laughing Toadstool (The name of the bar, according to the sign over the door.) that made it feel more welcoming the more tired you were. It was a place that called out to weary travelers of all sorts. It was a warm and welcoming looking building.
Imperial nobles, looking for depraved excess and debauchery, usually ignored it entirely, but the Laughing Toadstool always did steady business with the locals. Partially because anyone who wasn't a noble in the Empire was probably pretty tired, but there was more to it than that.
In more revolutionary circles, it was understood that the Laughing Toadstool was a place of sanctuary. A place where you could go to find a friendly ear, or even (if you needed it) a place to hide for a day or two.
Whatever your reasoning for being here, the owner of the place always greeted newcomers from behind the bar with a smile.
"Welcome, welcome! Please take a seat! Can I get you something to drink?"
-2: After the attacks are fended off-
After major Corsair operations, the Laughing Toadstool usually hosted some kind of event. A wine tasting, or live music, or dancers...something along those lines. The Corsairs usually needed to either celebrate their great victories, or to mourn their tragic losses, and here was a good place to do it.
As rumor had it it had been a fighting retreat on all sides, Iren figured they wouldn't really be in the mood to party too hard. She had hired some musicians, but the mood for the night was sentimental and full of longing. A lot of love songs about the "one that got away".
Eventually, someone came in that she recognized and her normal veneer of cheerful professionalism cracked. She pulled them aside with a look of concern.
"I haven't heard any news yet. What happened at Flotsam? Do we know, yet?"
Certainly, it was very important that the Corsairs fight to protect their own forces, but not all Corsairs are fighters.
On a quiet Wednesday night, off the main strip of Elysium where all the casinos and brothels and such were that all the rich tourists frequented, there was a little bar. It didn't really have anything about it that made it stand out, but something about the Laughing Toadstool (The name of the bar, according to the sign over the door.) that made it feel more welcoming the more tired you were. It was a place that called out to weary travelers of all sorts. It was a warm and welcoming looking building.
Imperial nobles, looking for depraved excess and debauchery, usually ignored it entirely, but the Laughing Toadstool always did steady business with the locals. Partially because anyone who wasn't a noble in the Empire was probably pretty tired, but there was more to it than that.
In more revolutionary circles, it was understood that the Laughing Toadstool was a place of sanctuary. A place where you could go to find a friendly ear, or even (if you needed it) a place to hide for a day or two.
Whatever your reasoning for being here, the owner of the place always greeted newcomers from behind the bar with a smile.
"Welcome, welcome! Please take a seat! Can I get you something to drink?"
-2: After the attacks are fended off-
After major Corsair operations, the Laughing Toadstool usually hosted some kind of event. A wine tasting, or live music, or dancers...something along those lines. The Corsairs usually needed to either celebrate their great victories, or to mourn their tragic losses, and here was a good place to do it.
As rumor had it it had been a fighting retreat on all sides, Iren figured they wouldn't really be in the mood to party too hard. She had hired some musicians, but the mood for the night was sentimental and full of longing. A lot of love songs about the "one that got away".
Eventually, someone came in that she recognized and her normal veneer of cheerful professionalism cracked. She pulled them aside with a look of concern.
"I haven't heard any news yet. What happened at Flotsam? Do we know, yet?"
no subject
Date: 2024-10-06 12:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-10-06 01:07 am (UTC)"...Well, far be it from me to enforce a dress code." shoulder pat. "But just know that as long as you're in here you are with friends."
no subject
Date: 2024-10-06 01:38 am (UTC)Perhaps it was because she's looking at Iren and saw it coming, or maybe because she relaxed slightly at not being made to remove her helm, Nephenee didn't start or react badly to the shoulder pat. That and Iren's kind words seemed to help, at least a little, because she got a small, grateful smile from the "warlike apparition". It was a bit pained and tired, but it was there.
"T-Thank ya, ma'am...Um...Ah...think Ah heard some folks in the group say your name is Iren? Is that right?"
no subject
Date: 2024-10-07 02:34 am (UTC)"Iren Suto, yes. The owner of this establishment."
She fetched a cup from the bar and poured herself some mead from the pitcher. "It sounds like you have the advantage on me, however."