Little Pub, Big Problems

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Bee

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There comes a time in every woman's life when she just decides, "To hell with it." and opens up a bar, at least, this happened to Cerul. She wasn't one for being polite or even the least bit sweet to strangers, but she got by. It all happened one day when her mate suggested that she should start selling the brew she had in her basement. Cerul laughed at his joke but he continued looking at her seriously. She pondered the idea, until finally, today, she had opened her bar.

----

"Oi, you with the ugly mug, get those stools ovar there!" Cerul shouted with an enraged expression on her face. She wasn't expecting the venture to be easy, hell no. She knew it'd probably be one of the hardest things she had to conquer, but she could tell it'd be worth it. You see, Oldham didn't have many pubs, it had but two and one was nearly a half hour walk out of town. So, as long as Cerul could get the joint up and running, she knew she could be making some cash.

She stumbled over two woman washing some floor boards and she nearly kicked their ribs in but composed herself. "Everyone, get yur arses ovar here, I've got some news." She shouted excitedly. She had found out that they were nearly finished with getting the place in order, at least fifteen minutes more and they'd be set. O' course she needed a few more waitresses and some bartenders, but that would come with time. She smiled as the men finished with putting the chandelier, an old carved wooden one her father had given her, up onto the roof.

"S'time to open up!"
 
((I'm in))

Axel Crowe yawned around a half-dead cigarette, exhaling a weak puff of smoke. He moaned quietly at the war waged in his belly; his stomach walls were running into each other and driving themselves into his spine. Sweet gods he was starved! The dark haired man walked through the streets of Oldham. He was merely passing through -- travelling, really. He wanted a place to rest his head for more than three days at a time and make more than fifty coins a day using...undesirable....methods. As the thought crossed his mind, he reached up and pat the hat he wore on his head, making sure that his black coil of a braid was still completely concealed. It was chilly out and he couldn't afford to catch a head cold.

Axel sighed and spat the cigarette onto the ground, mashing the butt with the heel of his boot, hands occupied with the tasks of digging into their respective pant-pockets for a lighter and another cancer stick. He yawned through the task, looking all the world like a lazy man with little to no care in the world. Of course, the fact that his face hadn't been clean-shaven in about a week could attest to that theory on its own. Axel puffed a few rings of smoke before letting the small stick hang loosely from his lips.

Now where the hell could he get some food and good ale? Axel twirled the cigarette thoughtfully, absently thinking of the urge he had to stretch his hair. But of course, he couldn't do that. Not out in the eyes of this quaint little place, in any case. A man with obnoxiously long hair was one thing; a man with obnoxiously long and, pretty much, 'alive' hair was an entirely different story.

The dark haired man let the denizens of the town roll pass him for a few seconds, staring blankly ahead, when he decided to make a move. A gentleman dressed in quite a nice suit headed in his direction. Axel moved into the well-dressed man's path and spared a small smile. He hoped it was friendly and not looking like he was constipated. He knew his face hardly worked with him when under such duress. Oh, hunger, you foul beast!

"Excuse me," he said casually enough. "Can you point me to the nearest bar?"

The other man seemed to be annoyed enough that he was being blocked. And to be asked such a meaningless question seemed to make him a bit mad. "How about you look for the building with a sign that says 'Bar?'" With that, the suited man went about his intended business.

Bastard.

But that was some pretty good advice. It wasn't as if a man could think straight on an empty stomach.

A few minutes of reading against his will, Axel found a pub. It was open and seemed great enough. Maybe if he got lucky, he could snag an easy job here, too. He'd be free to smoke and drink as he wished. Food could be just within his reach if they served anything. If not then the restaurant a few buildings down would have to suffice. Inside the bar seemed homey enough...

Axel puffed and stomped out his cigarette before walking inside.


SUMMARY: Axel is a chain smoker who is in search of a home and a job to set him on his way until he feels he should move on to some other town. He stumbles [deliberately] into a bar in Oldham and decides to test the fates.
 
Rush, rush, rush. That's all that Joan could think about as she was hunched over scrubbing the floorboards. She was relatively new to the bar industry, this being her second time working in a bar, so she was feeling extremely nervous. To make matters even worse, this bar was just opening. She didn't want to ruin things for the bar's reputation, more importantly her own. After all, it would be nice to be hired again by someone in the event that she quit or got fired.

When she looked up, the owner of the bar tripped over her and her co-worker. "Oh my god." Joan bit her lip and looked over at her boss, praying that she wouldn't yell at her. Cerul seemed like a very scary, hot-headed woman, so Joan wanted to stay on her good side. Fortunately, Cerul seemed to occupied to take out her anger on Joan and her co-worker.

Joan jumped up from her place when Cerul called a meeting. Cerul announced the opening of the bar. The bar was opening? Now? It seemed too soon. Time went by too fast. She glanced down at the floor and back at Cerul. The floor still didn't seem clean enough for Joan's standards, but there wasn't enough time to make things perfect. With great speed, Joan grabbed the cleaning supplies and walked towards the closet to put them away.
 
((Hey guys, thanks for taking interest!~))

Cerul was happy with the amount of power she held over the few volunteers that had offered to help her build the place. She promised a few a job of course, others were just more than happy to help with the opening of a new place to drink. She smiled as people left to spread the word, while some stayed back putting on aprons and waiting for her next command. A few of the girls she had hired were referred to her by the other barkeeps, while some she had found on a street, homeless and unkempt. Though Cerul seemed like a hot-tempered woman, she had a fairly kind heart deep down inside.

"Hey, Joanie, you okay ta tend to the customers while I go out fer a smoke?" She asked this flippantly knowing that Joan wouldn't mind. She was one of the hardest workers that she had found. Cerul somehow managed to trust her within the few months she had known the woman. Cerul went to the back of the pub and hefted on her cloak. She stepped out the back door and took in the brisk breeze that sifted through her auburn curls.

"Ah, whatta nice day ta be opening a pub."
 
Inside, the bar was alive with activity. Axel whistled at the fine design and the fresh scent of polish. The place was nearly spotless, if he said so himself. The cleaners should be paid well to do such a fine job; wood was not an easy surface to clean. He would have spent more time admiring the interior, but he had other things to worry about.

He scratched his beard, frowning a bit at its fuzziness. He wanted his boyish good looks back. But that required money he didn't have to spare to get a room. He had just enough for one, however, he couldn't exactly eat the inn's bedding and pillows. So, food first, shelter way later. The dark haired man slid onto a bar stool and yawned loudly, tapering off into a sigh as his stomach protested quite loudly to the intake of air; it was filled to the brim enough with it as it was.

"Hello?" Axel called out.
 
Just as Joan reached her station, Cerul approached her without warning. Oh god, something terrible didn't happen did it? Broken plates? Big spills? Clogged toilets? The possibilities popped in and out of Joan's head as she spun around and looked at Cerul. Apparently she wanted Joan to take care of the customers, which was almost just as worse. Joan didn't have enough time to object or say yes, so she was stuck with the job.

"Hello?"

Joan's attention was directed to a man at the bar. And so the chaos commenced. She strode over to the back of the counter and smiled at the man sitting in front of her. "Hi. What would you like to drink?" She took out a towel and began to wipe the counter down.
 
Cerul casually leaned against the building, taking long drags of her cigarette, she didn't know how well the pub idea was going to work out, but she was hopeful. She had hoped the craving she had would be satisfied by the smoke but alas, she still had that need in the pit of her stomach. She cringed at the idea of what was to come next. Shaking her head she threw the cig on the ground and stamped on it with a hard force. Grinding her teeth she pushed off the wall and went back inside, shivering as she went.

She threw her velvet cloak onto the floor of her office and sighed. Here comes the stress she thought. Whatever shenanigans that always happened on opening nights were soon to commence and Cerul hated the idea of having to closed down her pub just because she had to give a beating to some rotten shit disturbers. She put on an apron of her own before she stepped out of her office and towards the front of the pub.

"Oi, Joanie, we got any customers yet?" She hollered out as she carelessly breezed into the front room, walking behind the bar.
 
Axel took a moment to take her in. She was a shy woman. He knew off the bat that she was. Being in the business he was in for so long, helped him to make people out by a cursory glance. It really wouldn't do well to frighten her, now would it? But really, now. It would be nice if she could ask of his well-being. He idly wondered if everyone only regarded 'hello' as an all-inclusive word. He liked conversation. It was his specialty.

Axel graced her with his best smile. Well, the best he could summon on an empty stomach. "I'd take just about anything you have to offer," he said honestly. "Do you happen to serve anything edible here?" He knew it was far-fetched to sell food at a bar. It wasn't a tavern, after all. But he could hope.
 
Something struck Joan once she put her rag in the pocket of her apron. She completely forgot to ask him how he was doing AND introduce herself, just like any normal employee would have. When Cerul put all of this responsibility on her shoulder, Joan completely freaked out and so she was running on adrenaline. Joan felt her face heat up and her cheeks darken a little as she dwelled on the thought.

"We actually do sell food here." Joan turned around a fetched a menu and then handed it to the man. "My name is Joan. When you're ready, call me over and I'll take your order."

Suddenly Cerul walked over to the bar and joined Joan on the other side. It was if Lady Luck was smiling upon her. "A lot of customers have been flocking into the bar, and so far everything has been fine," she reported.
 
Axel raised an eyebrow at the other woman that came up behind the bar as he took the menu from Joan's hands. So this lady here was the owner. Mean-looking lady, but it was to be expected. Bars weren't exactly the friendliest of places. Especially at this time of night. The way Joan was speaking to the owner...she must be new, then. Well that put both of them in the same boat. The dark haired man tore his gaze from the two and perused the menu. There was some good sounding things there. He wished he could have one of each, but he was low on cash and so things weren't going to go as he had planned.

He sighed. He felt like a woman shopping for shoes. He didn't know what to choose. There were so many things just within the amount he still had left in his wallet. As if to tell him to hurry the hell up, his stomach felt as if it were trying to gnaw a hole through his belly.

"Alright, alright," Axel muttered. He looked back up to where Joan had meandered to and called out his order. "I'll take the beef stew!"
 
"Well if you excuse me I have a guest to attend to," Joan said politely to Cerul. She turned in place and looked at the man sitting at the bar. She felt like she was scrambling from one place to the next. Hopefully every night wouldn't be like this, but she had a feeling that wasn't likely. There was always someone asking for something, or something that required cleaning, but Joan preferred this fast paced job to sitting at a desk and answering telephone calls all day.

"I'll put your order in right now," Joan said as she scribbled down on her notepad. She walked to the counter separating the kitchen and the bar, ripped the little piece of paper she wrote on, and gave it to the chef. "One beef stew." With that she returned to her station. She filled a glass with water and ice and then placed it in front of the man whose order to just took.
 
Cerul looked up from Joan to notice someone new was seated in front of her. She hadn't seen this man before, which meant he was an out-of-towner. Sometimes this worried her. The last time she had got caught up with someone from out of town they ended up in a fist fight about laws. Foolish, right? She shook her head and then put out her hand. The man was sturdy and hard looking, almost as if he's seen more in his day than his age could catch up with. She let out a small smile for the sake of seeming welcoming. "Well aren't you a new face, what may yur name be sir?"

There was just something she couldn't place about the guy.
 
Axel nodded and was about to go back to browsing the menu to pass the time. He was all but shocked to see a dainty hand thrust under his nose. Looking up, the owner offered him a small smile. He blinked, and took the hand in his own. They weren't soft, like he had half expected. They were calloused from hard work and strength required labor. This woman was a fighter. Well, in order to run a bar that was always susceptible to violence and needed a good amount of muscle to control, she had to be fortified somehow.

"Well aren't you a new face. What may your name be sir?"

Axel mentally grimaced. He hated being called 'sir.' It made him feel old. But he went along with it. He wanted niceties, and that's what he got. He couldn't complain. "Name's Axel," he answered. "And to whom do I owe the pleasure of meeting?"

Axel snorted at himself mentally. Here he went speaking like he was old and yet not wanting the title of 'sir.' He really needed to work on his expectations.
 
((Sorry guys~! I was a tad busy))

Cerul looked over towards Joan and noticed she was taking good place of the pub in her place. She smiled at that for a moment and noted that Axel had responded. She coughed and then reared her attention back to the man, she nearly laughed at his response and then smirked a little before replying with, "Cerul I am. Got a fine name on yeh. What bring yeh to town?" She eagerly questioned the hardened man as she began helping with his meal that Joan had been slaving herself over. A few more stragglers from outside had come in and Cerul was pleased to see this.

"Hold yer thought while I greet the other guests." She rushed over to the door, joking with people she had already known and sending Joan an appreciative smile.
 
Arynn ducked into the pub, and didn't straighten all the way once she was inside. Even standing up straight she was not the tallest, even among women, and the young woman stood with a stoop, clutching a young leather satchel to her side. Quietly, she walked into the room and looked around for an empty space to sit down. Her long grey-blue robes fluttered even though the length of them were tucked into the leather belt around her waist, a dead giveaway to her membership at the magical academy just a half-hour's ride from this burg, as if the gigantic tomes bulging from her satchel weren't enough.
Nervously, the frail youth sat down at the emptiest end of the bar and knitted her fingers together, wondering if she would be mocked for ordering only water.
 
"There comes a time in the life of every vibrant, red blooded man," Daniel Cavendish d'Arcy McGee's father would say to him, "That one needs to get utterly, deplorably, rump-busting, rip-roaringly smashed." A pronouncement that Daniel had deliberated to take very well to heart on that dratted, blasted day. Despite verging on the uneasy age of forty-two, Daniel's spirit was vastly more resolute than his declining body. On taking the first steps out of the ugly big slab of brick where he worked, Daniel resolved to enter the nearest establishment that implied even the slightest containment of liquor. With chest puffed out and with an air of unbreakable resolution towards his cause, he threw open the door with all the effort he could muster and listened, with cathartic satisfaction, the door tap softly onto the wall. That feat of strength far from enough for this vicious conqueror, Daniel fixed his eyes onto the long drab bar. He marched towards it with much the same pace as he had professed before, but now it was thrice determined, being so near his destined goal. He plopped himself down assuredly onto one of the multitude of stools lining the bar and rapped on it in a firm, yet polite fashion. In the most measured tones he could muster at the peak of his emotional rapture, Daniel called:

"I would like one alcoholic beverage, please!"
 
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Axel watched as people filed in. A hunched little lady had come in and sat at a, what he deemed, 'safe' distance from the rest of the crowd. He knew that kind of feeling, but he wouldn't try to drag her out of it. One got used to it eventually and became like him. All laughs, smiles and good conversation. Axel turned his attention to the other side of the room when something nearly made him choke on his own breath.

"I would like one alcoholic beverage, please"

Axel snickered breathlessly. He had only heard this kind of speech in old stories when the elders of some towns told gregarious tales and such. But to hear someone actively use it...he must be a comedian or something. But more to the point, when one asked for a drink at a pub, it was always alcoholic unless otherwise specified. Goodness, the kind of people he came across. But he could give the man an out. He was older than Axel, he could tell that much. Up to about seven years he could tell, but the man may be much older.

Interesting.
 
Cerul excused herself from Axel presence and went over to the man who had sat at the bar, she first called out to the lady knowing that it'd be easier to take the man's order first. "Lady, o'er there with the robes, I'll be witcha in a minute, just gotta take this gents order!" She smiled towards the woman hoping that she didn't seem to obnoxious and then set her gaze on the man. He looked as though he would normally catch some stares, not because of his appearance but with the way he held himself, he exuded confidence just in the way he sat there looking at her. She sighed and took out her notepad and a pen then looked back towards the man.

"What'll it be?" Cerul asked in a welcoming tone. She wasn't normally all this happy but there was just something about owning her own establishment that turned her wicked frown into a pinched smile.
 
For a short, stark moment Daniel just sat there, his mouth hanging open in bewilderment. It dawned on him serendipitously that he had not exactly formulated a plan for which to embark on this enterprise beforehand. He had simply presumed, on glancing observances of his coworkers, that alcohol would proved a simple enough compound to procure without needing abstract categorizations. With a shiver he recalled the chanted monotones of his colleagues, speaking of "beer", "brandy", "whiskey", and "Granddaughter's Surprise". Daniel had no idea as to the articles imbued within these products or of their potency, and this along with the seemingly aggressive colloquial accent of the bartender only served to heightened Daniel's anxiety. A bead of sweat, despite himself, rolled rudely down his forehead. His mind raced back and forth, beckoning back to countless bar scenes in all forms of media knowledgeable to him, seeking some sort of ledge from which to clutch onto in this seemingly bottomless abyss. His eyes flitted toward the cloaked woman at the corner of the bar. That was it! Just as the wondrous and ever-varied stick insect imitated its' inhospitable surroundings to survive, so will Daniel resolve to imitate the regulars of this strange landscape in order to reach his goal. She did seem like a drab and mysterious character, no doubt the picture of the average patron, Daniel assumed. As such, the potency of the liquor which she ingests will be undoubtedly hold a very significant potency. Remembering an old line he had read in a book, Daniel said in the most droll and suave voice he could muster:

"I'll have what she's having." indicated Daniel toward the direction of Arynn.
 
Axel couldn't take it and hr broke right then and there. He could clearly see that the man was uncomfortable. He knew it wasn't right and that he should help the other man out. And he would, eventually. Just as soon as he stopped his kidneys from failing. Sweet Lord. Where was this man from?​
 
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