Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Vora Zorell (Scientist) in Holodeck 2 - A Shift At The Wattle & Daub (tag: Vora, Open)

Posted by Ensign Dr. P’Mala Dawes (Doctor) in Holodeck 2 - A Shift At The Wattle & Daub (tag: Vora, Open)

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Vora Zorell (Scientist) in Holodeck 2 - A Shift At The Wattle & Daub (tag: Vora, Open)
Posted by… suppressed (7) by the Post Ghost! 👻

(snip)

“Yes, Mr. Henson, He’s–” P’Mala began, when suddenly the old gray haired man came up his office behind the counter.

Hanson was about 75, a wiry sort of old man in a worn suit with a wispy white beard and little white muttonchops that wound out of his ears and around his cheeks like aged hams.

“Aye, I am the sole proprietor of the Wattle and Daub, my lady, established in this very spot in 1750! Did you know that it was in this very room that the Prince Frederick ate beef stew? It’s said that we still use the same recipe to this very day and I–“

“I believe Miss Zalenas is here about the advertisement,” P’Mala interrupted. “Sir.”

She made a subtle face at Vera while Henson dug in his pockets for God knows what reason.

-Ensign P’Mala Dawes

“Indeed,” Vera said. “I saw that you were in need of a performer and I happen to be between positions right now and could use some work. I play the piano and I can sing. I can perform a variety of styles.” All of this was true but she was hoping they wouldn’t be insistent on asking a lot of personal questions. Then again, she was a lady and there was propriety to consider.

~Vora Zorell

P’Mala watched the two as the conversation continued–this confident crewman and the inscrutable Henson. She filled a couple beers and made herself of use in the background while the two parlayed.

The old man took a pair of spectacles out of his pocket and peered at Vora/Vera disarmingly. “The Wattle & Daub is a special establishment. No harm will come to you here,” he said, “And we have had lady performers in the past–all above the board, I assure you–but most of them did have a chaperone. Does that not bother you?”

-Ensign P’Mala Dawes

She flashed him a wide smile. “I assure you Mr. Henson that I am a very capable woman, not a wilting flower. I am certain I can manage on my own in your fine establishment. But it does reassure me to know other ladies have performed here before. I won’t be en entire surprise,” she said, her maroon eyes lighting up.

“Now, what expectations do you have of your performers?”

~Vora Zorell

Maybe it was the light bouncing off of his glasses or it was a glint in the old man’s eyes, but Henson seemed encouraged by Vora’s response.

“Very well. We can always have one of our regular boys sit by the stage if we have to,” Henson said, waving his hand dismissively like the suggestion was just a puff of foul smoke.

“As for our performances, we usually have have bookings on Friday and Saturday nights. Thursdays when a liner is scheduled to be in port. 8:30 and 10 o’clock. We have had polka bands from the Black Forest, a chantusse from Parriee, and an American record crooner in the past year, plus the occasional political speaker and writer. Our main patrons are the seamen and travelerswho are looking for some entertainment and respite before going on to who knows where!”

P’Mala coughed into her apron. She did not recall the chantusse from Parriee in her time in the holonovel at any rate.

“What do you do, Miss? What are your credentials?” Mr. Henson asked. “Do you have any newsclippings or letters of report?”

-Ensign P’Mala Dawes

Vera pulled her shoulders back and reached into her carpet bag, pulling out a large envelope with various papers inside. “I play piano and sing, a variety of styles. I trained at the Royal Academy of Music and am a member of the Royal Society of Female Musicians. I’ve played in many premier venues in London.” She pulled out a newspaper article from the London Evening Standard that was a rave review of a music revue at the Alhambra Theatre over a year ago that noted the rising celebutante Vera Zalenas whose performance captivated the audience.”

“That is but a sample, but hopefully you will see that I can bring both levity and a touch of sophistication to any venue,” Zelanas said without a hint of arrogance.

~Vora Zorell

P’Mala swung by the pair on a break from refilling glasses, wiping tables, and collecting coin. Sure enough, like the lady said, the material were there.

Hmm P’Mala thought admiringly, So I’m not the only one spending time in this holonovel after all.

Henson peered at the article through his spectacles.

“My woman–my god–you are Vera Zalenas?” He stood up and took off his jacket. “My goodness! Yes, we would have you for a show or a series, quite certainly! What are your requirements, madame?”

-Ensign P’Mala Dawes

Oh, good! He only knew her reputation as a great performer. That certainly made things easier. Vera flashed him a beaming smile. “Oh, I daresay just a piano and a captive audience will be more than enough. But that does bring us to the negotiations of a suitable wage.” It was rarely appropriate to discuss money in public and as a lady even less so, but Vera had to survive too and would not be denied a decent wage. “Now I fully understand that what I have been accustomed to being paid was in London and from much larger establishments, but I do believe I will be bringing you in a great deal of business should you advertise my performances Mr. Henson. As such, I think one pound and ten shillings a night would be a suitable amount.” She was going high knowing full well he’d want to negotiate down. It was high too. Four days wages for a skilled tradesperson and she was a woman.

~Vora Zorell

Henson rubbed his temples with his fingers.

“Of course, one is accustomed to that kind of fee when one is filling the Alhambra, but we’re a wayfarer’s pub, dear lady,” he said, taking off his spectacles and polishing one lense after the other against his sleeve.

Her smile hadn’t faded. Of course she knew this even if she also knew after one performance from her he’s be changing his tune.

“One pound a show, plus meals, laundry, and room to board. For the duration and a day,” he countered.

P’Mala knew the room he was speaking of–it was on the top floor of the building near hers, and not a guest room, per se, but it was clean and private–maybe worth a dozen shillings a night. She guessed she was to be the laundress Henson had in mind, too.

-Ensign P’Mala Dawes

Well this posed a problem but maybe not entirely. Vera didn’t want to turn down his offer but she would not be able to explain the truth of her situation. “One pound and room and board as you have outlined but only for the first two weeks. After that I will have secured my own accommodations and my wage goes up to one pound and four shillings.”

~Vora Zorell

P’Mala swung by the negotiations.

“You’d be silly not to take it,” she said, nudging Henson in a rare moment of directness. Over the last few months she’d spent in her character working at the Daub, while they weren’t close, she knew Henson respected her work ethic and, hopefully, her opinion at least somewhat.

She shrugged and resumed her duties.

The old man regarded Vora carefully, then sighed. “I can call upon my solicitor tomorrow to draw up an agreement, but if you’d like to start tonight, I can give you half a pound and your room upon your signature in the morning.”

He thought on it for a second. “But if that is too short a notice, we can start you in two days.”

P’Mala cheered to herself in the corner. Maybe she could take a moment to get to know this person before much more time passed.

-Ensign P’Mala Dawes