Every girl wanted to rock some diamonds or look flashy, but the only thing Vyn desired currently, was to be useful. To feel included.The creamy bronze babe didn't need comradery or even a 'friend' to get through her days with a smile- she could do that all on her own. But the vixen was missing purpose, so in the footsteps of many before her, the beaut found herself scanning through the holonet, looking for something hiring.
That's how she ended up here, standing just before the neon-lit signed nightclub that flashed attractively "The Ninth Gate".
As to how 'she' looked, prior mentioned, the five-four girl had a warm hue of mocha as her skin, and was a humanoid. More precisely, she was a Vahla. This meant despite her appearing as a basic human was, she was capable of flexibilities all of them simply couldn't bend, regularly. She also had a tendency to stretch before every activity, so before crossing the city's spurt of absence in street, Vyn rolled those hips of hers, forcing that side-slit pin skirt to hug her curves more than it already did, strutted and bent those thinly panty hosed fine walkers punctuated in glossy onyx stilettos, and arched that back, her bust pushing against that black lace edged V-neck button-down. She was a walking cat, and the dewy morning air of dawned city contrasted as her exhale danced around her. Her makeup was meant to bring focus to beauty in feminine features, her lips contoured to perfect her cupids bow in a bright matte scarlet, daring hazel-greens made to stand out from their darker shaded canvas, while freshly manicured nails winked back at the sign as they flirted with those finger waves she set up night before. Adjusting the curl that hung teasingly in front of her left hazel green, the vixen knew she was what every bombshell modeled after.
The polluted city air whirled around her as if congradulating her for making it this far, when honestly it was just commuters going through their mornings. On the other hand, she knew that if she got this job, she would have everything she ws aiming for. A night life, credits, and a way to recycle them. Party girl, over here.
Knocking on the metallic entrance, the minx mentally reread her plans, and trimmed up her wording a bit. From the picture she had seen of the owner, the man looked to be more about action than words, and most men didn't like a chatty cathy. Neither did she, if being honest. So her plan, attract, minimal word hooks, and sink with promises.
The Vahla just hoped it worked. After all, this was the only place that had returned her apps with promise.
Forever Grindin' [Salem/Closed]
-
Vyn Reigns
- Registered Member
- Posts: 19
- Joined: Sun Apr 22, 2018 7:07 am
-
Salem Norongachi
- Staff
- Posts: 141
- Joined: Mon Sep 04, 2017 3:46 pm
Re: Forever Grindin' [Salem/Closed]
The nightclub was empty. Closed during the socially respectable hours that even the station kept, to allow the lesser folk time to eke out a living without the temptation of good music or so Norongachi was told, it was all just noise to him, booze that was marginally cheaper than the next joint over and more than a few very willing participants in whatever kink took your fancy writhing on the double-decker dance floors.
It should have been less empty. However, the place had gained a reputation for being blown up, shot up and incinerated on a bi-monthly basis. If the station was in Alliance or Imperial space, Salems liability would be astronomical but on the Rim? The fringes of 'civilization', as those who had never set foot out here claimed, it was just par for the course. Still living here meant learning to play the odds and the staff-to-morgue ratio was woefully unbalanced. Pirates, rogue Imperials, crazy Alliance operatives, even crazier Sith...hell, even Norongachi had blown the place up once or twice. The owner and proprietor of the establishment had picked a fight with them all, and the Ninth Gate had suffered the blow back. All that had compounded to make the price too steep for even the most die hard of potential employees.
"Son of kriffing spiced out hutt-whore!" came the roar from behind the bar. On his knees, waist deep in the guts of an ice-maker, was Salem Norongachi. Last man standing, unless you counted N'Kal as bar manager but no one ever did, of the Ninth Gates employee list. Around him lay parts, tubes, nuts and screws and the odd metal panel. He's been ripping the thing apart for over and hour, trying to figure out why every ten minutes exactly the bloody machine decided to fire off six ice cubes fast enough to crack a skull, which more than one customer could attest to from their hospital bed. Still nothing.
He heard the gears begin to whir, the deep chuga-chuga-chuga of the internal mechanisms fire up and ripped his head out of the dark innards of the beast. "Don't you dare!" but dare it did and not being sentient couldn't appreciate the danger looming in its near future. Six perfectly formed cubes of solid ice launched like missiles from the receptacle and sailed out into the darkness of the empty dance floors beyond the bar. There was the dull 'clink' as each landed and only the loud rap of metal drew his mind away from thoughts of bisecting the infernal monstrosity with the lightsaber that lay under his discarded dark suit jacket atop the bar.
A calming breath was all he allowed himself, not that it helped, as he ran a grease streaked hand through his disheveled black hair
-sweeping it away from his face- and looked to the security feed above the bar. It showed the front entrance, and a single individual waiting outside it. His brow knitted in frustration over eyes of emerald, and he grabbed a bar rag and began to wipe of the grunge and tar like streaks from his hands while he walked out of the bar, along its length and then to the large door directly ahead that lead into the payment kiosk and entrance corridor. To his right, as he marched by, was the secured door to the VIP area and staff offices but he hardly had time to stop in, grab a drink and seriously consider pulling an insurance job on the whole place, so he kept walking. The release switch for the door lay on the left, behind a security panel. He slapped his hand to it, the panel slid aside, and he practically haymakered the button and the door shot upwards removing the barrier between Norongachi and the woman.
"What?" he asked immediately.
It should have been less empty. However, the place had gained a reputation for being blown up, shot up and incinerated on a bi-monthly basis. If the station was in Alliance or Imperial space, Salems liability would be astronomical but on the Rim? The fringes of 'civilization', as those who had never set foot out here claimed, it was just par for the course. Still living here meant learning to play the odds and the staff-to-morgue ratio was woefully unbalanced. Pirates, rogue Imperials, crazy Alliance operatives, even crazier Sith...hell, even Norongachi had blown the place up once or twice. The owner and proprietor of the establishment had picked a fight with them all, and the Ninth Gate had suffered the blow back. All that had compounded to make the price too steep for even the most die hard of potential employees.
"Son of kriffing spiced out hutt-whore!" came the roar from behind the bar. On his knees, waist deep in the guts of an ice-maker, was Salem Norongachi. Last man standing, unless you counted N'Kal as bar manager but no one ever did, of the Ninth Gates employee list. Around him lay parts, tubes, nuts and screws and the odd metal panel. He's been ripping the thing apart for over and hour, trying to figure out why every ten minutes exactly the bloody machine decided to fire off six ice cubes fast enough to crack a skull, which more than one customer could attest to from their hospital bed. Still nothing.
He heard the gears begin to whir, the deep chuga-chuga-chuga of the internal mechanisms fire up and ripped his head out of the dark innards of the beast. "Don't you dare!" but dare it did and not being sentient couldn't appreciate the danger looming in its near future. Six perfectly formed cubes of solid ice launched like missiles from the receptacle and sailed out into the darkness of the empty dance floors beyond the bar. There was the dull 'clink' as each landed and only the loud rap of metal drew his mind away from thoughts of bisecting the infernal monstrosity with the lightsaber that lay under his discarded dark suit jacket atop the bar.
A calming breath was all he allowed himself, not that it helped, as he ran a grease streaked hand through his disheveled black hair
-sweeping it away from his face- and looked to the security feed above the bar. It showed the front entrance, and a single individual waiting outside it. His brow knitted in frustration over eyes of emerald, and he grabbed a bar rag and began to wipe of the grunge and tar like streaks from his hands while he walked out of the bar, along its length and then to the large door directly ahead that lead into the payment kiosk and entrance corridor. To his right, as he marched by, was the secured door to the VIP area and staff offices but he hardly had time to stop in, grab a drink and seriously consider pulling an insurance job on the whole place, so he kept walking. The release switch for the door lay on the left, behind a security panel. He slapped his hand to it, the panel slid aside, and he practically haymakered the button and the door shot upwards removing the barrier between Norongachi and the woman.
"What?" he asked immediately.
-
Vyn Reigns
- Registered Member
- Posts: 19
- Joined: Sun Apr 22, 2018 7:07 am
Re: Forever Grindin' [Salem/Closed]
The roars that came out from behind that door were muffled from the steel entrance barrier, but she could only imagine how loud it truly was. From space ration imagined within a club this high and wide, it was no doubt that voice belonged to her 'hopefully' employer. Taking a breath after that knock of hers, she waited, slender hands holding each other at her waist. Her confidence refused to leave her, and with that same perseverance she had come this far.
Then, it slid open, revealing a older man, about a decade exact older, than her. And what she gauged from the ruffled dark hair, oil slick over brow, and irritation, was that this was a moment he shouldn't have been bothered. But here she was. Inwardly groaning at whatever had peeved off the man and increased the difficulty of this mission, the beaut kept herself together. "Interview," she stated in that heavenly voice of hers. Not too loud, no purr, not too soft, no bark. Just a chic remix to a classy tune.
"General, or personal staff. No difference."
Vyn was a girl of many masks; she could be a million and one things, and she knew all of them like the back of her hand. Atleast when it came to bars, nightclubs, and theft. But she was atleast trying to make an honest living. Here. For now. And from her perspective, it looked like the man needed some machinery assistance. Hands all oily, face all greased up, there was no way in hell the owner should have been the one looking through whatever machinery he was- he was the damn owner. There's supposed to be a guy (or girl, whatever) that's getting their pay by doing whatever he's wasting time with. But looking at it from an economical point of view, was he doing it because he had no one else to do it?
Or was he doing it because he didn't want to pay anyone else to do it?
Just in case- "I deal with fixing mechanics, as well."
And as that little voice of hers internally screamed at him to buy it, she gave a smile, not wide enough to show teeth, to bring it all home. She kept the details hidden lest he asked for em. He didn't seem like he enjoyed wasting time, and she wasn't going to try adding herself to the 'not like' tab.
Then, it slid open, revealing a older man, about a decade exact older, than her. And what she gauged from the ruffled dark hair, oil slick over brow, and irritation, was that this was a moment he shouldn't have been bothered. But here she was. Inwardly groaning at whatever had peeved off the man and increased the difficulty of this mission, the beaut kept herself together. "Interview," she stated in that heavenly voice of hers. Not too loud, no purr, not too soft, no bark. Just a chic remix to a classy tune.
"General, or personal staff. No difference."
Vyn was a girl of many masks; she could be a million and one things, and she knew all of them like the back of her hand. Atleast when it came to bars, nightclubs, and theft. But she was atleast trying to make an honest living. Here. For now. And from her perspective, it looked like the man needed some machinery assistance. Hands all oily, face all greased up, there was no way in hell the owner should have been the one looking through whatever machinery he was- he was the damn owner. There's supposed to be a guy (or girl, whatever) that's getting their pay by doing whatever he's wasting time with. But looking at it from an economical point of view, was he doing it because he had no one else to do it?
Or was he doing it because he didn't want to pay anyone else to do it?
Just in case- "I deal with fixing mechanics, as well."
And as that little voice of hers internally screamed at him to buy it, she gave a smile, not wide enough to show teeth, to bring it all home. She kept the details hidden lest he asked for em. He didn't seem like he enjoyed wasting time, and she wasn't going to try adding herself to the 'not like' tab.
-
Salem Norongachi
- Staff
- Posts: 141
- Joined: Mon Sep 04, 2017 3:46 pm
Re: Forever Grindin' [Salem/Closed]
She spoke and he stared all the while his hands worked mechanically at their given task. It wasnt an unkind stare, more the type one expected when dealing with a machine; Devoid of expression and laser focused on every word. On how they were delivered, how the muscles of the face moved as the words were spoken. He was visually dissecting his hopeful employee as no one ever had. It was unconscious -habit- and on more than one occasion it had been called rude but as had been previously noted; he was a man of few words and conversations were already halfway over before either party had opened their mouths.
"Hold that." Norongachi said and shoved the rag into her hands, then turned on his heel and strode into the half-light of the corridor. "Keep up!" he called over his shoulder without looking round. The main bar and lower dance floor opened up before them, the former on his right and the later on the left, with its twin held above it on three stout pillars. There was a stage at the back of the lower as well but kids these days never appreciated live music so it had become extra dance space, a more prime spot for look-at-me types that could be found in any nightclub the Galaxy over.
He pulled up at the bar, snatched his coat from its black lacquered top and the saber hilt with it, which he snapped to his trouser belt. It was then he looked down at the front of his shirt, saw that it was done for and frowned. "Pull up a seat, make a drink. I'll be back." he strode off into the darkness again, through the security door and up to his office. There was a small on-suite there and he worked hard at the filth on his arms, hands and face, before he set his hair to 'business as usual' and then thumbed the release for his walk-in. The wooden panel slid aside and he snatched a black shirt from the rack and its matching trousers.
Downstairs, way at the back of the first dance floor, barely audible curses could be heard. They were colourful, most didn't make sense, but they fully conveyed the displeasure of doing whatever the speaker was currently doing. Then a mountain of a man stomped into sight (A mountain that had been squashed so that its bulk went sideways) from a doorway. His coveralls were drenched and he carried with him the faint wiff of day old urine and the cheapest cologne money could buy.
"Hey boss! I got 'fresher three unclogged but I dunno what the frak they jammed down two. Probably gonna need to pull the pip-" it was then that N'kal, part time pirate, full time dogsbody and all around whipping boy for Salem Norongachi for over half a decade saw her. Eyes don't rarely pop, not without lasting consequences, but his did. The sudden rush of blood actually made his eyeballs protrude by a millimeter or two from their sockets when he clocked her. "Bugger me side ways." he whispered, as much a request as a turn of phrase.
He sucked in his gut, not that there was a noticeable improvement, and with great effort let his step fall into what he hoped was a rakish swagger. The rotund, now wobbling and waddling, pirate managed all of six steps before Norongachi returned. His mouth was opened, he was about to speak but Salem beat him to the punch.
"No. No. Yes I'm sure. Get back in the toilets." was all his boss said fastening a button on his fresh suit jacket and shaking his head as mutters filtered through to them from the retreating form. "He complains like a protocol droid but he works hard and is unshakably loyal, much to his detriment at times." Sal commented, then leaned an elbow on the bar near her. "Well? Start selling."
"Hold that." Norongachi said and shoved the rag into her hands, then turned on his heel and strode into the half-light of the corridor. "Keep up!" he called over his shoulder without looking round. The main bar and lower dance floor opened up before them, the former on his right and the later on the left, with its twin held above it on three stout pillars. There was a stage at the back of the lower as well but kids these days never appreciated live music so it had become extra dance space, a more prime spot for look-at-me types that could be found in any nightclub the Galaxy over.
He pulled up at the bar, snatched his coat from its black lacquered top and the saber hilt with it, which he snapped to his trouser belt. It was then he looked down at the front of his shirt, saw that it was done for and frowned. "Pull up a seat, make a drink. I'll be back." he strode off into the darkness again, through the security door and up to his office. There was a small on-suite there and he worked hard at the filth on his arms, hands and face, before he set his hair to 'business as usual' and then thumbed the release for his walk-in. The wooden panel slid aside and he snatched a black shirt from the rack and its matching trousers.
Downstairs, way at the back of the first dance floor, barely audible curses could be heard. They were colourful, most didn't make sense, but they fully conveyed the displeasure of doing whatever the speaker was currently doing. Then a mountain of a man stomped into sight (A mountain that had been squashed so that its bulk went sideways) from a doorway. His coveralls were drenched and he carried with him the faint wiff of day old urine and the cheapest cologne money could buy.
"Hey boss! I got 'fresher three unclogged but I dunno what the frak they jammed down two. Probably gonna need to pull the pip-" it was then that N'kal, part time pirate, full time dogsbody and all around whipping boy for Salem Norongachi for over half a decade saw her. Eyes don't rarely pop, not without lasting consequences, but his did. The sudden rush of blood actually made his eyeballs protrude by a millimeter or two from their sockets when he clocked her. "Bugger me side ways." he whispered, as much a request as a turn of phrase.
He sucked in his gut, not that there was a noticeable improvement, and with great effort let his step fall into what he hoped was a rakish swagger. The rotund, now wobbling and waddling, pirate managed all of six steps before Norongachi returned. His mouth was opened, he was about to speak but Salem beat him to the punch.
"No. No. Yes I'm sure. Get back in the toilets." was all his boss said fastening a button on his fresh suit jacket and shaking his head as mutters filtered through to them from the retreating form. "He complains like a protocol droid but he works hard and is unshakably loyal, much to his detriment at times." Sal commented, then leaned an elbow on the bar near her. "Well? Start selling."
-
Vyn Reigns
- Registered Member
- Posts: 19
- Joined: Sun Apr 22, 2018 7:07 am
Re: Forever Grindin' [Salem/Closed]
If she hadn't known cold and callous men before, she would have assumed the machine was this man, himself. The older man stared at her with a look that would have made any fresh bloom wilt, but this rose was more than just pretty. She was patient and knew how to let time slide by when needed. If he was giving her them seconds to reconsider, the vixen handed them right back.
The tactic seemed to have worked, as he allowed her to not only start being acquainted with the effort of bustling behind him, but the illustration of what he had been running as far as establishment. Of course the club was empty; who clubbed in the day time? Taking that rag and following closely, the only sounds between them were the 'snap clack' of those stilettos of hers and the air that breezed past them. The slide of the metallic door as it shut and locked behind them was also on the list, but finally signing off was Mr. Norongachi's voice.
Instructing her to relax herself a bit, the Vahla noted it as he took his immediate belongings and flew into a shadowed wall. Looking around, she knew she would have ample time to take in her surroundings while on the job, but considering he just might keep her overly busy, she anticipated the worst before the best. That swayed the minx to take in what she could as she was given the chance for. Just in case he hired her for janitorial work, which she prayed no man would be foolish enough to waste a pretty face for, she eyed the floors, polished and waxed to a excellent degree. Vyn kept her eyes on the pillars, and already she appraised the architectural setup for it. It was a member of a raised floor, and she found if anyone digged more classy tunes, or a actual centerpiece, this would be the spot to host it. However, youth just weren't into those things anymore, and it was ironic how she and her soon-to-be boss were unconsciously on the same page.
Taking a breather from that place, she made her way past the majority of the floor, and stepped over to the bar. If he chose for her to be a bartender, she would find herself quite at home. It had shown just as she made her way through the slot pass and wandered 'aimlessly' up and down the aisle. The vixen was savoring the expansive allotment of both vintage and modern flavors that were available. Fruits and berries were in an entirely new layer on their own accord, and she wandered right over to them. They had happened to be organized as her prior more proper bartending jobs had, labeling them by location and alphabet rather than just choppily named flavor. It was something more bars or worthy liquor-holdings had been doing to ensure not only did they get product that wasn't generic, but that their employees who dealt with using them or purchasing them memorized and knew where to get the quality item. So apparently, this man had a more intricate and promising way of handling his liquor. Vyn liked that.
Licking those scarlet lips, she reached a manicured hand out to the glass and pulled herself a 6 oz. cocktail glass. Pulling free a thermos flask, she saved getting the ice for last which was much to her unknown benefit. Without turning back around, she underhandedly tossed the oily rag still in her hand on the sleek black-top bar, and used the other to pull free from the tiers a bottle of Reythan concentrate and a bottle of Grava berry extract. With both being swiftly swished into the thermos, she threw a dash of sweet berry in the warm violet hued drink, and whirled it less than 5 times just to get them acquainted. Then a long slurr of basic gin, and in it went. While they marinated, Ms. Reigns grabbed herself some ice from the strangely open icebox, and threw it in the mechanical grinder, before sliding the chunkified frozen slush into the thermos where she sealed and shook it to a little beat in her head. Tossing it up a few times, she ensured all the flavors were well aware of each other, a loving orgy of strong, sweet, and mild. And just as she finished the final shakes, she rimmed her glass in sugar rather than salt, and twisted open the thermos, pouring the fruity elixir into the glass. Freeing another glass, she poured the remnants of it in after rimming the glass with sugar. The gorgeous sparkles of dark violet winked teasingly in their tank of amber blue world. The perfume was phenomenal, and sitting herself down, she closed the top of the opened ice maker, and began her first sip of paradise.
It was a perfect twirl of swooney magic, that hum of gin kicking that fruity flavor of berry and sugar in the spotlight. A drink you could get drunk on, and not even realize. The perfect cocktail for a good girl's night out. Just as she was relishing the trip, a heft of heavy steps disturbed the panther's thoughts of bliss. Turning acute irises towards the sound, she witnessed a man who could have easily been mistaken as someone's janitor. A fit face for a janitor, rather, as opposed to herself. Hopefully he was filling the role, and Mr. Norongachi didn't need this man to have a partner in dirty duty. He looked at her stunned, as if he was eyeing someone that was otherworldly in all ways. Naturally she would have given off her seductive charm, winking and waving with a 'shut up and kiss me' smirk, but all that was uncalled for right now. He wasn't who she was aiming to 'impress', and thus she acted accordingly with a nonchalant glance and a toothless half-smile his direction even as he strode to catch her eye. The air conditioning nulled the majority of the smell, but the breeze it created gave her a pinch of the undesirable waft.
It was then the boss came back down, even more dashing in business attire and all for it she crossed her legs on that stool and sat her drink down. Beside it was the other, which she had made for him in case he was into trying other's work before he signed their name on his employee list. It also was a sign she had more professional sense than most assumed the Vahla background to be. Like he had read the situation for what it was, the boss has screened off and detoured the beefy man with an immediate shut down, telling him to get back to work, to which the man replied with haste and grumbles. Disappearing from the scene, Vyn that much more was relieved, along with impressed by his swift deductions. This man didn't play. Good.
With a tilted head, she nodded towards the second cocktail, offering it to him in case he was apt to try her work. Though it wasn't coat tailed to his fancy, whatever that may be, it surely tasted as if someone with alcohol smarts made it. Otherwise, she continued.
"Mechanic work for starships, vehicles, and any gear-based electronics, and I tinker a bit with little things on the side. Receptionist, great as a secretary. Very organized, and professional, and rough when needed. I've pulled security before, but only in small joints. Waitress experience, and well versed in bartending."
She knew it was wrong for her to not mention how great she was at cleaning and cooking as well, and she also didn't know whether he had 'bar snacks' or 'meals' in this particular place of his, but she immediately smothered the thought with "By the way, the water pipe you have connected as the main source to that ice machine is either locked in too tight of a notch, or something else is blocking a valve in the pipes to where it's causing pressure on your pipe."
A sip of the elixir she had crafted before she finished with a shrug. "That's gonna make that keep happening," she pointing her gaze to the melting ice cubes on the lonely dance floor.
The tactic seemed to have worked, as he allowed her to not only start being acquainted with the effort of bustling behind him, but the illustration of what he had been running as far as establishment. Of course the club was empty; who clubbed in the day time? Taking that rag and following closely, the only sounds between them were the 'snap clack' of those stilettos of hers and the air that breezed past them. The slide of the metallic door as it shut and locked behind them was also on the list, but finally signing off was Mr. Norongachi's voice.
Instructing her to relax herself a bit, the Vahla noted it as he took his immediate belongings and flew into a shadowed wall. Looking around, she knew she would have ample time to take in her surroundings while on the job, but considering he just might keep her overly busy, she anticipated the worst before the best. That swayed the minx to take in what she could as she was given the chance for. Just in case he hired her for janitorial work, which she prayed no man would be foolish enough to waste a pretty face for, she eyed the floors, polished and waxed to a excellent degree. Vyn kept her eyes on the pillars, and already she appraised the architectural setup for it. It was a member of a raised floor, and she found if anyone digged more classy tunes, or a actual centerpiece, this would be the spot to host it. However, youth just weren't into those things anymore, and it was ironic how she and her soon-to-be boss were unconsciously on the same page.
Taking a breather from that place, she made her way past the majority of the floor, and stepped over to the bar. If he chose for her to be a bartender, she would find herself quite at home. It had shown just as she made her way through the slot pass and wandered 'aimlessly' up and down the aisle. The vixen was savoring the expansive allotment of both vintage and modern flavors that were available. Fruits and berries were in an entirely new layer on their own accord, and she wandered right over to them. They had happened to be organized as her prior more proper bartending jobs had, labeling them by location and alphabet rather than just choppily named flavor. It was something more bars or worthy liquor-holdings had been doing to ensure not only did they get product that wasn't generic, but that their employees who dealt with using them or purchasing them memorized and knew where to get the quality item. So apparently, this man had a more intricate and promising way of handling his liquor. Vyn liked that.
Licking those scarlet lips, she reached a manicured hand out to the glass and pulled herself a 6 oz. cocktail glass. Pulling free a thermos flask, she saved getting the ice for last which was much to her unknown benefit. Without turning back around, she underhandedly tossed the oily rag still in her hand on the sleek black-top bar, and used the other to pull free from the tiers a bottle of Reythan concentrate and a bottle of Grava berry extract. With both being swiftly swished into the thermos, she threw a dash of sweet berry in the warm violet hued drink, and whirled it less than 5 times just to get them acquainted. Then a long slurr of basic gin, and in it went. While they marinated, Ms. Reigns grabbed herself some ice from the strangely open icebox, and threw it in the mechanical grinder, before sliding the chunkified frozen slush into the thermos where she sealed and shook it to a little beat in her head. Tossing it up a few times, she ensured all the flavors were well aware of each other, a loving orgy of strong, sweet, and mild. And just as she finished the final shakes, she rimmed her glass in sugar rather than salt, and twisted open the thermos, pouring the fruity elixir into the glass. Freeing another glass, she poured the remnants of it in after rimming the glass with sugar. The gorgeous sparkles of dark violet winked teasingly in their tank of amber blue world. The perfume was phenomenal, and sitting herself down, she closed the top of the opened ice maker, and began her first sip of paradise.
It was a perfect twirl of swooney magic, that hum of gin kicking that fruity flavor of berry and sugar in the spotlight. A drink you could get drunk on, and not even realize. The perfect cocktail for a good girl's night out. Just as she was relishing the trip, a heft of heavy steps disturbed the panther's thoughts of bliss. Turning acute irises towards the sound, she witnessed a man who could have easily been mistaken as someone's janitor. A fit face for a janitor, rather, as opposed to herself. Hopefully he was filling the role, and Mr. Norongachi didn't need this man to have a partner in dirty duty. He looked at her stunned, as if he was eyeing someone that was otherworldly in all ways. Naturally she would have given off her seductive charm, winking and waving with a 'shut up and kiss me' smirk, but all that was uncalled for right now. He wasn't who she was aiming to 'impress', and thus she acted accordingly with a nonchalant glance and a toothless half-smile his direction even as he strode to catch her eye. The air conditioning nulled the majority of the smell, but the breeze it created gave her a pinch of the undesirable waft.
It was then the boss came back down, even more dashing in business attire and all for it she crossed her legs on that stool and sat her drink down. Beside it was the other, which she had made for him in case he was into trying other's work before he signed their name on his employee list. It also was a sign she had more professional sense than most assumed the Vahla background to be. Like he had read the situation for what it was, the boss has screened off and detoured the beefy man with an immediate shut down, telling him to get back to work, to which the man replied with haste and grumbles. Disappearing from the scene, Vyn that much more was relieved, along with impressed by his swift deductions. This man didn't play. Good.
With a tilted head, she nodded towards the second cocktail, offering it to him in case he was apt to try her work. Though it wasn't coat tailed to his fancy, whatever that may be, it surely tasted as if someone with alcohol smarts made it. Otherwise, she continued.
"Mechanic work for starships, vehicles, and any gear-based electronics, and I tinker a bit with little things on the side. Receptionist, great as a secretary. Very organized, and professional, and rough when needed. I've pulled security before, but only in small joints. Waitress experience, and well versed in bartending."
She knew it was wrong for her to not mention how great she was at cleaning and cooking as well, and she also didn't know whether he had 'bar snacks' or 'meals' in this particular place of his, but she immediately smothered the thought with "By the way, the water pipe you have connected as the main source to that ice machine is either locked in too tight of a notch, or something else is blocking a valve in the pipes to where it's causing pressure on your pipe."
A sip of the elixir she had crafted before she finished with a shrug. "That's gonna make that keep happening," she pointing her gaze to the melting ice cubes on the lonely dance floor.