Afterparty

[latinumsbetter]

[After Zvei walks down into the earth and it closes over his head, and Typhon gives his goodbye...the Phantasmal Bar finally flickers out of existence. Quark breathes out a slow breath.]

Alright. The bar downstairs is going to be open. Stop in. [That is not a request.]

Riful, let's see what we can do about that thing you need.

[He'll give Leb a squeeze--before she detaches from him. He makes eye contact at least once with all of his employees, and then he turns and walks out of the Arena. So...post trial, the bar downstairs is once again open. The employees are around at different times, and Quark is once again behind the bar. There’s been several of the extra togas gathered and folded to be used as blankets. There's food and drinks and places to sit and think or talk or whatever one would like to do.

There are two more drinks that are made and sit just behind the counter to accompany with the other two that are usually remade and replaced every day.

The door is open.]

Comments

[murchada]

Ha... Not that much, honestly.

[the emotional energy, though? well. let's not talk about that.]

Anyway, technically I'm here on a volunteer basis. I can take a break whenever I want, "boss".

[latinumsbetter]

[Quark blinks at that...before he huffs]

I was wondering how long it would take you to notice.

[murchada]

Oh, I noticed a bit ago. But it's fine. It helps to make everyone here just... a little bit more chilled out.

[latinumsbetter]

[His brow furrows a little bit, tapping his foot, considering]

...I could hire you. Officially.

[murchada]

Hmmm, is that right?

What, with a wage and everything?

[latinumsbetter]

Yeah. Like the others.

[murchada]

Hm.

[she hums again. considering.]

What do they get paid, anyway?

[latinumsbetter]

They get paid in tokens, depending on how well they negotiate.

1/2

[murchada]

Oh, pass.

[immediate]

What am I going to do with those, anyway? Spend them here?

2/2

[murchada]

...What's your currency back home?

[latinumsbetter]

[Oh. Now that's interesting. Quark's eyes narrow, slightly]

Gold-pressed latinum.

[murchada]

Then how about we put my hours on your tab for now.

[one gets the feeling that if Cerejeira was the type, she might have a little shit smirk right now or at least giggle in that way that Leb does. but it's her, so her face is totally deadpan.]

And you can pay out in latinum, later.

[latinumsbetter]

Alright.

Three slips of latinum a night.

[murchada]

[now, she doesn't know the currency. she could ask more info, but it doesn't really matter; she has to trust Quark either way.

(and she does. more than she trusts herself.)

so, she considers. decides to take a shot.]

Six.

[latinumsbetter]

Four.

[murchada]

Five.

[latinumsbetter]

Deal. [he sticks out his hand]