dr. stephen strange (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rehandle) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
meadowlark2019-12-24 07:06 pm
rehandle) wrote in meadowlark2019-12-24 07:06 pm
@stephen.strange
For those of you I haven't introduced myself to yet, my name is Dr. Stephen Strange.
The more recently arrived may not know but thanks to the generosity of Morningstar we own two buildings in New Amsterdam: one is the garage above the current safehouse and the other is a bar under the sports stadium in the city.
The latter we intend to open soon as Red Wings, a working sports bar, with a view to ensuring financial independence and security for us as a group going forward. It's been in the works for a while, will operate under the management of myself and [Bad username or site: clarke @ griffin], and we're looking for a staff.
We'll need bar staff and security for busier periods. We're aiming to create as much opportunity as possible, so if you're interested don't hold back on letting us know. There's no application, no bar work experience necessary, we'll just need to speak with you to figure out suitability and availability. If you're interested in a security position I need to stress that power use is absolutely out of bounds, so experience will be a little more important here.
If any of the more financially established of you can volunteer time or resources while we get this off the ground, that will also be appreciated. Any of you with significant Cooltalk followings, I'd like to talk about collaborating to help us hit the ground running.
Any questions, interest checks, etc, you can get in touch with me here or with Clarke or myself personally via direct message.
The more recently arrived may not know but thanks to the generosity of Morningstar we own two buildings in New Amsterdam: one is the garage above the current safehouse and the other is a bar under the sports stadium in the city.
The latter we intend to open soon as Red Wings, a working sports bar, with a view to ensuring financial independence and security for us as a group going forward. It's been in the works for a while, will operate under the management of myself and [Bad username or site: clarke @ griffin], and we're looking for a staff.
We'll need bar staff and security for busier periods. We're aiming to create as much opportunity as possible, so if you're interested don't hold back on letting us know. There's no application, no bar work experience necessary, we'll just need to speak with you to figure out suitability and availability. If you're interested in a security position I need to stress that power use is absolutely out of bounds, so experience will be a little more important here.
If any of the more financially established of you can volunteer time or resources while we get this off the ground, that will also be appreciated. Any of you with significant Cooltalk followings, I'd like to talk about collaborating to help us hit the ground running.
Any questions, interest checks, etc, you can get in touch with me here or with Clarke or myself personally via direct message.
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no subject
[ time to get out of his loungewear ]
Action
Give it time. Just give it time.
There's no hiding his face in any meaningful way, but he keeps a hood up when he's out on the street anyway. He pushes it back when he arrives. Sharkface is dressed in cargo pants and a coat over his sweatshirt. One of the first things he bought in this place was a decent pair of steel toed boots and that helps somewhat, until he remembers that it isn't armor and he's stupidly vulnerable like this. Out in the open with only knives and his own instincts to keep him upright. But that's part of the game, and it's one he intends to survive. There's no other choice. He's got a mission to complete.
He knocks his knuckles against the door. ]
Strange, right?
[ Someone who's name is actually more distinctive than his. ]
Action for always
[ Stephen for his part stands there in his 26th century equivalent of jeans and a pullover, looking perfectly comfortable in the bar as he wanders further in to make room for his future staff.
It's easy enough to see what he meant by standing out. The look over Stephen had given him lasted no more than a few seconds after he'd opened the door, but he'd made no effort to conceal it, or the hitch of an approving smile on his face as he'd turned away. The guy looks like trouble. The kind of trouble most people aren't going to want to mess with.
The bar itself is exactly what it says on the tin: a sports bar, remodeled for the appropriate century. It's all shiny and new, untouched. ]
Terrence Ephemera?
[ It's rare he hears a name on the same sort of level as his own. Terrence Ephemera doesn't exactly conjure up the image of the man in front of him, but then again he doesn't know what kind of a person Stephen Strange would bring to mind either.
Anyway, worth checking. He only sounds vaguely skeptical. You never know which names are an El-designed alias these days. ]
no subject
Doesn't hold himself like a fighter, or at least not the kind Sharkface is used to, but that doesn't mean that much around these parts.
He flexes his fingers so he won't clench his hands. The rings tattooed around his fingers are stark black, and cut through with scars. ]
Just Ephemera.
[ No one's called him Terrence since he was a teenager. Ephemera is closer to the truth, not entirely a lie, and he knows better than to go around telling people the name he goes by in his head. It wouldn't go over well, and he needs allies here. At least a few people who'll help him if he needs it, or at least won't get in his way. ]
Nice place.
no subject
[ It's an undercover joke that wouldn't even be funny to the people who do know the place was mostly fixed up thanks to weird dream magic. There's slight humor in his tone but he moves on without bothering to explain, heading behind the bar to lean there, at ease in the space.
Stephen notices the flexing of fingers. Hands are a thing you tend to pay attention to when you're so conscious of your own. The scars aren't the same surgical spider scrawl as those running along the lines of his own bones but he makes a mental note of them all the same, files them in with those more evident elsewhere and the tattoos on Ephemera's fingers.
Not a fake name, then. Or at least not one he's going to ditch.
Stephen settles in, crossing his hands together on the bar top, tone casual even as he asks the obvious question: ]
Private security? I presume bars weren't your usual clientele.
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[ He follows, but not too close and always careful to keep Strange out of his blindspot. There's no hiding with his armor gone and no helmet to disguise the scars, but Sharkface just has to deal with that. Adapt to the situation he finds himself in. Right now that means gathering allies, or at least a few people who won't try to kill him on sight. He's not stupid enough to believe these people could be friends, but allies are a start. Fodder for a common cause.
He keeps standing. Just in case. ]
I was a merc.
[ No use in dancing around that. It'll come out eventually. ]
Did convoys, high security meetings, just about everything. Even bars a few times. I know the drill.