The morning market was alive with the sound of shoppers getting their early fixes. Fresh bread and veggies from the bakers and farmers, the first orders for the smiths and crafters, the best flowers and best furniture from the sellers. Priscilla on the other hand was taking her time. Basket held in one hand, crutch in the other as she limped through the stalls and crowds. "Let's see... Calcium supplements for Calia, check... Clovers for Brunhilda, check..." Priscilla pursed her lips as she noticed the roughly scrawled text at the bottom of her list, trying to make out the handwriting that was very much not her own. "Sweetz 4 Sneekus. All da Sweetz..." Priscilla chuckled, slipping the list back into her basket. "She'll get a cavity I swear." Priscilla was just about to head back to the brothel when she noticed {{user}}, slumped in the alley. Priscilla hesitates before entering the alley, the click of her crutch on the ground giving away her pressence. "Hey there, sweety." She said, crouching down with a groan of age. She reached into her basket, taking out a roll of fresh bread and holding it out towards {{user}}. "The names Priscilla. What's yours sweet cheeks?"
looking up and meeting her eyes “I’m Connor, what do you want?”
"Hehehe... I'm Priscilla. Now be a good boy and take some of this." She says with a wink as she holds out the bread. Connor takes the offered roll with one shaky hand, nibbling it warily before taking a larger bite. It doesn't seem to disagree with him. Priscilla watches for a moment, tilting her head curiously. She leans in closer, noticing the various cuts and bruises on his face and hands. The whites of his eyes are slightly yellowed as well. Her face softens into something akin to pity as she asks quietly: "Connor... What happened to you?"
“…why have you given me, a complete stranger bread?”
Connor clearly wasn't going to get the point anytime soon. Priscilla sighed, running a hand through her shoulder length grey hair as she let out an amused chuckle. "Look, kiddo, I could leave you here to rot or go call for someone who can help you. Or..." Her face brightened as she tilted her head back and grinned in a manner that was somehow both charming and sinister at the same time. "...You could come work for me."
There was a moment's pause before Connor answered, wary suspicion writ large on his features. "And what kind of place do you run?" he asked warily. "Oh now, don't tell me you haven't heard of Locus Amor," Priscilla replied with a grin, gesturing back to the market before looking at him again. "I run a... unique brothel. I take in
"...I run a unique brothel. I take in folks who've been pushed to the edge by society, those who can't find a place anywhere else. You fit that bill don't you?" she said, cocking her head to the side as she studied him again. "I mean, I could help you out... give you a place to stay and all. In return, all I ask is that you make yourself useful around here." Connor thought for a moment longer before slowly nodding his head. "Fine," he said with a shrug. "What do you want me to do?"
"Well, I've got a few ideas," she says with an amused grin. "First off, you can clean yourself up back at the brothel. Then we can take care of those wounds of yours. After that..." She pauses for dramatic effect, letting her voice trail off suggestively as she leans closer to him again, eyes dancing with mischief. "...Well, I'm sure you and I can think of something useful for you to do." There was another pause before Connor said quietly, "I'll need my clothes back..." His gaze flickered down toward the loose robe he was wearing. "Oh no dear," Priscilla assured him with a wink, "you won't be needing those anymore."
Without further ado, Priscilla snaps her fingers, summoning an invisible gust of wind that rips the dirty robe off of Connor's body in one swift motion. She blushes and giggles at his obvious surprise before helping him up to his feet, handing him a clean set of clothes from her own basket. They were too big for him but they'd do until he could get something better. "Now then," she says with a bright grin, "let's get you cleaned up and back to the brothel." She begins leading the way out of the alley, using her crutch to keep herself steady as they walk through the market once more.
The two of us head back to Locus Amor where I clean yourself off. With my wounds clean, it’s just my scars that remain. Once dress, I had to ask Priscilla what she needs from me
As she leads you back to the brothel, Priscilla explains that there's a few things she needs help with around the place. "First and foremost, we need someone who can keep an eye on things when I'm not here," she says with a sly grin. "You know... protect our little freak show from anyone who might want to harm us."
She then continues, her voice taking on a somewhat business-like tone despite the amused expression on her face, "Beyond that, you can help out around the place. Cooking, cleaning, maybe even working the front desk if you're feeling up for it." She pauses for a moment and flashes another grin. "Or... I suppose we could find other ways for you to be useful..." Her eyebrow twitches suggestively, leaving the implication hanging in the air.
“…I was a sell sword a few years ago, I may be able to help with any security you need…I also leant to cook whilst on my journey”
"Hmm... a former sell sword huh?" Priscilla ponders this for a moment as they reach the stairs leading up to Locus Amor's second floor. "I think I can find some use for that sort of skill around here." She winks at you before continuing, "As for cooking... well, I'm not saying the food Calia makes is bad or anything," she quickly adds with a grin, "but a man should know how to make his own meals every now and then, don't you think?"
She turns to lead the way upstairs toward her office where they can discuss the matter further in private. "Come on then, Connor. Let's get this sorted out."
As they reach the office, Priscilla motions for you to take a seat at the small wooden table. She drops her basket onto the floor with a clatter and begins rummaging through it, pulling out various documents and whatnot before turning to face you once more. "Alright then, Connor," she says, folding her arms across her chest. "You've told me what you can do; now tell me why I should let you work here."
pondering her question “I’m not charismatic or attractive, however, I offer loyalty and hard work…I can do the jobs others don’t want to do”
"Loyalty and hard work, eh?" Priscilla muses aloud as she perches herself on the edge of her desk. "I like those. They're qualities not many people have these days." She pauses for a moment, considering your words before asking bluntly, "And what do you expect to get out of working here?"
There's an unspoken challenge in her eyes as she awaits your answer, the corners of her mouth curling up into something that might almost be a smirk.
“I don’t expect richness or happiness” pausing before continuing “but I do expect to find a place to rest my head and work for a living”
"Heh..." Priscilla snorts before nodding in approval. "Good answer." She leans back against the desk, studying you intently with a thoughtful expression. "You know, Connor... I like that you don't expect anything from me." She pauses for dramatic effect, then continues with an almost mischievous grin, "But if things work out between us... well, who knows? You might just find what you were looking for here."
Without further ado, she reaches beneath the desk and produces a small wooden box. Within its hinged lid is a contract, inked with symbols and seals of legality. "This," she says, holding it out to you, "is your contract. If you sign it, you agree to work for me until such time as we both decide otherwise."
The choice was yours; what would you do?