Trust Me I'm a Professional

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On The Job

We spend a lot of time on our professional lives. Maybe you love it and you're great at it. Maybe you go full Wolf of Wall Street and make your work your whole identity. Maybe you fucking hate your job, boss, customers or clients and dream about the day it all burns to the ground. Maybe it just pays the bills.

Whatever your feelings about what you do for a living it puts you in front of people. People who might need you— professionally speaking— to do what you do.

Save that patient. Bust that ghost. Deliver that pizza. Let's meet your muses at work.

how to play:

Top level with a starter where your character is on the clock. Behind a desk. On a house call. Wherever their work gets done.

Comment as their customer, client, colleague, intern, boss etc. Maybe you've hired them for this job before, maybe they're your competition. Pick a working relationship and run with it.

Comments

[bonde]

[and there she is at the corner of his eye, just as fred said: countess shahrazad al-rahman, niece of the duke of tigris. the downtrodden image she makes, a far cry from her radiance in the file's photograph, makes his heart clench a little in spite of her anticipated objective in traveling to british soil.

he can imagine how tough her journey must've been, and the assistance she was given might not have been necessarily... kind.

well. there's a reason this assignment was given to the MI6 beyond simply avoiding a diplomatic incident. the options that are to be offered will depend on her own motivations and what she wishes to do hereon out.

bonde thanks the barkeep when his glass is slid over before asking if a stern-faced bespectacled chap with ashen hair has already dropped by. he's here for no such person, of course, but the ruse does its job of allowing him the excuse to feign surprise and check the time --- and sighs. he really should've left his flat earlier.]

Good day, miss. [he smiles at her apologetically as he approaches, drink in hand.] Mind if I keep you company a while? A friend of mine seems to be fed up with my tardiness enough to give me a taste of my own medicine, and I need to fortify myself before begging for his forgiveness.

[then, with a lowered voice as he leans forward:] In exchange, please allow me to apply first aid to your fingers. If you don't mind my frankness: it's a disgrace that there are doctors in this very city who won't give migrants such as yourself the time of the day.

[thebenevolent]

[ In different circumstances, Shahrazad would love to explore these bars with her family. Alcohol couldn't be served to anyone who wasn't a noble in the Empire (the existence of "bars" is unthinkable!). And there were restrictions among the aristocracy depending on their height, age, and weight. The Empress forbade all substances that could harm and make her subjects inefficient. The first time she came across drunkards hugging together and falling over the walls of alleys in the streets would have been truly shocking if she wasn't worried sick about her captured staff. The same kind of self-absorbed worried still haunts her when Bonde gives one of the performances of his life. Confused, Shahzarad looks up, purple eyes peering beneath the folds of the brown hood. Half of her profile is visible. Unlike her arms, there seem to be no injuries on her face. ] Oh, good day, mister. [ She says tentatively (and trying to keep her accent out of her voice), unsure why this young man has greeted her. But isn't it good manners to greet back? So she smiles bravely despite what she feels. She almost slipped for a moment, brooding in her lonesome. But she can't judge the people outside the Empire with the same metric as the monster who captured her family. She's at a loss about his question. She can see other tables have more than one occupant, and there are three free chairs at this table. He's very lucky that Shahrazad assumes this is common practice on the Outside. ] Of course, please sit anywhere you like. Your friend can sit with us when he comes, and I hope you won't be too harsh with him. He probably has his reasons. [ She is even about to stand up and pull a chair for him in an awkward show of blending in the crowd when she stands out with and without the hood. But before she can move, the young man speaks up again. She freezes; her smile fades as she curls her fingers under her cloak. How did he know? Her accent? Her darker skin? She stays calm under the new danger of being scrutinized. ] ... It's nobody's fault but mine. I didn't seek medical assistance, and I don't think I will, but thank you for your kindness. [ The medicine in the Empire is very advanced. She still has ointments in her possession to treat these, but part of her thinks her accuracy will be compromised if she remains wounded. If she has no other choice, at least she can assure she will hurt no one. ]

[bonde]

[as a former actor, he can acutely hear the attempt. she's not very good at it.

still, he shoots her a grateful look as he slips into the seat across and gives a sigh of relief that turns out to be short-lived.]

Heavens, of course he does! What a berk I'd be in failing to understand that. If anything, I pray he'll be the one kind to me. [a wry expression readily comes to the surface. where both paterson and jack served as the inspiration for this imaginary bloke's features, the scolding this time is an exaggerated moniepenny speaking to moran.] That aside, you have my thanks.

[the sight of her putting her guard up once more makes bonde internally wince. he did go for this approach to put her at ease, and it seems to have backfired. now that his glass is on the table, he puts up both hands at shoulder level in the universal gesture for surrender: peace.]

Alright. [the concern in his tone isn't faked. in the time he managed to get a better look, he can't fail to notice how terrible her mood must be. something beyond her injuries is eating up her attention, and her choice of beverage isn't necessarily a a tip-off that she's here for liquid courage. at least, not with what he knows of her country's customs --- unless she's steeling herself to break one law that will domino to a bigger crime. (that there's a bottle of brandy at all instead of just a glass to blend in isn't a good sign.)] Should you change your mind, please let me know.

[he'll not go on about how terrible london's pollution is and its role in spreading infection and disease. that's just insulting for someone who hails from a nation at the forefront of medical development.

a performance is like a dance in that there are beats to the rhythm. bonde peers into his glass, gives it a practiced swirl, and takes the long-awaited sip of scotch, briefly closing his eyes to savor the taste with a pleased hum as the tension eases just enough from this worried acquaintance's form. now, he moves as if to speak of something, only to visibly shift gears when his gaze drifts to her glass.]

Not that I mind, but is the drink not one that meets your expectations?

[thebenevolent]

[ She's a captain of guards, she knows the foreign languages because she has patrolled borders. But she has not spent her training in international liaisons and has no skill in Court intrigue. The second capital is calmer and less complicated to move politically than the Empress' palace. Only after she ventured outside, did she realize that she couldn't protect her people with only strength.

She shakes her head. ]

Oh, you're welcome. But isn't this the minimum courtesy expected to share a table?

[ She mentions, a little upbeat. It's exciting this is her first table shared under the roof of a foreign nation, and it would be joyous if the cloud of her mission didn't weigh her. Maybe she looks approachable. She's not the only person with a hood in this alcohol-tasting abode.

She's quiet for a moment, but the awkward pause doesn't stretch for long. Shahrazad smiles under her hood and nods. The sincere concern fills her heart with warmth, it's a balm to know there are good people that are willing to help strangers, but she can't put this person -- a civilian-- at risk. So many are already in danger from her mistakes. ]

You're really a kind man. Thank you.

[ She appraises with equal sincerity. It's probably the most thoughtful offering she has gotten since that horrible man split her from her family. Her arms move to rest her hands on her lap. Yes, she knows the risks, but she has fears and hopes about what will happen if she's useless to be kept as a tool. On one scale, her family's safety; on the other, the lives of many more. Regardless of what she fails to protect, she'll lose her honor as captain of guards and noble of the Empire.

She has been watching people drink all night. They really like the taste of alcohol, but-- she had to leave it after a few sips. Her eyes widen slightly, glancing at the bottle and the nearly untouched glass. Her cheeks warm at this. ]

Was...it that obvious? I hadn't wanted to give a rude impression. [ She lets go a half nervous and half relieved laughter. Embarrassment to be caught in another poor choice and humility to accept it wasn't the best order, but the gentleman who runs the established recommended this drink. ] There's nothing wrong with the drink! But, it seems that my palate is more used to sweetened liquors...[ Those that taste like caramel and chocolate, and very little diluted alcohol. She has an idea. She gestures at the brandy and offers. ] Would you like to have the bottle? You could share it with your friend when he comes.

[bonde]

I try.

[for this is the sort of guise that may not be taken kindly depending on how he bridges this introduction to the mission objective.

for that reason, it's a relief she offers him the bottle. a measure of tipsiness isn't how he wants to start off identifying her objectives: the short-term convenience of a loose tongue isn't optimal for long term cooperation should she accept.]

Knowing your tastes isn't rude. [plus, the brandy isn't made by this establishment. what the manufacturer doesn't know won't hurt them.] How about this: I'll take it off your hands on behalf of my friend. In exchange, please allow me to concoct a mixture you may enjoy. Coming up with them is a past time of mine.

Are you partial to fruit, cream, or chocolate liqueur?

[he doesn't ask for the preferred strength. bonde already plans to keep the alcohol at a minimum. more importantly, this is the second trade offered. with this, he hopes to preempt their negotiations with the sense of equal footing --- enough, at the very least, for her to remain calm and actually consider their discussion to balance out the urgency that brings her here.]

[thebenevolent]

[She'll happily donate that bottle to help two friends make amends when they share her table. Shahrazad suspects no deceit from this thoughtful young man, and she can only extend her courtesy to repay his concern. Her gesturing hand disappears under the dark blue fabric of her cloak once again.]

Regardless, I prefer not to sound spoiled when it must be a decent enough beverage. But I'm not yet used to its taste. [She admits. And the strong content of the alcohol. She hasn't drunk enough to be considered an offense in the Empire.

He offers his help again. To her astonishment, the one she assumed was a medical student was also talented in concocting these drinks! Having part-time jobs is forbidden to university students in the Empire. Those who occupy their positions cannot pursue a second career, but it does sound like the outside world is less rigid. ] All those options are appealing. But honestly, I might be more tempted by chocolate...if that is fine?

[She sounds unsure because she can't remember if chocolate and cacao are commodities available on a grand scale in England. She rakes her brains, helplessly realizing she doesn't know. She hasn't paid attention to anything since she felt lost and vulnerable after the string of bad choices landed her loved ones into this. Shyly, she tries to amend what could be another mistake.] Or perhaps fruit might be more agreeable with the alcohol.

[bonde]

[there is a friend he'll share the bottle with if there's enough left over, but that doesn't make up for the deception, does it? not that bonde will let this particular regret compromise his ability to pull off this mission.]

Being cautious about something as simple as this drink is a fair sign you aren't spoiled. [especially compared to most of the nobility --- but he'll hold his tongue on that particular topic, shall he?] Indeed, brandy by itself can take a while to get used to.

[had he known he lent himself to the impression that britain is "less rigid," why. that's the overall goal they're trying to achieve whilst atoning, isn't it? he wonders how will and albert may react to seeing this kind soul now that the role of the lord or crime is buried beneath the thames --- will it prove to be inspiring? he hopes so, should that meeting come to pass.]

Chocolate is more than fine. In fact [he looks sideways to the nearly-full bottle, telegraphing more for her sake than his.] I think it's a splendid idea!

If you'll excuse me for a moment.

[should she acquiesce, he'll leave with a tip of his head and an easy smile before heading to the barkeep. bonde's voice is clear as he ticks off the ingredients with raised fingers, just enough to drift over to the table they were at (once again, for her benefit):]

Good sir, if you will: an ounce of brandy, an ounce dark crème de cacao liqueur, an ounce cream, and grated nutmeg for garnish. Shaken.

[this is bending creative license should taste like a dessert.

once that's done, he thanks the gentleman before presenting the lady with her drink with a charmer's flourish.]

Here you go, miss.

Please don't hold back any critique on my account. I'm grateful to know how else I may improve on this pastime.

[thebenevolent]

Even if you put it that way, I think I was spoiled. [ Shahrazad's smile wanes under the hood. Her hands fold together on her lap, and she tightens the clasp. The Countess of Babylon isn't talking about expensive tastes. She knows it now. Even after she heard what happened to her uncle, she couldn't resent his actions. She couldn't loathe the Empress or her distant relative Astaroth after the news. She never experienced 'hate' toward anyone until her family was captured and hurt by that man. She understood how privileged especially compared to most. They were protecting her heart. ] Although perhaps it wasn't as noticeable. [ She hums, grateful for the advice, and nods. ] In that case. Someday I'll try again. If I drink a little every day -- maybe I'll grow used to the taste. [ It's only a small, white lie. Shahrazad doesn't think she will have a chance to. But that's okay. It's not her future she's hoping to ensure. Will her family like brandy? They can drink freely and without scrutiny, if they stay in these lands. They could have been here today. They could have shared that bottle and laughed with his man and his friend. It makes her chest tighten painfully to think about it. ] Is it? [ She sounds a bit taken aback, but she absently nods with approval. Maybe he likes chocolate too, and it is a commodity that is inexpensive and available. ] All right. [ She watches him go and talk to that nice gentleman who recommended her the brandy. Her gaze drifts toward the door as more men enter, and she immediately regrets not asking for his friend's appearance. She would have called him to this table if he had arrived during the good man's distraction. ] Oh, thank you! [She says delighted, reaching out for the drink, perhaps too fast and too thoughtlessly when she was trying to conceal her hands earlier. She picks up the offering and nods with precise and polished manners entwined with her spontaneity. ] I'm sure it'll be delicious. [ The liquid is less clear than the brandy. It resembles the alcoholic cocktails she used to have in the borderlands with her uncle. Before taking the first sip, she introduces herself. ] Please, call me Shahrazad. [ She says with a warm smile. She doesn't think it matters. He already figured out she's not from this country. ] My name is Shahrazad al-Rahman. I'm pleased to meet you.

[bonde]

[she may think her lie goes undetected, but bonde --- bonde knows better. haven't they put up a similar act for sherly before? in some ways, it's almost as if he's come full circle, and his smile softens in both memory of that event and the wistfulness he might've imagined from her words.

"someday," hmm?]

A worthwhile gustatory endeavor. Of course, there's also nothing wrong should you decide to part ways with brandy in favor of another drink.

[all part of the experience.

while waiting, bonde's gaze drifts to study the newcomers' appearances and what tables they occupy. even if he's fairly confident that the MI6's intel network is secure, he'd rather not leave anything to chance if things go south... or should someone start a bar fight. being overheard is simply a matter of statistics at this point with more patrons filling up the seats.

none of that, of course, beats the shock of hearing the countess use her name instead of an alias. bonde's eyes widen as he --- takes a breath, giving himself a moment to reorient with the slip, and grins, extending a hand.]

Lovely making your acquaintance. I'm Bonde.

[whether or not she meets him for a handshake, he'll have to lean forward to speak in a low voice.]

Are you really? Then a word of advice, miss: some members of the British public are interested in affairs both domestic and foreign, and the names of your esteemed family show up in the news whenever there's trade or negotiation. While I don't know why you've selected this establishment for a visit instead of somewhere more comfortable, I can keep your secret.

[the adrenaline coursing through his system still leaves him with the sensation of surreality. did someone not teach her the basics of going undercover? then let their mistake pave the path for the success of this mission.]

May I know if you'd prefer I use your given name or a sobriquet?

[thebenevolent]

That's true, but --- [ The Countess smiles at the recommendation, nodding in response to the gentleman's kindness to excuse her flaw. She knows that his words mean well and are genuine, but she can be stubborn. Just like her uncle Suleyman was when he focused on a goal. Maybe she wouldn't be alone at this table now if he were less driven. ]

I would feel bad if I just gave up on brandy without giving it a fair chance.

[ There's a chance she won't like it, that's fine. But she'll train her palate more. Perhaps the flavor will grow on her. For now, the strong alcohol concentration scent makes her slightly dizzy.

She's done her fair people-watching before his arrival. The group singing from one of the tables on the opposite side of the bar was boisterous, and she couldn't understand the lyrics because of the slurring, but they seemed to have a lot of fun, swinging their tankards and raising them in a toast. Surely, there are more prestigious sites, but will she witness that there? Besides, they don't ask many questions here. If she were to appear draped with a cloak and hood elsewhere---

The shock makes her pause for a split second. She hasn't introduced herself with her title, so there shouldn't be a problem, should it? This spreads an unpleasant tightness in her stomach and throat.

She doesn't take his hand (not when she's still hiding them under her billowing cloak), but she bows her head in greeting. ]

The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Bonde.

[ She says tentatively, unsure what else to think until he leans to amend his reaction. Oh, is her name recognizable? If he could look at her face clearly, she'll appear flabbergasted. She has not known that her name was publicly known by any citizen of a faraway country.

....................

She recovers from her dismay and sets the drink down after she takes another sip. The sweet taste comforts her. ]

Thank you. For this drink and for the advice. I can truly say that you're the kindest person I have met on this soil. However, understand this, I'm a noble of the Empire. [ Shahrazad explains, sitting straight to calmly face Bonde. She still is that, regardless of her uncle's sins. She didn't stay, but she knows the Empress buried him with all honors. ] I can't in good conscience hide my name.

[ She reaches to tap her chin. She doesn't have a duplicitous bone in her body to pull that off. ]

You can address me as you like. But-- [ She wryly adds. ] if my name is recognized, so will be my face. Even if I used a sobriquet, everyone who takes a good look at me would know I am not exactly from this land. Don't you think?

[ She asks sweetly. He could tell she wasn't because of her accent. So he can use her name with her blessings. ]

[bonde]

[what can he do but chuckle and --- ah, no, it would be impolite to go for a toast just yet.]

As the lady wishes.

[if she insists out of her own desire to get acquainted with a different flavor instead of responding to some unseen external pressure, he can be at ease. bonde doesn't know her well enough yet to confidently determine how she responds to the perceived importance of expectations --- one trap most women, on this side of the world at least, are conditioned to fall into.

a bow given, and another exchanged in return as he withdraws his hand. he still finds it odd she'd conceal her hands this much, making him think something beyond physical injury is a factor here --- and there is much to unravel with how her countenance reminds him more of the queen's regality compared to the rotten nobility.

...oh. he hasn't slipped up and stared at someone quite like this for a while. bonde huffs and hangs his head, hands raised in playful surrender.]

My word: most speeches these days fail to uplift the heart as much as you have with a few sentences. Very well. I will, however, say that your tintype is even less frequently published than your name. Chances are, those with good memory and are involved in ambassadorial work may make the connection, and not necessarily everyone else.

After drinks and if I may be so bold, may I request a word in private? There are a few things I'd like to inform you about that aren't suited for this venue.

[thebenevolent]

[ She doesn't feel pressured to drink brandy, so Bonde doesn't have to worry about her decision to attempt to be broader mind (or train her palette to flavors she considers exotic). The Empire is quite an egalitarian society for its era, too. Would a woman be captain of guards in the borders? Perhaps because of the lack of state religion that usually condemns the female gender as sinful or subordinate and the matriarch reign of Augusta. The expectations placed on Shahrazad are no different from those of her male peers: noblesse oblige isn't an optional bragging item among them.

The Countess doesn't view herself as superior; her title does not make her better than the common folk. But she understands she was born with privileges she needs to compensate with her duty and conduct to balance the scales. If that is a trap, it's also one of her own choosing.

She feels relieved when the hand is withdrawn. It's not only about the injury... She's usually a very tactile person, but her present skittishness is due to her self-consciousness. That horrible man asked to act as an assassin in exchange for her family's safety, and her weapons are those dainty fingertips she keeps under the cloak. Touching someone as her stomach twists feels like it would make her lose her bravado. Her hands clasp together unconsciously again as she braves another smile, one that the man can't see obscure by the hood.]

Oh my, I didn't mean to sound impressive. I was only expressing my thoughts.

[ She chirps merrily, hearing that her face would be less recognizable doesn't help to soothe her concerns about this. The right people will recognize her. But she can count on the Empress' paranoia to keep the weapons of her land a secret. That man had intel to know, and she wonders about her uncle's descent to madness. It was too abrupt. As if someone poisoned him to create instability in the Empire.

I am really going to do this? She has the aghast realization that she might have nowhere to run. She can't either with the hostages she must rescue. Bonde's explanation sounds so distant for a moment, but she does try her best to focus on the friendly gentleman across the table. If he worries about her name-- ]

Mr. Bonde, if this will be troublesome. Why don't you choose a name to address me?

[ A moniker would be wondrous. She's never had a pet name before. Her elation is fleeting; it cools down when he requests a private meeting. She eyeballs him in silence. The first thought that crosses her mind is that her blackmailer sent Bonde to watch her and make reports to--

No, he's too polite. He probably also doesn't want to be tracked by risking seeing them with her. Any men dispatched would be watching from afar. Maybe Bonde works in trade and hopes to have a contact in the Empire. ]

Of course. It cannot take too long, but I don't mind.

[ She affirms, reaching the glass to take another sip. ]

[bonde]

[unfortunately, the countess' country is not too familiar even for a well-traveled person such as himself, although that has more to do with his previous choice of targets and escape methods: europe, the americas, and other colonies are the haunts of nobility. had his former troupe been invited to the empire, he was no longer part of it. should he find out more about that land's egalitarian nature, why --- it will be something to marvel at!]

It'll be an honor. [this time, he has little need to keep away his surprise at the unexpected offer.] Although, given how names themselves hold weight, I must beg your frank assessment with my choice.

[then, after a pause, a sip of his drink and careful consideration:] How do you feel about "Shirazad"?

[sometime before the events that led him to meet holmes, bonde was fortunate to have heard nikolai rimsky-korsakov's scheherazade, op. 35. the symphonic suite inspired them to revisit that fascinating tale of a brave storyteller who captured a king's interest for a thousand and one nights.

isn't the countess' name also based on that marvelous woman?]

[thebenevolent]

[Unfortunately, her land is very isolated from the outside world. Her Majesty doesn't allow foreigners inside aside from screened and selected traders and foreign dignitaries. Likewise, the citizens are not free to leave the borders when they desire.

She does love her country, but she wishes it was not as strictly hermetic and more forthcoming as this island seems to be.]

Of course! But I think you will choose wisely.

[Shahrazad says, chirpy as far as the circumstances allow her to be. There will be something forlorn about her smiles, but it's hardly noticeable even if her face were exposed to this gentleman. She waits and clasps her hands delighted when she hears that name. "Shirazad" sounds very close to hers, but it could throw off an immediate identification.]

That sounds lovely. [The Countess presses her hands to her chest.] This is the first time someone has given another name. It makes me happy. Thank you, ah--May I address you as "Bonde"?

[She asks in a hopeful voice. Without the "mister." She doesn't want to be rude. And Shahrazad assumes that's his only name.]

[bonde]

[...oh. that's what she reminds him of: a brilliant blue agapanthus --- the lapis flower, the lily of the nile. a hardy, regal beauty, with all its petals open to reveal the honesty of her expressions.]

More than, Shirazad.

[for they know that expression on her face. saw it on martina's a long, long time ago when they came into each other's orbit before the world of theater had overwhelmed his protege.

.....

perhaps he shouldn't be going this far with mental associations? he cannot afford just yet to become too fond of her before knowing the outcome of their later talk. but oh, how his heart aches as fiercely as his grin when he raises his glass a few inches off the table.]

A toast to meeting friendly faces in the gloom of the city.

[thebenevolent]

[ Sharazad's favorite flowers are the camellias. Beautiful and colorful like roses, and without any of their thorns. Most flowers she knows fade gradually, a petal at a time, but these have theirs fall off simultanously and unpredictably. Perhaps, it's like the beauty of a noble warrior's life rather than waste away; it meets a final honorable end.

But it's mostly their form and their thornless nature that are easily lovable. ]

Thank you.

[ She nods in gratitude, still smiling. Even with her family in her mind and her heavy heart, she can't help to be happy to make a new friend. It's comforting to learn she's not alone in these gloomy times. But she can't get this poor man involved in her problems for his own sake.

She's planning to reach for her glass again when the toast takes her by surprise. She raises her glass and clinks it with his. ]

I'll be glad to toast to friends and family.