His hand grips her gently, as he eases them both back into the room so he can seat himself on the top of his desk and pat his lap as an invitation to join him. If his time here with Lucas and Rowan has taught him anything, it's how to read between the lines. He thinks he might see what's really going on now a little better.
"We are technically here because the fae want us to play. But that doesn't mean we can't pursue other things too. Owning a cafe like this has been a life-long dream of mine. It's work, but it's also passion for me."
His voice is soft and soothing, as he asks, "Mort, do you have anything like that? Any life-long ambition or dream you've always wanted to fulfill?"
Mort follows Max, to a point. She watches as he sits but doesn't trust herself to occupy his lap just yet. If he wants to talk he certainly doesn't need her wriggling against him.
...Then again maybe she can distract him better that way. The thought lingers even if she doesn't act upon it just yet.
"That's all well and good for you, and I'm full glad for it." Her hands find her own hips, "I've no skill for baking! Or cutting hair! Or...or researching, or anything as such. I'm only successful at Lord Akeldama's shop because of one thing..."
Her hands slide around to the front of her thighs, forcing her breasts together while she juts her hips out to one side. If it wasn't for sex appeal what good is she?
That one thing she's talking about is no mystery, especially with her showing it off like that. And it's a lovely sight, to be sure, but Max likes her for more than just her tits and ass and he means to tell her so.
"Hey now, customer service is a skill that not all of us possess, you know? Your charm and humor mean just as much as your body for closing the sale I'm sure. Not that I have a problem with anyone, you included, choosing to use your body for profit. But I guess that's the thing, I think you should be allowed to decide if that's what you want."
He looks her steadily in the eyes. "Is that still what you want?"
Mo'rtahja is...missing the point. Whether on purpose or not, she's not even aware. But it does seem to flip a switch. Suddenly she stamps her foot, hands stiff at her sides with her cheeks puffing out again. Even her tail is bristled out in frustration.
"That's all I'm good at! That is all I know, so why shouldn't I continue? Anyroad, we're all here for a show, so why not make the most of that!?"
He stands, overcome by the urge to try and pull her into a hug and soothe her, but he stops short of doing that, instead, offering his hands to her palms up if she wants to take them.
"There isn't a person here who would argue you are not very good at it. I see no reason not to be proud of that. But you're selling yourself too short saying that's all you're good at. Because not only can you dance, and perform dazzling acrobatic stunts, and magic, but I've seen you kick my ass at fencing too. Not to mention your quick wit and dependability. There's so much of you that I value. I guess... I just really want you to be able to see yourself the way I do. I see a capable, clever, sexy young woman in front of me who could do anything she wanted so long as she put her mind to it." You can be more, Mort.
Mo'rtajha straightens, just barely able to contain a frown. Her ears give her away, pinned back against her hair.
"It is! All I'm good at, all I know!" Her voice threatens to crack but still Mort presses on.
"And besides, isn't it the selfsame reason we were brought here? To lie with one another for the fae's amusement? Just so! And I shall be the one to do it best!"
His heart breaks seeing her look so upset. And he's torn: does he say more, try to make her see what he's getting at or... does he let it go and hope she will come around to the understanding on her own?
"Mort... I... I hope you know that just because something is all you've ever known doesn't mean it's all you'll ever have to know. The fae want us to entertain them. It's true. But I think even they must know there's more to life than just sex. And there's more to us than just being playthings. Can't you see that?"
Mo'rtajha draws herself up, taking a long, deep breath through her nose. She can also read between the lines. For all their similarities Mort knows they are also so very different.
"I was never free before." Somehow her voice is steady with conviction even as she feels like collapsing to the ground and wailing until her lungs are raw.
"It is all I know. Even after my escape what I knew kept me fed and clothed when all else failed." Another breath, thready, as her eyes burn with tears.
"We cannot leave this city. We are here at the whim of our patrons. 'Tis little price to pay than to rely on mine own skills to keep my new masters happy." At last, those tears slips free, running down her cheeks, "I am what I am, and what I always will be, Max."
"I know we don't have the same backgrounds, but I would never ever judge you for doing what you needed to do to survive. I'm not saying you have to stop now if you don't want to." But there's that caveat again, what she wants.
"You are what you are. We are all forged by our pasts. But, Mort, I will never accept that you have to be one thing forever. You can be more. I know you can."
Tentatively, he reaches out to stroke his thumb over her cheek, to wipe away the tears.
"Change is hard. But it's not impossible. When I first got here, I panicked because I didn't know how to live without a Master anymore. But my friends helped me see that I didn't need one. I could be my own man. Now I am. So, I promise you, right now, that if you want my support to find your own way, you will always have it."
Edgar doesn't like to use the tomes that often; it never feels right, talking to someone when you can't see them. So he waits for the opportunity to catch Max at the cafe after closing, finishing up the dishwashing in record time to be sure he won't miss him on the way out.
"Hey," he says, poking his head into the office while still drying his hands on a clean towel, "you got a moment?"
Max is just tidying up a stack of papers that lists all the purchases of the day. Thanks to fae magic he doesn't have to worry much about turning profit (or even paying for materials) but he likes to track purchases so he can see what the popular items are, that way he'll make sure to bake enough of them. Setting the papers aside, he smiles up at Edgar.
"Saw your video the other day, about the thing you want to do for Mort's birthday, and -- okay, first off, I'm in if you need any help for that, but it made me think of something else. Cause you do the cake thing for everyone that asks, and I was, you know, wondering ..."
"And, as it happens, I do. February twenty-second. So, just later this month. Why do you ask?" he says, as if he doesn't already have a very good idea why.
"Yeah. I'd love that. I bet she would too." This doesn't require any pretense at all because his enthusiasm is as genuine as can be. "Last year I did a caterpillar cake for her, but this year I need to step it up. Any suggestions?"
Max happily bumps fists with Edgar, while also marveling at the gesture because... when did Edgar learn that one?
"For the sake of freshness, we should do it the day before and let it sit in the fridge overnight to harden. So, why don't we work on it after closing that Monday?"
Ever since they made plans to do it, Max has been looking forward to the day. Baking with friends is one of his favorite things.
He comes bounding into the kitchen from the back office, having finished up his calculations in record time. He smiles seeing Edgar has polished off the dishes with the same amount of vigor.
"All right! Looks like we are ready to get started. First things first, baking the cake. We have to decide on the flavor. Would you like to do the honors?"
"Uh ..." He racks his brain for a moment, trying to think of any flavor that he knows Ren likes. She liked the chocolate well enough, but he doesn't want to give her the same flavor she gave him ...
His tone is doubtful, but with a touch of hope. "D'you know if there's any such thing as beer-flavored cake?"
"As a matter of fact, there is. I know a recipe for a Guinness beer and chocolate cake that I bet she'd love. It doesn't have to be strictly Guinness. I think any stout would do." It's such a perfect idea he doesn't know why he didn't think of it.
"Aside from the beer, the rest is just the usual suspects. Flour, eggs, cocoa powder, vanilla, sugar, butter, oh and sour cream, actually, for this one instead of milk. It'll end up with a denser kind of pound cake consistency. Which is good because we'll need it to be sturdy enough for all the added molding chocolate on top. We'll still use a square pan, though. Here, gimme a second."
Max grabs a pad of paper and a pencil and writes out the list of ingredients and quantities in perfect cursive along with basic instructions.
"Take a look at that and get your bearings while I go grab a stout from the office." Max, being somewhat of an alcoholic, has an impressive stash tucked away in the back cabinet in his office. He's kept his promise to Lucas that he wouldn't indulge alone too often, but it makes him feel better to know it's there. And, it does help to have on hand for occasions like this.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2022-01-13 08:45 pm (UTC)"We are technically here because the fae want us to play. But that doesn't mean we can't pursue other things too. Owning a cafe like this has been a life-long dream of mine. It's work, but it's also passion for me."
His voice is soft and soothing, as he asks, "Mort, do you have anything like that? Any life-long ambition or dream you've always wanted to fulfill?"
(no subject)
Date: 2022-01-13 09:06 pm (UTC)...Then again maybe she can distract him better that way. The thought lingers even if she doesn't act upon it just yet.
"That's all well and good for you, and I'm full glad for it." Her hands find her own hips, "I've no skill for baking! Or cutting hair! Or...or researching, or anything as such. I'm only successful at Lord Akeldama's shop because of one thing..."
Her hands slide around to the front of her thighs, forcing her breasts together while she juts her hips out to one side. If it wasn't for sex appeal what good is she?
(no subject)
Date: 2022-01-13 09:32 pm (UTC)"Hey now, customer service is a skill that not all of us possess, you know? Your charm and humor mean just as much as your body for closing the sale I'm sure. Not that I have a problem with anyone, you included, choosing to use your body for profit. But I guess that's the thing, I think you should be allowed to decide if that's what you want."
He looks her steadily in the eyes. "Is that still what you want?"
(no subject)
Date: 2022-01-13 09:39 pm (UTC)"That's all I'm good at! That is all I know, so why shouldn't I continue? Anyroad, we're all here for a show, so why not make the most of that!?"
(no subject)
Date: 2022-01-13 09:49 pm (UTC)"There isn't a person here who would argue you are not very good at it. I see no reason not to be proud of that. But you're selling yourself too short saying that's all you're good at. Because not only can you dance, and perform dazzling acrobatic stunts, and magic, but I've seen you kick my ass at fencing too. Not to mention your quick wit and dependability. There's so much of you that I value. I guess... I just really want you to be able to see yourself the way I do. I see a capable, clever, sexy young woman in front of me who could do anything she wanted so long as she put her mind to it." You can be more, Mort.
(no subject)
Date: 2022-01-13 10:48 pm (UTC)"It is! All I'm good at, all I know!" Her voice threatens to crack but still Mort presses on.
"And besides, isn't it the selfsame reason we were brought here? To lie with one another for the fae's amusement? Just so! And I shall be the one to do it best!"
(no subject)
Date: 2022-01-14 04:37 pm (UTC)"Mort... I... I hope you know that just because something is all you've ever known doesn't mean it's all you'll ever have to know. The fae want us to entertain them. It's true. But I think even they must know there's more to life than just sex. And there's more to us than just being playthings. Can't you see that?"
(no subject)
Date: 2022-01-14 05:46 pm (UTC)"I was never free before." Somehow her voice is steady with conviction even as she feels like collapsing to the ground and wailing until her lungs are raw.
"It is all I know. Even after my escape what I knew kept me fed and clothed when all else failed." Another breath, thready, as her eyes burn with tears.
"We cannot leave this city. We are here at the whim of our patrons. 'Tis little price to pay than to rely on mine own skills to keep my new masters happy." At last, those tears slips free, running down her cheeks, "I am what I am, and what I always will be, Max."
(no subject)
Date: 2022-01-14 06:08 pm (UTC)"You are what you are. We are all forged by our pasts. But, Mort, I will never accept that you have to be one thing forever. You can be more. I know you can."
Tentatively, he reaches out to stroke his thumb over her cheek, to wipe away the tears.
"Change is hard. But it's not impossible. When I first got here, I panicked because I didn't know how to live without a Master anymore. But my friends helped me see that I didn't need one. I could be my own man. Now I am. So, I promise you, right now, that if you want my support to find your own way, you will always have it."
CAKE OR DEATH
Date: 2022-02-09 08:09 pm (UTC)"Hey," he says, poking his head into the office while still drying his hands on a clean towel, "you got a moment?"
lol
Date: 2022-02-09 09:03 pm (UTC)"Sure. Grab a seat? What's up?"
(no subject)
Date: 2022-02-09 10:51 pm (UTC)"Saw your video the other day, about the thing you want to do for Mort's birthday, and -- okay, first off, I'm in if you need any help for that, but it made me think of something else. Cause you do the cake thing for everyone that asks, and I was, you know, wondering ..."
A pause.
"D'you know when Ren's birthday is?"
(no subject)
Date: 2022-02-09 10:57 pm (UTC)"I'd love your help decorating the café." Which, he conveniently also asked Ren to help him do too, what a coincidence.
"And, as it happens, I do. February twenty-second. So, just later this month. Why do you ask?" he says, as if he doesn't already have a very good idea why.
(no subject)
Date: 2022-02-10 04:42 am (UTC)"Could I help you make her cake, like she did mine?"
(no subject)
Date: 2022-02-10 02:49 pm (UTC)"Yeah. I'd love that. I bet she would too." This doesn't require any pretense at all because his enthusiasm is as genuine as can be. "Last year I did a caterpillar cake for her, but this year I need to step it up. Any suggestions?"
(no subject)
Date: 2022-02-10 04:48 pm (UTC)"How about a dragon? A little one."
(no subject)
Date: 2022-02-10 10:52 pm (UTC)"I have to say, I don't think I've ever sculpted a dragon in cake before. But, I'm up for it if you are."
(no subject)
Date: 2022-02-11 05:16 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2022-02-11 03:58 pm (UTC)"For the sake of freshness, we should do it the day before and let it sit in the fridge overnight to harden. So, why don't we work on it after closing that Monday?"
(no subject)
Date: 2022-02-11 05:05 pm (UTC)And after closing that Monday, he once again hurries through the dishwashing, this time to be ready to help Max with the cake.
(no subject)
Date: 2022-02-12 12:25 pm (UTC)He comes bounding into the kitchen from the back office, having finished up his calculations in record time. He smiles seeing Edgar has polished off the dishes with the same amount of vigor.
"All right! Looks like we are ready to get started. First things first, baking the cake. We have to decide on the flavor. Would you like to do the honors?"
(no subject)
Date: 2022-02-13 04:51 am (UTC)His tone is doubtful, but with a touch of hope. "D'you know if there's any such thing as beer-flavored cake?"
(no subject)
Date: 2022-02-14 08:33 pm (UTC)"You might be a natural at this."
(no subject)
Date: 2022-02-14 11:24 pm (UTC)(You might be a natural at this feels less like a real assessment and more like Max's usual expansive affection, and as such he's very happy with it.)
[cw: mentions alcoholism]
Date: 2022-02-15 04:06 pm (UTC)Max grabs a pad of paper and a pencil and writes out the list of ingredients and quantities in perfect cursive along with basic instructions.
"Take a look at that and get your bearings while I go grab a stout from the office." Max, being somewhat of an alcoholic, has an impressive stash tucked away in the back cabinet in his office. He's kept his promise to Lucas that he wouldn't indulge alone too often, but it makes him feel better to know it's there. And, it does help to have on hand for occasions like this.
"I won't be long."