Logs:Bespeaking

Bespeaking
Dramatis Personae Desi, Marinov
In Absentia Ryan, Charles, Daiki, B	2022-11-22 "I'm like, doing the thing he says he wanted us to do! A career! But perhaps he imagined that I would take up custodial at the school instead."
Location <NYC> Evolve Cafe - Lower East Side
Spacious and open, this coffeeshop has a somewhat industrial feel to it, grey resin floors below and exposed-beam ceilings that have been painted up in a dancing swirl of abstract whorls and starbursts, a riot of colour splashed against a white background. The walls alternate between brick and cheerfully lime-green painted wood that extends to the paneling beneath the brushed-steel countertops. There's an abundance of light, though rather than windows (which are scarce) it comes from plentiful hanging steel lamps. The walls here are home to artwork available for sale; though the roster of prints and paintings and drawings and photographs changes on a regular basis it has one thing in common -- all the artists displayed are mutants. The seating spaced around the room is spread out enough to keep the room from feeling cluttered. Black chairs, square black tables that mostly seat two or four though they're frequently pushed around and rearranged to make space for larger parties. In the back corner of the room is more comfortable seating, a few large black-corduroy sofas and armchairs with wide tables between them. There's a shelf of card and board games back here available for customers to sit and play. The chalkboard menus hanging behind the counter change frequently, always home to a wide variety of drinks (with an impressive roster of fair-trade coffees and teas largely featured) though their sandwiches and wraps and soups and snacks of the day change often. An often-changing variety of baked goods sit behind the display case at the counter halfway back in the room, and the opposite side of the counter holds a small selection of homemade ice creams. A pair of single-user bathrooms flanks the stairway in back of the cafe; at night, the thump of music can be heard from above, coming from the adjoining nightclub of the same name that sits up the stairs above the coffeehouse. While it is gloomy outdoor, the inside of the cafe today is bright and bustling. There are a pair of young men-- one with his hair tied up in a bun with strikingly green eyes, and the other with shaggy red hair that does little to cover his pointed ears, single prominent horn, and jet black skin-- argue loudly about politics (the former about the importance of voting Democrat, the latter about how everything is bullshit). A young woman in a beanie with her forehead pressed against the table as she waits for the caffeine to counteract her hangover, while her boyfriend tells her about a new smartphone release. In between them, a mug of coffee is being stirred with nobody apparently handling the spoon. These and more voices compose the din of lively conversation. In the corner on one of the comfortable chairs, in an orchid coloured suit with angular shoulders over a white blouse, a feline mutant's ears twitch around as their attention is drawn to pick up bits and pieces of these conversations, while they try to maintain attention on their own. Their phone is in their hand, showing the interface of the in-development app to their companion as they speak: "Something tricky'd probably be ensuring the safety of all involved when getting non-standard measurements... not sure if there could be, like, vetted community spaces to meet up or whatever... I'd hate to see a bad actor using it for shitty purposes." Perched primly cornerwise from Marinov, Desi is wearing a bell-sleeved blouse in autumn sunset ombre and a sky blue layered handkerchief hem skirt over tall slouchy brown boots. Her hair is braided in one neat crown braid that wraps around to hang down over one shoulder. She hums quietly and jots something on the tablet tucked into the crook of her elbow. "I can ask around, but offhand my top candidates would be Chimaera or..." She turns her hand--stylus and all--palm-up to indicate the cafe around them. "...here. When the upstairs isn't in use, maybe? If they got the space next door sorted, it would be perfect." She considers Marinov for a moment. "Have you given thought to setting up a physical office?" Marinov turns the smartphone's face back towards themselves, leaning in a bit to look at it a moment before placing it face down on the arm of the chair. "I mean. I've thought about it. It's something you're supposed to do, yeah? Like, if your work is picking up steam, and it definitely is, you should..." They scratch their neck under their ear lightly and pick up the cup of tea resting nearby. "Do you think it'd be a good idea? Like... an office is pretty expensive to get and maintain, and it's like. I would need to get plants, right? And like. Desks." They exhale sharply. "I think I'd need help... lots of help. I know how I like my workspaces to be, but an office is not just that, yeah?" Desi taps her chin thoughtfully with her stylus. "I think that it is not strictly speaking necessary at this stage. But." She reaches for her tea as well, consciously or unconsciously following Marinov's cue. "It would be good for optics and possibly for the comfort of some clients. I don't need to tell you how the fashion industry sees you, or that you need to work twice as hard as most designers to be taken seriously, but you will certainly be the face of B-Spoke" She takes a small sip and sets her mug back down. "Having an office or a workshop, even a small one, may help with that. A studio space at Chimaera would not be too hard on your budget, and you could also meet clients there, but I'm not sure that's the..." A smile, not unkind though perhaps a little ironic, tugs at the corner of her mouth. "...vibe you're going for." Marinov taps the tip of their claw a few times on the side of the cup. "... Yeah. It's not really-- I mean, I got nothing against weird art hippies. Some of my favourite people are weird art hippies. But--" They look down at the surface of their tea and place it back on the nearby table. "Yeah. Not really the vibe I'd want in an office. Something just big enough that I can work, no harsh lighting, no weird smells... that's pretty much all I'd need for something workable. You have any thoughts on where I would start looking? I don't really have the hugest budget." "Mm. A nice coworkering space really would be ideal. Affordable, convenient, on-brand for a hip young entrepreneur." Desi frowns down at her tablet, then busies herself jotting down a note. "It might be a job finding one that suits your particular needs, but I'll put out some feelers..." Her eyes settle on Marinov for a thoughtful moment. "Another thing to consider is asking for serious seed money. I understand if you don't want to tap Ryan right now, but are relevant grants out there. Your best bet might be appealing to the Professor directly about the GENUS small business assistance program, though I certainly understand if you don't want to do that. Again, I'm glad to put out feelers." "I can be a bit on the fussy side, I guess," says Marinov, their claws comb gently through their fur as they avert their eyes. "I appreciate any help that you've got when it comes to finding a space, though. I know that I am not gonna be able to afford to be too picky or anything." Their gaze returns to Desi's face, their ears twitch a couple of times. "Uh. Anyways. I guess I can ask the Professor, but I feel like after the whole." They form a fist and gently bap it against their own chin. "I dunno, that bridge feels mildly scorched at the very least. But between sparing my pride and advancing my career... I'll come to him, metaphorical hat in hand." "If it's any consolation, you only did what generations of Xavierites have dreamed of. It's probably happened dozens of times in his head." Desi sounds very earnest, and very certain. "Punching aside, the old man hasn't had a stellar track record supporting alumni businesses owners, but maybe that's an angle to work. He talks a big game about wanting to help graduates succeed, it would be refreshing to see him put his money where his mouth is." She scribbles down another note and twirls her stylus idly around the tail of her braid. "Regardless of that, I don't think you're fussy. I guess--I meant it'd be a job finding places that won't be too fussy about you. But you didn't need me telling you that, I'm sorry." "He must have seen it in my head no shortage of times, so really, he probably should have seen it coming as the inevitability it was," says Marinov thoughtfully. "The guilt angle seems like a good way to go, though. I'm like, doing the thing he says he wanted us to do! A career!" A little wryly, they add, "But perhaps he imagined that I would take up custodial at the school instead." They shake their head, "Anyways. Yeah. I know that's the bigger factor, but I've taken it as a given for long enough that-- Well. Was just trying to think of obstacles that are out of the ordinary, yeah?" "Mm. I think the school might start running short on menial work to magnanimously bestow upon alumni. Really, you're helping them out, no?" Desi lifts both eyebrows. "Alright, then. Let me know how it goes with the Professor, and if he won't hear reason, you might try Dr. Grey about it. In the meantime, I'll look into suitable spaces for client consultations at least, if not a proper office." She tucks the stylus into the crease of the tablet's folding case. "I can check in with the rest of the Team, too. Dai should have some marketing materials for you to look over, though we can hold off until after Halloween if you're still rushing to finish any commissions. Which I am dying to hear about, by the way." "We'll see, maybe I'll even break out the sad kitten eyes. Really shake cash out of those heartstrings. I'll let you know." Marinov nods firmly, but their ears perk and their eyes brighten at the topic of Halloween. "Yeah, I'm on schedule, but that doesn't mean that I don't have to be rushing. You should come out to Chimaera and see-- though I suppose my drawings would be better when I don't have my commissioners at hand. Do you have any plans for a costume? Or any big plans?" They are already fussing to get their own tablet open for said display. "It's always a busy season for me, but it's worth it to see some cool shit coming to life!" "Ah, what I wouldn't give to to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. Maybe I can prevail upon B to lend a bug bot for the purpose." Desi's thoughtful frown clears as quickly as it came. "Oh, I'm going to be Glinda the Good--officially! Again. Though it's been years since I did that, and there's got to be some kind of statue of limitations on repeat costumes. It won't hold a candle to your commissions, which are certainly worth a trip down to DUMBO." She takes up her mug and shifts over in eager anticipation of show-and-tell. "You've a knack for making 'out of the ordinary' a high art." "I don't believe in a statute of limitation for the same costume, so long as you put a new spin on it each time. If you ever want to put a twist on a classic, I'd be happy to brainstorm with you," says Marinov. The tip of their retracted claw makes a click against the screen while they swipe through some images, before settling on a croquis of a slender shiny green skinned figure with three arms (formerly four, but the bottom left is amputated). The outfit is based on Maleficent, with alterations for the subject's body type and to help with a dramatic silhouette. "This is the approved design, and I've almost finished up the final touches on the actual costume. She is gonna look gorgeous in it. I swear, if there were any justice in this world, she could be a supermodel." "I do have a certain image to maintain," Desi demures, her smile not very well hidden behind her mug. "Being the most best-dressed witch at every Samhain circle is hard work, and I would love to have your help next year." She studies Marinov's sketch, exhaling a soft "ooh" through pursed lips. "Oh, wow! The drape is lovely--and it suits her very well. You know..." She glances aside at Marinov. "She might be, yet. You will need models, and given the nature of the business, it might not be unreasonable to tap clients who might be interested." "Well, I'll be glad to help you continue in your sacred duty of looking top notch." Marinov's gaze lingers on the image a few moments longer, then they turn the tablet back and start to swipe through images again. "Yeah. I guess the kind of models that are our target demo are not gonna be the same kind that you'd find through like. Standard modelling agencies. I could ask some of my former clients maybe to appear in ad material? I think my fashion sketches are okay, but it's definitely not the same as seeing the outfit actually being worn." They scratch their neck lightly and look over their tablet a bit sheepishly. "I really need to work on getting a head for how to business." "There's a lot about B-Spoke that..." Desi tilts her head slightly. "...isn't standard. And that's good! I think others like you will know that, but you'll need a bigger pool of both designers and clients, and some of those will take convincing. That's really one of the main things Daiki and I want to help you all do." Her smile is small but encouraging. "Your work speaks for itself when it's given a chance to shine." "Yeah, I figure that a tough part is gonna be just. Some people just don't like to draw a lot of extra attention to themselves, and for people like some of our clientele, I understand that impulse." Marinov shrugs, and gestures with a broad sweep, "But there'll be some who I'm sure I can convince. There's been times in my life where I just wanted to fade away as well, but if my work can give people the chance to shine." They shift positions in their seat, leaned forward to put their tablet back on the table. "Then I hope we can make 'em shine as bright as possible."