Dragon

Land of Karchan

Job Interview


10th of March

Summary

Olwen comes for a job interview at the Tax Collector's. Unfortunately for her, Gable and Sloane have never conducted an interview before.

Contains Bad Language

The Roleplay

Gable is babysitting the office, Tom the usual man who is front of house of the fake business had been sent home after a little issue. There had been a rather peculiar vibe in Tiassale as of late, things not quite as they were and one of these things had happened this morn, Tom had been involved in a bust up with a local businessman that had started painting insults on the exterior of the building. It had mostly been scrubbed off by now but it meant the younger brother of the deceased Jeremy had to stay here. A meal from the local cafe in front of him, a book in his hand that he reads between bites, the cover bright yellow and black with the title emblazoned on it 'Interviewing for Dummies.'

Olwen sidles on up to the Tax Collector's office, positive that this is what Gable had posted on the public board when asking for her to drop in. The pixie of a woman pushes the door open, rapping her gloved knuckles on the frame with a peer about the place. "'Ello? I'm a comin' in an..." She grins in Gable's direction, "Well 'owdy. Name's Olwen. I've come seekin' tha' interview I saw posted up." All four foot and some change of her walks up to Gable, a sword as big as she is strapped to her person. She holds out a gloved hand for him, "Put her there. Are ya the fella who left me tha' note?"

Gable was half way through the process of popping a chunk of roast potato in his mouth when the bell of the rings and the petite woman announces herself. Perhaps if it had been a forkful of cauliflower or cabbage it would have been set down but roast potato ranks a higher priority than politeness so after a brief pause, he continued to eat it. Fork and booth both set down, brushing his hands against his the denim of his pants as he rises up, chewing as he shakes the hand, an apologetic tilt of his head while is jaw moves before it swallows "Uh huh, I am Gable, Gabe for short." Because losing one single letter saves so much time somehow. A quick glance to the door to see if a purple haired club manager was on her way but alas, no. "Sloane isn't here right now so we can't do an interview right at this moment but perhaps you can just tell me a little about yourself just to start." A hand motions to the seat on the client's side of the desk "Take a seat, you want a drink?....or a roast potato?" Though beware Olwen, take a man's food and the job would never be her's.

Olwen smirks at Gable's antics, because she too wouldn't put down a good potato in trade for speaking to someone. "I like ya already, Gabe." She nods, "Although, I do wonder 'ow cuttin' off the L makes it much shorter." Cue a shrug, "Ah well, it's yer name." The petite woman pulls herself into the chair, shucking her sword so she can sit more comfortably. "Nah, thanks. I done had mah meal fer the time bein'." A little hand pats her belly. "I guess we can be gettin' to know one another, eh?" Pause. "Name's Olwen as I said. I'm in mah twenties. I know I don' look like much of'a fighter, nor very intimidatin'. But I do assure ya, I'm quite lethal. Once took down a'Orc in the Southlands with these thighs." One hand pats a thigh, "I got magic on mah side too, so tha' helps. I'm from up North abouts. An' I like cats a bit. Pesky Divas, but I thin' they're cute."

Gable eases himself back down into his chair once the lady is sat though raised voices in the street grab his attention, eyes darting to the window but nothing to be seen, only heard, another public argument. A soft sigh leaves him and a roll of his eyes but he pushes his book aside, plate tugged a little closer to him with the intent to continue eating during the conversation. There is a definite smirk on his lips at a few words he hears and he can't help but quip "Women's thighs often have a way of bringing men down, nothing unusual in that. But anyway, that tells me a little about what you have done but what about personality wise? You a quiet lass, argumentative opinionated person? Girlie girl who likes to think about flowers? Where on the moral and ethical spectrum do you lie as well?"

Sloane appears.

Olwen smirks wryly when Gable asks if she's quiet, "Oh heck no. Not a quiet one here. I'm a bit'o a blabber mouth, I s'pose. Though not so much tha' it keeps me in trouble. I know when to keep me trap shut." She huffs a laugh, kicking her feet back and forth lightly, short enough to pull that off as she looked like a kid in the chair. "I'm not much of'a softie, no. I guess I like girly thin's some, but not much...moral an' ethical. Tha' depends. I've done a few shady jobs in the past, so I ain' a saint. I know righ' from wrong, but tha' can always be adjusted fer the job type."

Sloane had been at the club. All freaking night. So to say she's in a cheery mood would be the understatement of the decade. There had been a big cat fight completely with hair pulling and nail scratches and it had taken quite a while to settle things down without getting the authorities involved--you know how drunk women can get. So uncaringly, Sloane slams open the door in a huff, a cigarette hanging out of the corner of her mouth. Heels are immediately kicked off and she starts her rant as she bends down to scoop them up. "I don't want to hear about the smoking Tom. I am in no fucking m--" she cuts off her speech as she straightens, spying not Tom but Gabe sitting behind the desk and a petite woman opposite him. "What's this?" She asks, looking from one to the other.

Gable winces a little as the little lady admits to having a mouth that could be loose, that would need checking more later but for now he says "We have to deal with sensitive information here as tax collector's Olwen." However with her moral compass seeming to point more to gold than to good, that might be something they work with. Yet before he can ask anymore, the sunshine that is Sloane arrives to bless them in her beautiful mood. An easy smirk and a quiet chuckle "Alright?Your stressed frown is the most beautiful thing I have seen in the whole of...the last three minutes." A nod to Olwen "This is the woman we are interviewing." and then to the blonde "And this little sunshine bunny is Sloane."

Olwen nods to Gable, "I tol' ya I know when to keep mah trap shut, so I won' be goin' a spoutin' off sensitive information to everyone an' their mother." She laughs some, though the jovial nature of her face turns more serious at Sloane's arrival. "Well 'owdy, Sloane. I hope everythin's goin' okay there. Ya look a little frazzled." She smiles some, "It's good to meet ya." The woman might look quite petite, but she packs a whallop.

Sloane simply scowls at Gable's "compliment and rolls her eyes. "Well don't you know how to make a girl feel special," she says sarcastically. Slim audibly scoffs at Gabe's new nickname for her and it does nothing to improve her sour mood. Still she moves over and leans on the corner of the desk and extends her hand to Olwen. "Nice to meet you. And I'm fine, just a long night at my other job." Sloane looks sideways at Gabe's plate and, should there be any potatoes left she'd snag one. "Girlfriend privileges," she informs Olwen with a wink. She wasn't, of course, but she was starving. Plus she already had a job.

Gable audibly grumbles as Sloane steals his precious roast potatoes, mentally planning on seeing if he could smother her in her sleep, not that he knows where she lives or slipping arsenic into her drink. Still these little murderous thoughts are kept in his mind as he snags the last potato before it could be stolen, standing up, moving over to the sideboard to pour a brandy and another chair, glass slid over the desk and chair joining the one he had occupied. "Drink up, shut up, sit, smile and let's interview the poor girl." Then back to Olwen "Let her get some booze down her and the human part of her will show. Anyway, I will start off huh?" Now a particular question in the book he had been reading earlier amused him so this is what he starts off with, a notebook pushed Sloane's way so the purple haired grump can take notes "So this is to see your thought process, how resourceful you are so please explain your reasons behind your decisions. Now, say you have to spend all night locked in a room, square, four walls, floor, ceiling, no window, door is locked and unopenable or destroyable. Magic does not work in the room. It is sub zero temperatures and you are going to freeze to death. Your clothes are not enough to protect you. In the room there is only a potato sack, a table, a spoon and a feather. Explain how are you going to survive the night."

Olwen smiles toward Sloane, nodding her understanding. "I guess anyone'd be a bit frazzled with havin' two jobs. Yeh mus' be a strong woman." And the fact that she and Gable seemed close was rather admirable. A smirk paints her face at the thieving of potatoes, Gable's comment on booze, and even their bickering. However, with his question, the tiny woman blinks at him. "Are ya effin' serious, son? Wha' kinna question is tha'?" She appears puzzled, "Is it guaranteed tha' someone is goin' ta come an' let me out in the mornin'?" A smirk quirks the corner of her lip upward, "I mean, normally I'd jus' blow the damnable thin' up an walk out. However, I can' use magic...so I guess tha's outta the question, ain' it?" The tiny woman hmms, "I guess I'd be checkin' the door jus' to make sure," cue a nod, "How's a potato sack supposed'ta keep me warm? Or a feather? I could be whittlin' down that spoon to make myself a lock pick." Pause. "Me min' tells me there's gotta be a reason why this room is subzero, cause magic ain' workin'. Therefore, there's gotta be a way the air is a gettin' in there. There's some sorta vent in the room, eh? If I wrap up in the potato sack, push the table up, an climb on out through it, I should be peachy, eh?" He never did mention if there was a vent, or not, right? "Then I ain' gotta sit aroun' waitin' fer no one ta save me."

Sloane munches on her singular potato as those dark eyes trail Gabe's movements. Her pupils flare at his commands but she bites her tongue, flopping in the chair and catching the glass of brandy slid her way. "Yes sir ," comes her reply before she shoots down the amber liquor. Sloane looks down at the notebook and nods her head as if she new the point of this bizarre question. However, she looks up expectantly at Olwen and listens to her reasoning. Slim is impressed with the answer but her face remains an impassive mask. When the petite woman finishes Sloane grins. "Go in the corner," she eventually says. "It's always ninety degrees." Chuckling she rolls her tongue along her teeth before asking another question. "Why, would you say, are manhole covers round?"

Gable clasps his hands in front of him, resting them upon the old antique desk, leaning forward slightly and nodding intently, quite serious in his question and listening to Olwen intently. In truth it is an awful question that no one probably ever could answer but the answers people gave certainly could tell a lot about them. So as Sloane explains the answer to the trick question, he breaks his serious intent expression and adds "And you had to stay all night in the room so leaving wasn't particularly an option." Yet he leans back in the chair, swiping at the drink he got for Sloane and taking a sip of it as well as he waits for the little woman to answer the new one.

Olwen stares at Sloane with disbelief on her face, then turns to Gable before pinching the bridge of her nose. "Are ya serious? This is effin' ridiculous? Wha' in the world does this 'ave to do with gettin' a job to box someone's ear, eh? Are ya tryin' ta get me ta lose my cool an' box yours?" She blinks to Sloane, "I guess so they can be coverin' a roun' hole, eh? Because a square certainly ain' gonna fit. But I got a feelin' this is a trick question too, hm?"

Sloane arches her brows and turns to look at Gable, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Be careful she wants to box your ears." Turning back to Olwen she merely shrugs. "I dunno. I was just curious about it." Sloane's fingers twitch and she reaches out to try and snag her drink back.

Gable reaches over to the notebook in front of Sloane, the pen taken hostage too and they are tugged over in front of him as he writes two single words 'easily frustrated' and a question mark next to it, something they might have to work on if Olwen is a contender to join them. Though he glances up at the woman and then across to Sloane as she claims pure curiosity "Any other shape would have the ability to fall into the hole, like square, rectangle, triangle ones, if at an angle...diagonally etcetera, could fall in. Circle ones are the only ones who can't. On the plus side, also easier as no aligning needed." Of course as he is now the note taker and the drink is lost but he prods at Sloane's side with the pencil "Feeling a bit more human now huh?" Leaning back in his chair, the notebook coming with him to be angled so what he writes would be unable to be seen as he moves to a question that is more typical of a job interview "So Olwen, tell me about a time you have worked in a team? Also a scenario to answer too, if you were in a team and there was a rather hostile grumpy woman who didn't work well with women and was a bit of a bitch to you, how would you try to overcome and deal with that situation?" Here is looking at you Sloane.

Olwen peers at both Sloane and Gable with that same irritation written on her face, brow furrowing in the agitation of these ridiculous questions. "Are we playin' polygon games 'ere or havin' an interview?" She does manage to capture his little question mark with a wrinkle of her nose. The little woman crosses both arms beneath her chest, "I worked on a team in th'Southlands. Bunch'o other mercenaries negotiatin' with orcs. 'Bout broke his damn neck wit' my thighs, like I tol' ya. I ain' got qualms wit' workin' on teams, but if someone is gon' be a bitch to me, I guess I'll box 'er fuckin' ears. Deal with it the ol' fashion way, hm? A good li'l tussle. Usually helps people work out their differences." She was basically a cute shape with rage bottled within. That's her secret Captain, she's always angry.

Sloane peers down at the scribbled note that he writes, thankful to have her drink back. She bends slightly as he prods her side and smirks despite herself because he make have managed to find a ticklish spot. "Yes, much better." Although at Gabe's scenario she looks sideways at him with a slightly narrowed gaze before turning back to Olwen. "It's strictly a hypothetical question, of course." Still her answer has Sloane giving Gabe another significant look.

Gable looks to Sloane as Olwen answers, trying to read whether that would be suitable answer or not, after all it is the two ladies would need to figure it out. Perhaps that is something the two fake tax collector's would have to discuss post interview. "Last question from me now Olwen, Sloane might have more for you though. Sell yourself in sixty seconds, tell us why you would be an asset for the team. Obviously you have told us a bit about you so I wouldn't rehash that and waste time but tell us new things." He lifts his wrist, eyes on the watch strapped upon it it as he slowly says "And.....start.....now!"

Olwen smirks to Sloane, winking in her direction. Gable's insistence that she sell herself in sixty seconds leaves the woman drawing in a breath, preparing herself for such a task. "Hire me or I'll box yer ears." She grins, "Jus' jokin'. I'm resourceful, reliable, smart, a little explosive but I'm workin' on it. Hm...I'm able to fit into small spaces an' even use tha' to my advantage on sneakin' in. I'm glad ya switched thin's up, because riddles are jus' silly. If ya don' hire me, yer missin' out on a valuable asset."

Sloane listens quietly to Olwen's answers, resting the arches of her feet on the edge of the desk and tenting her knees. She snatches the notebook and pen from Gabe and writes. "Small space benefit" before passing it back to him. "Well I don't have any more questions for you, Olwen. So unless Gable has anything else I think that might be it."

Gable had been in the middle of drawing a childish phallic doodle when the notebook is stolen from him, not making notes at all about her last answer. A lift of his brows and glance to Sloane but there is amusement in his smirk. Now with the interview over and Gabe relieved he had survived it (though how poor Olwen had was anyone's guess.), he nods and simply says "That is it from me. So Sloane and I need time to discuss to see if you get to the next stage of the application, field test...tests would be next. So if you give us a few days and we will let you know if you have got to that stage." The chestnut haired man gives himself a mental pat on the back for what he perceives to be his professionalism on that and the notebook is set down, ready to stand but not just yet "Anything you wanted to ask Olwen?"

Olwen nods to both Sloane and Gable, "Well thanks fer havin' me." She slides out of the chair and hits the floor, replacing her sword on to her back with a peer at Gable's notebook. "I guess yeh'll get back to me on the board? 'Less yer into sending doves'r somethin'?" A beat, "Also, don' be askin' such ridiculous questions to the next lot, eh. An' don' draw dicks while I'm talkin' to ya. Makes ya look less professional. Are ya in grade school, lad?"

Sloane likewise stands and smirks down at Gable. She thought about making some snide comment but thinks better of it. "We'll let you know in the board. Thanks for coming in." Then, unless there were any other interactions between Gabe and Olwen, Sloane would open the door to see the petite woman out.

Gable is tempted to blame Sloane for the doodle but it seems that route would be unsuccessful. So as he rises, he gives a farewell nod to the potential highwayman....highwaywoman? Highwayperson to be. Though he can't resist muttering "Perhaps Jer was right about having mostly men. The snark from women....I am going to go grey before my time." However, a drink of his own is in order, so back to the cabinet he goes just for that.

Olwen steps to the door when Sloane moves to see her out, nodding to both her and Gable. "Thanks fer the interest. I know I'm a bit'o a firecracker, but I'm workin' on it." Then his comment about women has her rolling her eyes, "Goodnight." She's off.

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Last modified on March 12, 2017, 08:46:41