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Dite's Decadent Delights | Wednesday

Of course by most people's standards, it wasn't really Christmas yet, which was why Irene was still proudly leaving out her apparently-shocking Thanksgiving display out in the front of the store.

But she was also ready to welcome Christmas with open arms, and thus had already put up a little tree a bit deeper into the store, which she was decorating with tasteful-ish laser-cut wooden ornaments.

What did you expect, really? Probably better than a tree covered in dildos or something.

[open, flying OCD-free because I'm already exhausted by this week and it's not even really half over. all links are, of course, NSFW.]

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Well, would you look at that. Amaya was finally making good on her word to pop into Irene's shop someday, and all it took was for the latter to get her fancy hands on one of her weapons.

~~not dirty~~

"Irene," Amaya greeted her with a stout nod and a very valiant attempt to keep her eyes looking anywhere but all around the shop, an attempt that was failing spectacularly, so she just cleared her throat and acknowledged, "Getting all set up for the holidays, I see."

She should probably get on that herself.

Of course, for her, that mostly just meant having plenty of flamethrowers on hand for the mistletoe, but...

That might just inspire people to bring their own, non-sentient mistletoe around, you know.

"Amaya!" Don't look at the gingerbread people in Irene's hand, Amaya. They were filthy. "Well, you know, retail holidays start a bit earlier than the real ones. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

She suspected it might have something to do with the absolutely beautiful mace she still had upstairs, which had mysteriously ceased to be inflatable on Monday.

Good thing the non-sentient kind burned just as well, then! And with the added benefit of not feeling even a little bad about it!

Also, Amaya knew that, by entering this shop, she was wandering into a whole new realm beyond her reasoning, but, really, now. Copulating cookies? She was no expert in the kitchen, sure, but even she knew enough to know that that was not how baking worked!

Although she was suddenly getting a whole new perspective on when Wente Fey back home put so much emphasis on baking with love---

Right. Nope! Not even going there! You were a woman on a mission, Amaya, let's try to maybe focus on the goal at hand!

"Well, Irene," eyes steady on the person she was talking to now, but, let's be honest, it wasn't that much of a help, "you see, I'm generally not in the business of selling weapons to children without at least a little bit of follow-up."

And maybe the hope for not so big of a loss on her errant generosity with such things, as well.

Unless it was trick mistletoe! Which surely existed somewhere!

"You were quite good with me," Irene noted, smiling over at Amaya. "And my nine year-old self had a fantastic time running around bopping things with my mace -- which is safe and sound upstairs and ready to be returned unless you're willing to let me keep it."

Not that Irene much knew how to properly wield a mace but -- gosh, if only there was someone she could ask!

"For a touch more than twenty quid -- I know I made out like a little bandit, there."

Amaya's own smile went a little sheepish, with no small amount of awkward blushing, but she stayed the course by not letting it get the best of her.

"Well," she reasoned, like she may have done more than a few times since Saturday when she realized there wasn't a whole lot of reason in the whole ordeal at all, "I couldn't just squash that kind of healthy enthusiasm for bludgeoning right as it was starting to bloom, now, could I? And I had a feeling wee little Irene wasn't exactly running around with ~~handwavey price range that may or may not include a first born child~~ around in her purse."

Could be wrong, though! It wasn't as if she'd be terribly surprised if that were the case. But better safe than sorry!

Especially when safe necessitated such a nice, convenient excuse--erm, reason to follow-up!

Irene was just never going to not find that blushing to be cute, and she wasn't especially trying to hide that fact, either.

"You may be shocked to hear this," Irene told her, "but not many adults in my young life actually encouraged the bludgeoning impulses, which is more the pity since I ultimately went into it professionally."

Well, maybe not bludgeoning. Not unless they asked nicely and paid for it.

"But no, I wasn't quite carrying that much over the weekend," she added with a little self-deprecating tsk. "Good thinking." It was honestly kind of amazing she'd had nearly-obsolete currency in her purse -- or a purse to begin with at all, but little Irene had been Irene from the start in that respect, at least.

Amaya's mouth may have opened slightly on the brink of a question regarding all this bludgeoning business, but she appeared to have thought better of it before it managed to make its way out, although thinking better of it would still do nothing to satiate the curiosity that would now...linger.

"I think the world would be a more interesting place," she of the doling out of knives to fake future children said instead, "if more people were encouraged in their bludgeoning impulses at a young age. Not to mention that it's naturally just better for business overall."

Both their businesses, really!

But...speaking of business...

"If you are interested in maybe keeping it after all, though," she said, terribly proud of herself for the measured and professional tone, "I think we might be able to work something out. After all, likd I told Dwight yesterday, 'bargaining' is one of my favorite words."

"I mean," Irene said thoughtfully, placing her little gingerbread people on the tree so she could emphasize that thoughtfulness with a tap to her chin, "with the understanding that I would be more than happy to pay full price as I think your craftsmanship is more than worth it --"

Flatter, flatter, flatter.

"-- what kind of a bargain are we talking? Can I, for example, negotiate downwards if I also ask if you might be available for a drink sometime?"

Subtlety, thy name was Adler.

Well, when dealing with someone like Amaya Blackstone, the subtly of a mace itself was sometimes just required.

Especially when, there she was, mildly basking in the single emotion she had any kind of healthy relationship with, her pride, at all that praise, and then...

Well, talk about a bludgeoning alright! Look, here she was just trying to make sure it didn't seem like she was entrapping people into buying weapons they might not want by putting bargaining on the table, and now?

"Erm," she said, and blinked, and was much more aware of that blushing now, despite reasoning with herself that alcohol was and always had been a perfectly reasonable bargaining chip.

"Well, I've never been one to turn down a drink."

Which was just a cold, hard, solid fact, and nothing more!

And considering the weapon in negotiation...

"Or several," she added. For good measure.

"Well, when the company's good, why stop at one?" Irene said agreeably, her mouth curving in a somewhat triumphant smile. Just look at all that blushing. Adorable. She did so love being able to tell when she was effective. "It's a date, then."

Oh, did anyone here think Irene would have any compunction about calling a spade a spade, there? There would be no dancing around the terminology here, thank you.

"You can educate me on the finer points of mace...making," she added, because she was genuinely interested (and because her work was obviously something Amaya enjoyed talking about.)

Oh, no dancing around terms, eh? Sure, Amaya didn't exactly bring her dancing shoes (especially when she had none), but this was a woman about on the verge of setting an optometrist appointment on the behalf of a chronic winker, she felt she had an obligation to at least get on the floor for that.

Continuing to blatantly ignore any suggestion that her face might be permanently dying itself a rather fetching shane of crimson, Amaya agreed with a firm nod and kept that chin lifted high in defiance afterwards. "That'll be just the thing," she said. "It's important to know about a weapon if you're going to have one, and prices are always best negotiated over a good business date, anyway."

Ha! Got'em. You couldn't argue with an emphasis like that!

"I do so love a business date." Irene didn't wink, but she might as well have based on that tone. (Plus she genuinely did love both business and dates and also had spent a fair amount of time going on business dates, back in her professional-bludgeoning days!) "And I'm not too proud to admit that I've never exactly wielded a mace before, either. Might need some instruction on how to use it."

Perfectly innocent instruction where Irene would certainly never ask Amaya for points on form or try to touch anyone casually or anything like that, ever!

And this was Amaya, very dedicatedly and firmly deciding that any other emphasis put onto the words to make it sound like maybe something else entirely that brought anything even resembling winks, verbal or otherwise!, was clearly just on account of that very nice posh accent that Irene had on her and nothing more.

"Well, I always warn people," she then stated, "I'm an expert in making weapons, not so much in using them, but I think I can offer at least a few tips and tricks about it if the most experience you've got with a mace happened over the weekend with an inflatable one."

Which had nothing to do at all with any incredibly pleasing figures one might cut when wielding such weapons, of course.

"You might be surprised to find," Amaya managed a grin, "it hits just a bit different."

It was a very posh accent! Misleadingly posh sometimes, even if not intentionally so at present.

"Just a smidge, I'd think," Irene agreed with a bright smile of her own. "Probably a little less of a good idea to go about bopping my friends with it."

Little Irene had rather wished for her play-mace at the duck pond when Dwight was being so know-it-all-ish (adorable) about frogs; adult Irene was rather glad that that impulse had been curbed by the mace's absence, at least.

"I'm used to bendier things," she added easily, though without elaboration because she did want to go on this business date with Amaya before she actually made the other woman combust or something. Though she did mime what she meant with a flick of her wrist, indicating use of a lighter, one-handed sort of weapon. "On the occasions I've used a blunt object, anyway."

More of a projectiles kind of girl, when she wasn't just playing with her victims.

As a woman who'd made weapons her life, it didn't much for Amaya to get a vague idea of what that flick of a gesture might entail, and yet, she also had the distinct impression that something was being lost in translation, and it felt like the sort of something she was going to regret dwelling on later.

"Well," she said stolidly, in an effort to not dwell too much on it now, "you work with works. But I've got a feeling you'll be plenty satisfied with this one in your arsenal as well, especially once you get more familiar with handling it."

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Dite's Decadent Delights | Wednesday

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