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Evaluation Interview -- (Story in Description)
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This is the first of the Blood From a Stone stories. I'm changing the comic ideas into a series of story vignettes like the Scratch Chronicles I did. Please note that these stories will contain mentions of gore (these are murder mysteries after all) and will contain profanity along with other adult themes. I will keep it tasteful as possible, but just be aware that stories, such as this one, might not be what you you're used to from me. I think that I've shown enough of the world that nobody should be surprised by this.
Better put, I'm sorry Aember has a potty mouth.
Nathaniel Smith was the lead singer for the Razors, a band Aember had hired to perform three sets on weekends for her club. The other four members were currently drinking their paychecks away at the bar while Smith lingered in her office. She was doing a little thing she called the 'evaluation interview' which was just her little way of sizing up new employees. If they didn't crack under the pressure or give her signs that she shouldn't trust them then she'd keep them on. Otherwise the young coyote would be walking before the month was out.
“So what made you get into music, Nate?” The ermine circled him like a shark, her large tail curled close without touching him, almost caging him in.
He watched her lazily. “I've just always liked to sing. And when singing other people's songs got boring I started writing my own.” He shrugged.
Aember stopped. Her smile faded a fraction. Not two hours ago Nathaniel was on stage howling with a hammering intensity. He had an infectious stage presence, and the audience screamed for more even when he chugged half a bottle of water and spat it out over the churning mobs of people below him. Yet the man she was speaking to was detached and empty. Maybe he saved it all up for the stage. Or maybe the Nathaniel on the stage was just an act and this boring fellow was the real deal.
“Two sets a night,” she finally said. “You play the whole set. You don't stop to take a piss and you don't piss on the stage.” Aember didn't think she needed to state that rule until someone relieved themselves on her speaker system. She almost wished the drunk bastard had electrocuted himself. “If you drink too much to do your job I toss you on your ass. Got it?”
The coyote nodded. “I don't work drunk... or stoned.” He rubbed his nose. “I just want to sing.”
Aember leaned against a wall, she used her hand to smooth her dress against her figure. Her smile vanished from her eyes as she noticed that the coyote's eyes didn't wander down in the slightest. “I cut you a check on Monday. If you want to report your tips you can do that yourself. You have a tab with the bar with a slight discount. You're expected to keep track of how much you drink and if you come out in the red that's your damn problem. Anything else?”
Another bland shrug. “I need an apartment. I'm new in town.”
The ermine huffed to herself. “Vance rents out a few shitholes, he's the fellow that checked your equipment when you set up. They're roach pits near the trainyard. Cheap, and you get exactly what you pay for.”
Nathaniel nodded and turned away, walking out of the office without so much as a goodbye.
The last remnants of the smile faded from Aember's lips as the door closed behind him.
Copic marker and glitterpen om canvasboard. Image is available for sale.
This is the first of the Blood From a Stone stories. I'm changing the comic ideas into a series of story vignettes like the Scratch Chronicles I did. Please note that these stories will contain mentions of gore (these are murder mysteries after all) and will contain profanity along with other adult themes. I will keep it tasteful as possible, but just be aware that stories, such as this one, might not be what you you're used to from me. I think that I've shown enough of the world that nobody should be surprised by this.
Better put, I'm sorry Aember has a potty mouth.
Nathaniel Smith was the lead singer for the Razors, a band Aember had hired to perform three sets on weekends for her club. The other four members were currently drinking their paychecks away at the bar while Smith lingered in her office. She was doing a little thing she called the 'evaluation interview' which was just her little way of sizing up new employees. If they didn't crack under the pressure or give her signs that she shouldn't trust them then she'd keep them on. Otherwise the young coyote would be walking before the month was out.
“So what made you get into music, Nate?” The ermine circled him like a shark, her large tail curled close without touching him, almost caging him in.
He watched her lazily. “I've just always liked to sing. And when singing other people's songs got boring I started writing my own.” He shrugged.
Aember stopped. Her smile faded a fraction. Not two hours ago Nathaniel was on stage howling with a hammering intensity. He had an infectious stage presence, and the audience screamed for more even when he chugged half a bottle of water and spat it out over the churning mobs of people below him. Yet the man she was speaking to was detached and empty. Maybe he saved it all up for the stage. Or maybe the Nathaniel on the stage was just an act and this boring fellow was the real deal.
“Two sets a night,” she finally said. “You play the whole set. You don't stop to take a piss and you don't piss on the stage.” Aember didn't think she needed to state that rule until someone relieved themselves on her speaker system. She almost wished the drunk bastard had electrocuted himself. “If you drink too much to do your job I toss you on your ass. Got it?”
The coyote nodded. “I don't work drunk... or stoned.” He rubbed his nose. “I just want to sing.”
Aember leaned against a wall, she used her hand to smooth her dress against her figure. Her smile vanished from her eyes as she noticed that the coyote's eyes didn't wander down in the slightest. “I cut you a check on Monday. If you want to report your tips you can do that yourself. You have a tab with the bar with a slight discount. You're expected to keep track of how much you drink and if you come out in the red that's your damn problem. Anything else?”
Another bland shrug. “I need an apartment. I'm new in town.”
The ermine huffed to herself. “Vance rents out a few shitholes, he's the fellow that checked your equipment when you set up. They're roach pits near the trainyard. Cheap, and you get exactly what you pay for.”
Nathaniel nodded and turned away, walking out of the office without so much as a goodbye.
The last remnants of the smile faded from Aember's lips as the door closed behind him.
Copic marker and glitterpen om canvasboard. Image is available for sale.
Category Artwork (Traditional) / General Furry Art
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 755 x 500px
File Size 389.8 kB
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