A Taste of Ambrosia Solo Career

Chauncey Darling, owner of the wizarding nightclub chain Ambrosia (and its more exclusive cabaret extension, Rapture), was a man of vision. He knew what he wanted- when he wanted it- and how to draft the plans he needed in order to get his desired results. Being a self-made business owner came with its own roadblocks to plow through and hurdles to jump over- as all high positions of management did- but he always aimed to be pertinacious with his goals. It was his most admirable trait, and a highly desired one for a leader in the entertainment industry; but, he was not without his... less than desirable faults.

Being so headstrong and outspoken meant Chauncey was also incredibly easy to frustrate when things did not go according to his plans. And rarely did things ever go according to his plans. Alas, that was the tradeoff for success as an entrepreneur; or, in the term he preferred most: visionary. You had to bleed a little to get a little. Results did not come without a few callouses to show for them.

Chauncey had callouses aplenty on his well-manicured hands. They were badges of his great business feats and resilience, and had earned him the right to a more luxurious life. But that only meant he was hardened by attempted past defeats; not immune to the injury future ones threatened. His hands, soft as they were, still peeled when made to push stones uphill; his newest boulder was turning his palms raw, but he persisted with its movement through gritted teeth. "Get in contact with our people in Hogsmeade, pronto. I'm still interested in expanding to that area." A muffled conversation behind an ornate office door was the only glimpse anyone would get at the Sisyphean effort, that was not told through some variant of haughty exasperation.

It was during these pawing, desperate times, a voice of reason was most hated. "The village heads are going to say the same thing they've been telling us for the last six months." Right now, Cybil Valentino- long-time dutiful assistant and ever the Sensible Susan- was the last thing a visionary wanted to hear. "Hogsmeade village is not suited for 'yobbish tourist spots'." The woman regurgitated, the flaccidity of her tone indicating her words were not rehearsed; rather reinforced. The choice phrase had been one recycled since the beginning of Chauncey's futile venture in hamlet expansion, and had been heard more times that one cared to count.

Xailah, by this time, had made her way past the heart of the club to Chauncey's office door (which wasn't the least bit quieter than the rest of the discotheque, given the rejection he had been dealt) where she had been directed to wait, by a bouncer. She'd make it there just in time to hear the tail end of the discourse Chauncey was willingly dragging himself through by his nails.

"For Christ's sake, Cybil, I'm not trying to open a titty bar in the town square; Ambrosia is a clean establishment!" The thick wood dividing the man from the club, muffled some of the frustration in his tone. Some. Most still bled through the pores in the dark cherry. As unappealing as a modern magical nightclub planted on Hogsmeade's front doorstep did sound, Chauncey had to be given some credit: it was a very classy business, given what it was.

One had to wonder how many times this exact conversation must have taken place. Too many, perhaps, given Cybil's readiness with an answer. "It isn't a family establishment. You know the types in Hogsmeade: quiet, heads-down traditionalists. Your club would have half their senior citizen population writhing on the floor. And I highly doubt anyone wants to see that giant, glowing sign out front while they're having a couple pints at the Three Broomsticks." She pushed back sternly, in hopes that it would finally put an end to the topic entirely.

"Well, we can get a new sign if it's really such a bother." The eyerolls from both manager and assistant could practically be heard.

"Fine- fine. I will talk to them one last time, but understand this is the final time I do so. There are better places than Hogsmeade to expand, they are only wasting our time at this point."

Xailah drew some distance from the office once shuffling could be heard at the door. With a click and heavy creak, Cybil shuffled out with a stack of papers balanced in her arms. "I appreciate you, Billie." Chauncey called, as the stout woman sent him a terse look over the sharp wings of her cat-eye glasses. She wouldn't notice Xailah waiting off to the side, allowing the metamorph ample time to slip into the office without detection as the woman was leaving.

Chauncey had turned his back to the door by then, his face buried in his hands as he let out a strained breath. It took the soft clearing of a throat to get his attention, making him turn to the door with a sharp jump. "Jesus!" The man exclaimed, eyes wide. "Girl- you can't go creeping around like that, you're going to send someone St. Mungos!" As if to emphasize his point, he'd clasp at his heart through his shirt and slump over his desk dramatically. "And by 'someone', I mean me. I'm getting too old for this kind of bullshit." He sighed wearily.

Xailah only observed the dramatics in silence, her hands folded neatly into a resting position at her front.

"Do you need something?" Chauncey prompted as he recollected himself.

"I am your new hire." Xailah announced, watching the dots begin to connect.

"Oh. Oh!" Suddenly, she was being ushered out of the office. "What are you doing in here?! You're on the floor in fifteen!" Chauncey took a glance at the watch on his wrist, confirming the estimate. Always timely, this one. Every minute was a galleon made; no one could afford to waste time in this industry. "There's a costume ready for you in the dancer's locker room and the stage is already set up. You need to be quick. We'll talk later. Go- go!"

Talented as Chauncey was in management, he realistically could not be on top of everything. As much as he would have liked to have a finger on all pulses in his business, a man only had so many hands. In an industry always moving, all one could do was run with it- or succumb to the current and get swept under. Seeing as he was the primary floating device for Ambrosia, he couldn't risk letting the current take him and lose his entire life's work.

Needless to say, getting tossed right into the deep end was not the kindest job introduction for any new hire. For anyone with prior experience in such a demanding field, it would have been a sign to rethink the work. To those desensitized to the trials, it was simply one of many hazing rituals a newcomer was to eventually face. It was better to get it out of the way as soon as possible, than wait until one was settled in and comfortable.

Chauncey reasoned that if Xailah could endure such a disjointed initiation (unintentional as it was), then she could handle any future problems Ambrosia had to throw at its staff.

"Sorry you aren't getting a proper tour of the place, or a chance to- you know- get a rundown of anything, but I suppose we can do that after your number." A firm hand- one that she subtly yanked away from- fumbled the metamorph through a door leading to a spacious locker room. "This is a busy season for us, no one has had a chance to breathe." And it looked like Xailah wouldn't be any different, either. "Miss Ambrosia does not wait for anyone, I had to figure that out the hard way when I first got into the club scene. It is brutal in here!" The laugh Chauncey gave was tight, clearly harboring some of the weight of his earlier frustrations.

Xailah took the indoctrination as she did with all things in life that approached with force: by grabbing it by the horns. As her first official foray into the corporate job world, the last thing she wanted was this perfect opportunity to fall flat. So she kept close, and listened far closer, gathering as much information as she could before getting passed to another set of hands, a costume, and then finally, through a curtain.

It was unconventional, bordering unnatural: the rush, the setting, the job itself- the people who looked onward at the raised platforms just out of reach as Xailah was led onto one. It was a welcome challenge.