you're the right kind of sinner {closed}
WHO: Quatre Raberba Winner jordanian_jem, Aerith Gainsborough radiantsonnet, Trowa Barton onbitchdetail
WHAT: tail end of Quatre's act, then down to some business
WHERE: The Circus
WHEN: approximately 2 am
"FIRE AWAY!" Quatre was lip-syncing. Most of the acts were entirely lip synced, of course. He walked the length of the stage, struck a final pose, and then went to his knees for emphasis. He looked up, smiled, and tossed his hair over his shoulder with a sweep.
"Ladies and gents, that was Katrina Fayez, the Jordanian Jem! That's all we have for you at the Circus's Saturday night drag show, remember-" The DJ started his whole rundown, but by this time Quatre had collected the last of his tips and moved backstage. He didn't bother stripping down and putting on street clothes. Most of the time he would move out into the bar as is, anyway, but especially tonight- he had a client tonight.
He'd spotted the girl during his second act. She looked pretty out of place. Working here this long, he could spot outsiders and newbies pretty easily. She was definitely one; but he'd worked with her before. She called herself Solana, but he had enough on her to know that wasn't her real name. Then again, who was he to call the kettle black; he would never call her on her name (unless he was forced to, and he couldn't come up with a reason why he might be forced to) but he had done more digging to come up with who she really was. All that he had been able to dig up thus far was that she was tied to one of the prestigious families: Monacello. What she was now doing running a private investigation business... Quatre wasn't sure. He intended to find out. Eventually.
For now, however, he moved out of the little backstage area, swung by the bar for his ritualistic glass of water to refresh himself, before he moved towards the little table off to the left side where he'd spotted 'Solana' earlier. His heels clicked and his ass swung back and forth as he walked. Why men had never taken to heels, he would never know; there was a great deal of power to be had in them.
He scanned the room looking for his boyfriend. Trowa was probably dealing with the DJ or guests wanting refills, but he'd hoped Trowa would at least give him an encouraging smirk from across the room before this meeting. Not seeing him, though, he slid into the seat across from the girl, smiled, and inclined his head.
"Glad to see you made it, Solana." There was little power to be had in false names, he'd learned long ago.
WHAT: tail end of Quatre's act, then down to some business
WHERE: The Circus
WHEN: approximately 2 am
"FIRE AWAY!" Quatre was lip-syncing. Most of the acts were entirely lip synced, of course. He walked the length of the stage, struck a final pose, and then went to his knees for emphasis. He looked up, smiled, and tossed his hair over his shoulder with a sweep.
"Ladies and gents, that was Katrina Fayez, the Jordanian Jem! That's all we have for you at the Circus's Saturday night drag show, remember-" The DJ started his whole rundown, but by this time Quatre had collected the last of his tips and moved backstage. He didn't bother stripping down and putting on street clothes. Most of the time he would move out into the bar as is, anyway, but especially tonight- he had a client tonight.
He'd spotted the girl during his second act. She looked pretty out of place. Working here this long, he could spot outsiders and newbies pretty easily. She was definitely one; but he'd worked with her before. She called herself Solana, but he had enough on her to know that wasn't her real name. Then again, who was he to call the kettle black; he would never call her on her name (unless he was forced to, and he couldn't come up with a reason why he might be forced to) but he had done more digging to come up with who she really was. All that he had been able to dig up thus far was that she was tied to one of the prestigious families: Monacello. What she was now doing running a private investigation business... Quatre wasn't sure. He intended to find out. Eventually.
For now, however, he moved out of the little backstage area, swung by the bar for his ritualistic glass of water to refresh himself, before he moved towards the little table off to the left side where he'd spotted 'Solana' earlier. His heels clicked and his ass swung back and forth as he walked. Why men had never taken to heels, he would never know; there was a great deal of power to be had in them.
He scanned the room looking for his boyfriend. Trowa was probably dealing with the DJ or guests wanting refills, but he'd hoped Trowa would at least give him an encouraging smirk from across the room before this meeting. Not seeing him, though, he slid into the seat across from the girl, smiled, and inclined his head.
"Glad to see you made it, Solana." There was little power to be had in false names, he'd learned long ago.