log ✫ this is jezebel in hell.
Hasi has only worked at Alkahest for a week, and already trouble seems to have followed her to London. This time, to her knowledge, which is not totally limited, given her special witchlike talents, at least it's got nothing to do with her specifically, and she's not the sort of self-centered type to think it is. Still- she's a little rueful about the rumors of a tragedy, having heard whispers already about the police detectives circulating the club, interviewing people. Apparently one of them is cute, which does an awful lot to prompt gossip around there all on its own -- sometimes they do have cops come in, certainly, but generally they're off-duty ones, and their patrons' business is not really frequently discussed when it's something heavy; they come to Alkahest to watch a good show and escape, not talk about the dismal side of the world.
She wonders what it's all about- it sounds serious. Eventually she'll find out, though, and for now the show must go on, so Hasibe (known here as Norea Serhati, which is wise in case anyone googles her, and because her real surname is incomprehensible to a surprising number of non-Kurdish or Turkish people) continues with fixing her hair in the mirror.
Outside down by the floor, a tiny blonde named Bethany - kitted out in a schoolgirl's kilt, vinyl boots with six inch heels, cotton candy pink lipstick, and a healthy dosage of body glitter - is shrugging sympathetically. It's only late afternoon, sunlight filtering through the windows around the performance floor, and the crowds haven't meandered in yet, which means the place is largely empty but for the workers bustling about preparing for another busy night; downstairs, visible beyond the balcony ledge overlooking the main floor, Alkahest's daytime restaurant is more well-populated, but that's not where most of the information is, either. The top two levels are where the interesting things happen.
"I don't know, we don't usually socialize all that much unless they, you know, are the high roller types." Alkahest is not, you see, a strip club, but it still likes money and it still advertises having some of the best-looking performers in a very big town, so sometimes platonic company is arranged. Bethany doesn't say that, though- she's not shy and she's the kind of fluttery, giggly, manic creature that tends to succeed in establishments like these, fearlessly social and not too deep, but she's not a braggart. "Oh, our new girl saw them, though, I remember she was at their table a bit- Norea. I can show you to her dressing room! Leads all get their own."