this beauty feels like ugliness...

[your_host]

And... they're goneWell, two of them, at least. For now. The rest of my boys and girls will be back shortly, after saying their goodbyes and seeing the train off. They will be back to fill this emptiness as best they can

Comments

[hot_lil_fingers]

*Having stayed up listening to the mating ritual of a rare pair of Yankee lovebirds (a welcome change from the brutality of prison "love") until the morning was well on its way, Fritzie slept until some time after the Emcee had left the bed, her long legs stretching into the space he'd vacated like vines sluggishly reaching for anemic winter sunlight. A deep sleeper by necessity, a skill acquired after finding herself in many an unorthodox place or position at bedtime, she's finally woken by a persistent tickling in her nose: the corner of the pillowcase caught in the current of a deep breath, the tip of it teasing just inside the outer rim of her left nostril. There's a faint, unmistakably cosmetic smell, and she wonders how many pots of stage makeup they'd upended in the throes of her silly, frivolous, pleasurable homecoming

[your_host]

*The Emcee turns his head toward the sound of those shoes. Those shoes. He's going to have to find Fritzie a pair that's befitting to one such as she. Lightweight and flexible, able to withstand stress and constant movement, sleek and strappy. Not shiny or polished, though -- a bit scuffed, rather, with creases in the soft leather. Shoes that have been through a lot. Shoes that can give as well as they can take.

All this goes through the Emcee's mind as Fritzie make her way toward the bar. He's about to call out to her when he realizes that she has no idea he's up there, standing so still on the shadowy stage. So he watches her silently, her wispy dress clinging to her body, seeming thinner now in the bleak cold of the Klub. She would need new dresses, too.

But right now, she needed to be fed.

He speaks, raising his voice just enough to carry across the empty room.*

If they had known you were here, liebling, I'm sure they would have left you something.

[hot_lil_fingers]

*His voice surprises but doesn't startle and she smiles to see him on stage, as much the Master of Ceremonies at this bleakly unromantic hour as he is when in the proper spotlight. If anything, he looks more at home in the chiaroscuro picture the stage presents right now, the shafts of sun that have determinedly pushed their way in through chinks and cracks setting off distinctly segregated areas of brightness and shadow.*

Mm, I must be fair; there are many things your girls and boys are selfish about but food has never been one of those. It's rather a wonder they found time to eat with the very energetic bon voyage that brave little bed gave them last night.

[your_host]

*Hands in his trouser pockets, he takes a few leisurely steps that bring him to the edge of the stage.*

No matter what happens, they will always find the time to eat. And you heard everything as well? I thought that was just all in a dream. Or perhaps I was confusing it with the noise we'd made. How many times do you suppose they had a go at it? Four, five?

*He lowers himself to sit on the edge of the stage between the footlights, and he motions for her to come to him.*

[your_host]

Mm, how I've missed your hips.

*Sitting up and getting to his feet, he picks his way past scattered shoes toward the door, his arm sweeping lightly against her waist as fluid as the feather boa.*

Let's not be rude, then. He's probably waiting for a tip.

*Out by the bar, there's a young man barely out of his teens holding his cap, having set a bundle of groceries on the countertop, and looking quite eager to leave. The Emcee regards him with a dark gaze and an equally dark smile as he slinks behind the bar. When he speaks his tone is dry and completely unthreatening -- rather like the tone one adopts when speaking to a skittish animal.*

Guten Morgen, Otto. Thank you kindly for the delivery. If you had come just a few moments later, Fritzie and I might have died from starvation. Oh, this here is my darling Fritzie; Fritzie, this handsome young thing is Otto.

*He opens the cash register to fish out some money.*

[hot_lil_fingers]

Of course you did, if the marks your fingers left on said hips are to be believed. You have such a firm grip.

*Fritzie saunters out behind him, her heels making hardly any sound on the floors owing to the soft, catlike manner in which she walked. Having her shoes back had returned to her that last little something she felt she'd missed since being locked away, a breath of air she'd been vainly searching for once she'd walked out of the prison, and she can hardly wait to take it for a spin...

...but certainly not with Otto, she decides as she appraises the coltish, sandy-haired boy with a brief up-and-down flicker of her distant eyes. It's too soon to try and ensnare any creature this nervous, even with the gentlest of her wily ways; she needs time to dust all her tricks off and give them a good polishing before she goes for a project that involved.

So she merely bobs in a theatrical curtsy with the skirt of her dress clutched in her fingers, then holds out her hand with a charming smile* Hello, handsome young Otto.

[your_host]

*Otto avoids Fritzie's eyes but nods a polite hello, putting his cap on in a preliminary gesture toward his escape. The Emcee, of course, sees all this, and can't help but smirk with amusement as he places a few bills on the countertop.*

Here you are, meine Jungen, for this week and last week. Remind your boss that I am a man of my word, won't you, now?

*Otto touches the brim of his cap out of habit and says thank you, yes, he will, in one breath, and after taking the money, he hurriedly lopes toward the door and leaves.*

*The Emcee exhales a weary sigh and pulls a soft loaf of bread from one of the bundles.* Sometimes his type is so annoying it takes all the fun out of making them uncomfortable.

[hot_lil_fingers]

*Fritzie wordlessly watches Otto's back disappear out the door while leaning one elbow on the bar, her head low to her shoulder. She can smell the food nearby and her stomach clenches, painfully empty and desperate to be full again, but if she lets her appetite get the best of her it will only make things worse. Experience has taught her that all too well.*

Surely he's too young to even be a type yet. Probably still has one of his mother's apron strings tied around his ankle, although she can't have taught him his manners if he wouldn't acknowledge a lady's hand. ...Or my hand, for that matter.

*The irresistible aroma of freshly baked bread forces her to swivel her eyes to the grocery bundles and the loaf that the Emcee has already unpacked, the outer crust yielding ever-so-slightly to his fingertips. She envisions herself wolfishly ripping it apart, the insides soft and doughy and the slight resistance of the crust between her teeth, and enjoying every last crumb and she hurriedly bites her lip on a moan.*

[funny_herman]

*Sal drops off Herman, Helga, and Chance at the Kit Kat Klub and they all file inside, maybe a little tired from having woken up so early and a little sad that their friends will be away for a couple of months, but essentially in good spirits.

When Herman notices that there's a woman already sitting at the bar, he does a bit of double-take. She's not a stranger -- just someone he hasn't seen in a very, very long time...*

Fritzie...?

[hot_lil_fingers]

*Turning on the stool at the sound of feet trooping through the front door, Fritzie smiles her wonderful, flirtatious smile and waves her fingers in greeting at the tall, blonde and delicious young man whom she remembers fondly as one of the very, very few she'd never been able to entice into bed.*

Hello, Herman. Gracious but you're handsomer even than I remembered!

[funny_herman]

*He grins warmly and can't help but blush a tiny bit at her compliment, as he leans in and plants a kiss on her cheek.*

Well, thank you, my dear, and welcome home! And might I add that you are looking quite lovely.

[your_host]

*The Emcee wanders out of the kitchen with a tea kettle and some cups. He smirks bemusedly at the exchange and, as is his habit, offers a bit of sly commentary.*

Mm, beware of our Herman, Fritzie. As I told you, he's become quite the charmer since you've been away.

[glassjazz13]

*Chance happily watches the threesome's flirty games and chuckles quietly into her tea at the teasing of Herman. She watches the woman, undecided on whether she admires her, is intimidated by her, or simply fascinated with her. She figures she'll get to know her better soon enough, and come up with a clearer opinion. Finishing her tea, she sets her cup down, props her head up with her hand, elbow on the table, and glances at the Emcee*

If there's anymore tea over there, ya mind pourin' a girl a little more and maybe spikin' it up some?

*Turning to Frtizie* So, if there's a solo act in the works from you, I'm excited to see it. Any idea what you're gonna do or is that to be kept secret?

[hot_lil_fingers]

As of this moment, it's a secret even from me! *Her laughter is a paradox: carefree and world-weary. She cuts herself another slice of bread, a thicker slice than the last, and gently pulls chunks from it to nibble on.* We'll see what can be cooked up. Maybe if I watch tonight's show, one of you beautiful creatures--*she gestures grandly, referring to all four of them*--will inspire my imagination.

[glassjazz13]

*smiles hopefully at Helga* We'll surely try, then.

[little_helga]

Helga nods with a smile back. "That means extra practice today then." She popped her small fingers and headed off for the stage.