Open Log: Tambour Amoureux: Friday

[neverendingbeat.livejournal.com]

When; Friday, February 5
Rating; Pffff it's a brothel, idek. 'May get porny' What sort of rating is that?
Characters; The Master, ANY NUMBER OF EMPLOYEES, CUSTOMERS, ETC.
Summary; It's the Belle Epoque. The Master has a brothel cos he can.
Log; In the red light district, there are any number of bordeaux, catering to a vast array of clients. Tambour Amoureux, however, has a certain...something to it. The owner, a Monsieur Harold Saxon, has made sure of this. He may be a British import but his attention to style, to the quality of entertainment, to the health and well-being of his girls, is still impeccable, to say the least.

From the outside, it's not necessarily instantly obvious what sort of establishment it is. There is lighting, and a certain welcoming atmosphere, and the name on a large sign at the front but it really could be any number of cabarets. Of course, the connoisseur of such places would easily recognise the name.

Inside, there is a stage, for performances, as well as tables and chairs and several couches as well at certain points to the side. The room has a rich mahogany and deep red colour scheme. There is a staircase, more discreet, off to the side, leading to the upstairs, where there is a hallway, with lighting more dim than the lower levels; various doors leading into any number of bedrooms.

Most discreet of all, and a place that requires either longer patronage, or association with someone who knows the secret is a backroom, lavishly furnished with couches and carpets and drapery. Here, one may purchase opium, or bring one's own and relax in a comfortable surrounding.



[ooc:....okay, you guys, this is me trying my hardest. It's a curse so...accuracy...whatever, yeah? Also, apparently, waiting until the morning to post is TOO MUCH. I was going for....a bit more brothel-y than Moulin Rouge, you know, cos the brothel is the focus, rather than the cabaret. FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, PLEASE INVENT THINGS. I kind of...bare-bones'd it so I'll be stalking over everyone's posts and if you add in a piece of scenery or a specific thing to the maison then I'll add it into the description.

Also, it's never too late to join the Master's....team. Just go to the post linked in the Character's section. Message me or something if you want to talk out stuff or ask questions or suggest things or whatever. Or work out character connections to the Master because I totally didn't do that at all... Also, I've got the log labelled as 'Friday' right now for...less confusion. I'm going to do a 'Saturday' post as well, making any amendments if some sort of plot happens today. Or anything. Again, if you think I should change this, tell me. I just....wanted it to be organised.

Oh, right, and the Master is Monsieur Saxon to everyone except his girls, to whom he is 'Maître' because he CAN BE. (Oh, Priestly, you can still call him 'Monsieur le Maître' only that's kind of 'Mister Master' which is acceptable silliness from Priestly but maybe not so much EVERYONE.)]

Comments

MONSIEUR SAXON

[neverendingbeat.livejournal.com]

He is a constant presence in the maison close. He might be sitting at his favoured table--off to the side but close to the stage--he could be wandering through the room. He might be watching from anywhere, really, and it's his right as the owner of Tambour Amoureux.

Harold Saxon speaks French impeccably, with only a slight British accent and sometimes, not even that, as if he's forgotten his own accent, which is, of course, ridiculous. He is always well-dressed and fashionable, and quick to smile. However, he is equally quick to anger, if you disobey the common courtesies that are the rules of the bordello. Despite his business, he is rather well-respected in society.

[ooc: A post for if you'd like to interact with the Master. He could be any of those places or anywhere else. Feel completely free to godmod a little and invent where he is, where you'd like to talk to him.]

[gartersbreak.livejournal.com]

The Maître is much more hands on than one would expect, given Inara's firm hand with his girls. So when Faith runs into him (not literally, of course; running pell-mell through the maison is strictly disallowed) at the base of the staircase, it's not anything resembling a shock. "Maître." Even Inara can't quite break Faith of the tiny glimmer of insolence calling any person-- man, specifically, but let's not quibble over details-- 'master' brings out in her.

...The rest of her address is, however, impeccable; slightly wicked smile, a briefly bowed head, all the expected nods to authority.

[horrible-penny.livejournal.com]

Penny, for her part, can't remember why exactly she had decided to become a fille de joie (there are so many charming ways to say something roughly equivalent to 'prostitute' in French, but that is her favorite). Freedom may have something to do with it. She can earn her own money, save as she pleases, rise from poverty to become... something. Independence.

It isn't a bad job, of course--far better than working the streets or in the horrible factories. Maître is good to his people, and the accommodations for his workers are more than comfortable. He treats Penny just as well as the other girls in spite of her class and--if she is honest with herself--less than universally appealing looks. He tolerates her general disapproval of the opium den and the occasional rant about female equality.

Penny is lounging on a comfortable red couch waiting for an opportunity to work. She catches a glimpse of Maître--that's all she usually catches of him as he patrols his domain--and waves. If he has time, a little company would be appreciated.

Re: MONSIEUR SAXON

[livingmyths.livejournal.com]

Rain's head immediately went down when he came close. He didn't hurt her, but he made sure she knew who owned her and that she must do whatever she was told, no matter how distasteful she found it.

Re: MONSIEUR SAXON

[only-fell.livejournal.com]

Inara moves through the crowd toward Monsieur Saxon. She approaches him with a mischievous smile and a nod of her head, holding her hand out for him to kiss.

"Monsieur. It looks to be a promising night."

Inara Serra

[only-fell.livejournal.com]

As the Madame at Tambour Amoureux Inara often appears to play the same role as Monsieur Saxon. Of course that's not quite true. Her responsibility is the girls while the Monsieur resides over the entire establishment. While the girls are often in a certain state of undress one might say, Inara is always impeccably and stunningly dressed (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Wai0KpzGIPQ/SOkAxTW0ofI/AAAAAAAAB2I/lDUC8i7JH5A/s400/PIC_1386.jpg).She circulates through the front room, pausing at tables to put a hand on a client's shoulder, inquire about their evening (one never asks about a client's family), their well-being and perhaps if the client is very fortunate, Inara will sit with them for a few minutes.

She circulates through the hallways above, making certain that everything there is status quo but always returns to the bordello below. The girls have been taught to handle themselves in the rooms above should a problem arise. Below takes a bit more of a delicate hand.

Most often she can be found at the end of the bar with a cup of tea watching out over all of her darlings to make certain everything is running smoothly.

[casserlacerise.livejournal.com]

Priestly hops up out of the couch he is reclined in, smiling cheekily and broad at Madame Serra as she passes. His hand goes to his bare head and, as though he's removing his hat, it swings down in front of him as he bows in a grand gesture.

"Madame!" Anticipating her scorn, her bring his head back up straight, tucking his elbows and extending a hand to take her own.

[horrible-penny.livejournal.com]

Madame, of course, warrants the same respect as Maître. Penny admires Madame Serra--her grace, her beauty, her attention to the girls. She doesn't know the other woman well, being relatively new to the establishment as she is, but she likes her.

Penny throws sidelong glances at Madame from her couch. Business is slow--slower, perhaps, for Penny, who is willing to admit that she isn't the most stunning girl in the eyes of potential customers--and she considers striking up a conversation. It seems horribly inappropriate to begin such a conversation, however. Perhaps Madame would prefer to drink her tea without interruption...

Re: Inara Serra

[livingmyths.livejournal.com]

Rain ducked her head again as Madame walked by. She was so beautiful and perfect while Rain was just a poor broken-headed girl who couldn't really understand much - or anything - in the way of subtlety.

And she scared Rain. Rain knew what she was here to do, even understood that the clients liked it that she was scared and unwilling. She knew better than to protest, but she was afraid that Madame knew she wanted to.

[casserlacerise.livejournal.com]

For they who are less comfortable with their own presence in the maison Priestly situates himself, dressed rather well (if not rumpled and missing his vest) thanks to his Monsieur le Maître near the center. He keeps an eye open for the tell tale shifty behavior and nervous air of an as yet unbroken filly (or colt) and moves in as necessary. Of course there are particular individuals he waits for, even if Madame Serra would disapprove of his actions. Therein lies a portion of the fun, of course!

The more intimate parts of his job are something that simply may well come to pass. However: his purpose, regardless of what his Maître requires of him, is to bring comfort and ease to paying customers. Shyness is to be left at the door, here one may open up to him and be what they truly are underneath without fear of scorn or ridicule.

He will respond happily, his northern American accent quite noticeable, and he may regale you with tales of the Wild West and the savages the government is conquering for the good of the pale faces in America, if you like that sort of thing. Priestly also has stories of the prospering cities and corrupt government officials if gossip if more your style.

Of course if you're simply looking for carnality, he is able to make other uses of his mouth...


[ooc; yes he's a whore, yes he'll have sex with your bb if they can pay but i will ftb any actually sex. if your character needs a little confidence boost he will also provide that (if you can pay)]

[livingmyths.livejournal.com]

Rain liked listening to Priestly's stories, though she usually listened from a corner or out of the way place. He was so comfortable with all of... this... and she was always so uncomfortable and scared that he intimidated her.

Of course, everyone intimidated her.

[gartersbreak.livejournal.com]

In a fleeting moment of quiet, Faith brings Priestly a glass of wine; perhaps she can tempt him onto one of the balconies for a cigarette and a brief talk. He's one of the few other workers she'll willingly seek out for company; scared little mouses have never been to her taste, and Priestly's accent is enough like home she can ignore the differences.

[neverendingbeat.livejournal.com]

He's doing his rounds, questioning the girls, when he finds Priestly. The man is another one of his more successful acquisitions. Not every maison close caters to the other half, or necessarily even the portion of the first half. Not to mention that he finds Priestly vastly amusing.

He walks over to the man, smiling and raising his eyebrows, speaking in English because, well, why not? "Hello, Priestly. How has your evening been thus far?"

*sorry for the late*

[favoritetraitor.livejournal.com]

Not finding Monsieur Saxon in the main room, Solomon paused, considering where else to check. It was unlike the man to not greet him when they had arranged to speak business, but then there were many aspects of his profession that were likely to pull him away at the last minute.

The doctor's eyes slid across the room, noting the various encounters already in progress. Soon, the prospective clients would finalize their terms and escort their choices for the evening up to the myriad of rooms upstairs. It was a profitable and enjoyable business and one that Solomon had partaken of himself on many occasions.

But if the Master of the Bordello was unavailable at the moment, he'd just have to find something else to do until the man decided to show up. Walking over to Priestly, he bowed his head slightly in greeting. "Monsieur~. How good to see you again. Have you been well?"

Faith Lehane

[gartersbreak.livejournal.com]

Faith is not exactly the most expensive of the Maître's girls. She is, however, one of the best. When her Watcher told her about how she would someday be able to move, he likely had no intention it would be put to use in a brothel, a fact which is the source of no end of private satisfaction.

She can speak French now-- fluently-- but the accent is sheer America, as bad as it ever was living on the streets of Boston. There are certain customers who find it attractive, and Faith is contrary enough to cling to it despite those who don't. Call it in memoriam to the man who brought her to Paris in the first place.

It's hardly the worst life available to her. Beyond Council control, fed and clothed and sheltered by the very place that makes her occasional forays into slaying that much easier.

She positions herself off to the side, lounging bonelessly on a couch and watching as the maison comes to life. Unlike her fellow American, she doesn't cater to the inexperienced or unsure, the ones who want for a delicate touch and kind words. Faith is better for those who know what they want and exactly how much they'll need to pay to get it.

[ ooc: Faith Lehane: Errant Vampire Slayer and Whore. If your character can pay, there will be sex, etc etc etc. That's basically the jist. ]

Re: Faith Lehane

[makes-you-tick.livejournal.com]

Sylar had not been affected by the change. His shop altered slightly, but he hadn't opened it back up yet (and, to be honest, there was still a little cleaning up to do), so that didn't matter terribly much. He'd been wandering the past few days, trying to think about his next few moves. He thought up all sorts of things, but nothing he wanted to settle on. And to be honest, maybe it would be okay to avoid planning for a little while. He just wished his mind would believe that.

Today he'd managed to distract himself by exploring the new City. He wandered in and out of entirely new places, enjoying the sights and sounds. Here, he plans to maybe catch a performance, do some people watching, and then shuffle off to other parts.

And then he sees Faith.

He immediately moves to the other side of the room, trying to watch her without being too noticeable. He probably should leave, as it was likely to get terribly awkward very shortly.

But he doesn't leave, not quite yet. He is now very interested in the full situation here. Besides, no one would ever believe this was an accident.

Re: Faith Lehane

[only-fell.livejournal.com]

Inara makes her rounds through the maison, pausing at Faith with a smile. Faith was easily the most capable of the girls and the one in least need of mothering. Or perhaps more depending on much of Faith's story one knew and how close one was to her. Inara was in a fairly in the middle in that regards as her position dictated. She nods a greeting to Faith and speaks in English because the woman's French makes her cringe.

"Faith, I trust the evening finds you well."

[horrible-penny.livejournal.com]

Penny sits upright on her couch, hoping that business will pick up. She isn't the most experienced worker or the prettiest, but she does get her fair share of solicitors. The quiet and shy tend to gravitate towards her, and she does what she can to make them feel welcome.

She glances around at her fellow workers. She doesn't know them well, mostly be virtue of being slightly afraid of them. Priestly--American, she thinks--is intimidating and just overeager enough to discourage her from approaching him. Faith, who is undoubtedly American, is outright frightening. There's something predatory about her that Penny shies away from.

She feels very different from her peers. Quiet, French... perhaps not of a different class, but certainly of a different breed. Penny's in the habit of wearing more clothes than them--not because she's a prude, but because she sees no reason not to appear respectable at work, even when that work is of a generally questionable nature. There's more to it than being a prostitute, though. This job is about freedom. It's artistic in its own right, and beautiful in its way. It's a chance to be a hard-working citizen with the opportunity to improve the lives of others.

Or so she likes to think.

Penny briefly considers striking up a conversation with Faith. They're comrades! Then again, Faith is a distinctly frightening comrade. Perhaps she wouldn't even want to talk to Penny. They should be competing, shouldn't they?

[ooc: Penny the prostitute. Oh yeah.]

[harassmentgirl.livejournal.com]

Alice looks around from her seat on the stage and notices the quiet Penny sitting on her couch, waiting. Penny was one of Alice's favorite sisters, as she was among the nicer ones and gave off that warm air of acceptance she remembered from back home.

She approaches her shyly, greeting her in the nervous, unsure French she always had, "Good evening, Penny. Would you, um," and from here, she switches back to English sheepishly, "would you be willing to help me, a bit, before the customers arrive?"

Rain

[livingmyths.livejournal.com]

Rain was beautiful and fragile looking. And indeed was fragile both in mind and body. The abuse she'd suffered as a child had damaged her somehow, making her childlike and seemingly innocent, despite her profession. She laughed with the delight and charm of a young child, easily cheered and amused, yet could just as easily be overcome with fear. She often slept alone, hiding in a corner, to avoid waking others with her night terrors.

She was very popular with a certain type of client, but not because she was particularly skilled and certainly not for any appearance of enjoyment on her part. Quite the opposite. She knew better than to fight back or openly protest, submitting when she was forced to, and many found her quiet tears enticing.

When there were no clients or business was slow, things were easier. The shy girl had touched a soft spot in the hearts of many of the prostitutes and they kept an eye out for small things that might amuse her or make her smile - even a feather or pretty bead would draw such happiness from her.

[horrible-penny.livejournal.com]

In the lull before the business of the evening begins, Penny made her way over to Rain. She didn't know the other woman well or fully understand why she was so fearful, but she was as much a part of the family as anyone else.

Quietly so as not to frighten her, Penny addressed Rain in French, holding a tiny pouch towards her. "Rain? I have something for you."

[incendite.livejournal.com]

Of course, even in a place such as this there will inevitably the trouble-makers and the ne'er-do-wells. Or simply those whom the People In Charge have problems with. Seifer is here to deal with those sorts of people, and he does quite well at it. He's also likely to be one of the few people who's actually armed, although the long coat he's wearing does a decent enough job of hiding it.

For now, he merely drifts, keeping an eye out for the ones who might be more trouble then they're worth as he goes, although he'll stop to share a word if you really want. And don't mind his slight tendency to be a bit abrasive.

[livingmyths.livejournal.com]

Seifer scared her a bit too, but to her mind he had saved her once or twice from a client who was too rough and dangerous so she tried hard to make sure she had a shy smile for him.

Alice

[harassmentgirl.livejournal.com]

In the center of the stage, atop a stool, sits Alice as she reaches down to adjust her stockings (http://moulinrougecostume.net/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/Moulin_Rouge_Costume_60564-444x1024.jpg). Appearance was of the utmost importance, as Madame had always said, even though the stockings were almost guaranteed to be off by the end of the night.

But the night had yet to begin for Tambour Amoureax's girls. When the sun went down, the creatures of the night would rise, and then, business would begin. Though business for Alice slightly different from that of the other girls. As the men came looking for companionship, she would dance as entertainment for those who could not pay to have more than a show. Alice was younger than the others and as such, was not always required to...attend, to their patrons. But Maître had made good to remind Alice what sort of establishment the Tambour was and Alice would do what was needed to earn her stay.

And as such, Alice realized her need to learn French. She knew a few words here and there but was not fluent like the others, and often switched back and forth between broken French and English. This made it hard to communicate with her sisters but she was learning and some customers thought the effort to be endearing. Still, she was determined to learn and would ask the others for lessons while they were not working.

After dressing, this is what she sought off to do. Might as well make good use of their time.

[liveontoday.livejournal.com]

Meanwhile, Saya had been moving about the Tambour Amoureax for some time. She had met with a few of the older girls, catching up on how there were. There were good stories now and then; maybe a girl or two had landed a rich husband or benefactor much in the same way Saya herself had. More often it was sad stories, girls gone off in the night to never return or clients they had had problems with. Still, most of what she heard was the same old business and the same old routine she knew very well.

She paused a moment, catching sight of Alice in that lovely red dress of hers. Saya always had been partial to red and, in a way, missed the gaudy outfits and bright trimmings of the brothel.

"You are doing well, Alice." Her own English was nicely smooth, something she had always been just a little proud of. And, as memory dictated to her, Alice wasn't quite fluent yet in French.

[favoritetraitor.livejournal.com]

Entering Tambour Amoureux with Saya on his arm, Solomon Goldsmith glanced around the lush interior of the establishment. It had long ago become a familiar sight due to his frequent business with the proprietor of the place. And Solomon counted his associations with the man amongst his better decisions.

There were many familiar faces in the room, ones that he’d served to examine for various work related diseases (or had had the pleasure of their company in the distant past), and yet others that he’d seen patronizing the place on a frequent basis. To the drug lord, and personal physician, it had become a virtual home away from home.

Smiling pleasantly, he removed his hat and leaned in to whisper in Saya’s ear. "My business with Monsieur Saxon will only take a short while, ma chère. I trust that you'll be able to keep yourself amused until I return?"

[liveontoday.livejournal.com]

For Saya, the place was even more familiar. Save for some of the newer girls, she could name most everyone she saw in the establishment. She even knew the background of a few of them, shared in idle chatting and, in some instances, commiseration.

She returned on occasion with Solomon when he had business. Given his reputation, being seen through town with a known former prostitute on his arm wasn't as damaging as it might be to some. Coupled with his charm and well... he did have a way with words.

The woman nodded her head lightly, giving Solomon a soft smile before she slipped her arm from his. "Mm, there are a few of the girls I've been wanting to chat with." Only the older clientele would ever recognize her and given the style of her dress compared to the other ladies, it was unlikely they would mistake her as one of the women still.

[favoritetraitor.livejournal.com]

Having made the rounds amongst a few of the brothel's employees, Solomon was finally able to ascertain Monsieur Saxon's whereabouts. Of course it had given him room to pause, hearing that the man was 'upstairs' at the time. But considering that they'd arranged to meet at this hour, the doctor couldn't imagine that he'd have gone up with 'company' in tow.

The banister underneath his hand was smooth to the touch. It's polished surface dulled by the frequent customers that made this very same climb. In fact, there were many times where he himself had ascended to the upper floor with a lovely companion by his side. But Saya had changed all that...

Ignoring the ardent sounds emanating from underneath closed doors, he made his way to an off limits section of the building. One where his colleague had a private office where they could speak of matters best kept quiet. He rapped a few times on its surface and waited...

[neverendingbeat.livejournal.com]

The Master, in fact, was on his own private balcony, staring out over the City as he smoked a cigar. He hasn't had one of them for a while. One of his earlier regenerations was quite fond of them, and he hadn't been bothered again for a while. It's pleasant, and confusing, like any habit readopted in a new body, and the knocks only registered in his consciousness half a minute after they occurred. Opening the doors to reenter his office, he closed them and walked around his desk and over to the entry door to open it likewise.

"Ah, Solomon, hello. Pardon me, of course, I didn't hear you initially. Come in."

[makes-you-tick.livejournal.com]

Sylar hadn't expected...well, pretty much the entirety of this evening. But he certainly hadn't expected the drug to actually do much of anything. Thus, instead of moving around the bar, keeping an eye on what was going on, Sylar is currently laid out on one of the couches in the back. He clearly hadn't thought this through.

This isn't so bad, though. He knew- as he had known since he arrived- that the curse was relatively safe. Anything that was done during this curse would be undone when the curse ended. Faith was smart enough to take care of herself, really. She must recognize what sort of man the Master was, even in this state.

And for once in a very long time, Sylar didn't have to analyze every little thing. He could just enjoy himself. He lays there and smiles, very occasionally taking out a coin to flip in the air. His motor skills aren't at their best, but he uses his telekinesis to ensure it comes back to him.

[ooc: For Faith, and anyone else who might want to talk to him in the back room. ;) ]

[gartersbreak.livejournal.com]

Faith is experienced enough that she shouldn't care about one rejection. But she does, frustratingly enough, and after Inara quietly tells her the Maître has allowed a short break, she finds herself heading into the back room.

"An impressive trick, Monsieur." The scorn is faint, but obvious enough. She's unsure where this pique is coming from, but the stress of the night and the smell of poppy is enough to let herself have some portion of real expression. "Is that all you've come for, then?"