Open Log: Tambour Amoureux: Saturday

[neverendingbeat.livejournal.com]

When; Saturday, February 6
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. Day Two, for action happening today. [Previous day] Note: There are a few girls making a break for it today, so perhaps the previous day's log is better for any potential carousers? Whatever you so choose.
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.

Additionally, there is a balcony up some back stairs, for employees, and whomever they might choose to bring there.

In a more private section, off-limits to the clientèle are the private offices of those warranting one. Monsieur Saxon's in particular is two rooms. The larger one contains a desk and couch, along with double doors to a private balcony. The smaller one contains a bed and not too much else. It's not his home, of course, that's elsewhere, but Monsieur Saxon does prefer to know exactly what's been in the bed he uses. Or might use. If he chooses to. A curtain is pulled across the archway between the rooms.



[ooc: 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...
Don't ask me why I know so much about the Master's office, now. I don't know. It kinda just happened.

The Master is Monsieur Saxon to everyone except his girls, to whom he is 'Maître' because he CAN BE.

Also, anyone feel like running away/being signed up? Aion could do with some girls to hunt down, y'know.

Alsoalso, sorry for repetitiveness. Some things just don't NEED to change, y'know? I'm just making certain you don't get shoehorned into one day.]

Comments

[i-themagician.livejournal.com]

Clow followed the Master down the hall, the sickeningly-sweet stench of opium smoke cloying at his nose and reassuring him that they were indeed headed in the right direction. They came, eventually, to another curtained doorway with wisps of sweet-smelling smoke billowing out. The Master pulled back the curtain and ushered him inside, where he found Yuuko luxuriating on a plush couch. She looked just like a porcelain doll lying among a pile of pillows.

"Yuuko!"

[moresake.livejournal.com]

Yuuko yawned, and then blinked. Her eyes were a bit dull, as if she'd just woken up, though of course that wasn't the case. Clow's presence was sobering her a bit, though. Not only did he not have Clef in tow, but he was here. He hated that she came here, she knew; he'd said so often enough, in words or in gesture. She couldn't imagine why he'd found it necessary to interrupt her afternoon.

So she began to make the attempt to find her feet. "Clow?" she inquired.

[i-themagician.livejournal.com]

He almost ran over to her, stumbling over pillows and almost bumping into a low table in the dim light. "Yuuko, there's been an accident."

Then he thought better of it. It wouldn't be good for her to be alarmed while she was still high from the opium. He tried a calmer tone. "Clef is alright. He fell in the lake, but Xiaolang and I got him out and I put him to bed. I thought you'd want to know."

[moresake.livejournal.com]

Well, that was sobering. Her expression hardly had time to find that look of horror before he was explaining, but she wouldn't be forgetting that icy stab of worry any time soon. She had grown quite attached to her little apprentice, hadn't she? So much so... that it surprised her.

So she set down the pipe, glared at him accusingly, and pushed past him, willing her lethargy away and heading for the door. She'd go see for herself what Clow and his ridiculous flying obsession had done.

[i-themagician.livejournal.com]

Clow turned and followed her, not least of all because he wasn't sure how steady she'd be. He wasn't expecting her to just jump up and walk out, like the opium was nothing!

"I-- I'm sorry!"

[moresake.livejournal.com]

She reached out and grabbed his shoulder, without even looking to make sure he'd be there, when she felt as if she were going to stumble. But she kept going, her anger and concern propelling her forward. She stalked past everyone and out the door without acknowledging any of them.

"I'd hope so," she said coolly, after a moment on the loud and disorienting streets. She didn't stop moving.

orz sorry this tag is lame. /falls asleep on keyboard

[i-themagician.livejournal.com]

He sighed and resigned himself to silence until they got to the house - there was honestly nothing he could say before then that would help his situation. The boy was fine, but she would need proof.

Fortunately, it wasn't that long of a walk.

not laaaaaaaaaame

[moresake.livejournal.com]

She had been walking swiftly, loudly, in her annoyance, but when she stepped into the house, barely pausing to let Clow in behind her, she shut the door quietly. She didn't say another word to him until she'd slipped in to see Clef; when she came back out of the room, shutting that door quietly, she crossed her arms and stared at him.

"He's going to catch a cold," she said accusingly. He hadn't actually drowned, so that was probably the worse physical fate he could manage, but the way that she spoke made it seem just as bad.