making my mark

[effy]

Janet strode through the doors of the establishment, sweeping quickly past the bouncer. She forcefully navigated her way through the front rooms, filled with the many patrons, and found the bar. Settling down in a stool, she waiting for the barista to come. She swiveled around, surveying the crowds. She shook her head almost pitifully and turned back around to face the woman waiting patiently for an order.

"Oh, uh, I'll have..." she stuttered, unready, "a Bronx." She'd never had one before, amazingly, but had heard of it many a time. The woman nodded and bustled off to man near her. Janet set her elbows on the table and perched her chin in her hands, eyes drifting across the bottoms of gin and whiskey on the wall.

The barista, as it turned out, was not the most graceful of women and spilled Janet's drink several times before successfulness bringing it to her (and looking immensely proud when she did). She took the glass and took up, again maneuvering her way through the crowded. She knew from experience that here, the other room without people spilling out the windows was the back room. She took a seat next to a window, overlooking the water.

It was a starless night, but city lights perked up the scene and gave the sky the look of a picture from a light-leaked camera. She set her drink on a small table and gazed out at it, trying her best to block out the sounds of any normal speakeasy.

[Mimi]

Rian pulled up before the shabbily hidden speakeasy with an outside that looked as glamorous as the inside; the only thing it lacked was a sign labeled "tavern". Any trained eye would have picked it out as such, and as if stirred by the thought, Rian swiveled about in his seat, looking behind at the traffic along the road and unconsciously searching for the feds. But, of course, none were to be found, and Rian shook his head with a knowing smile. Nevertheless, these people were amateurs; they thought they could pay off the bull, but such a gaudy, flashy place couldn't last solely on bribes. It didn't hurt, though, to scope out the competition as his father had asked -- no, demanded. Rian sat in the car a moment longer, studying his fingers as they tapped restlessly against the wheel before he gently kicked open the door and stepped onto the street.

N'Orleans was always alive at night and not just with lights, people, or sound but with feeling as if the entire city would fall into an ecstatic orgy at any moment. For a person devoid of emotion, Rian was surprisingly receptive of the charged atmosphere and accepted it and reciprocated it as efficiently as a warehouse machine. Running a hand through his hair, which had already been slicked back, he took a deep breath of the familiar air along with its acerbic sting of fish and sea and continued on in measured, even steps that took him presently to the door.

Rian, actually, wasn't here solely for inspecting a competitor's bar; on the contrary, he had a much larger agenda to accomplish which included, unfortunately, making the acquaintance of a particular jane whose name, amusingly, was Janet. Well, Janet if he remembered correctly, and a dim shadow of her image wavered in his mind. He'd been told she was of a prestigious family; the family he heard, the girl he hadn't though he had been assured he had. Apparently, she was a frequenter of several speakeasies around town, but the picture he'd been given did nothing to refresh his memory. It wasn't surprising, he supposed, considering he paid little to no attention to women outside the ones his father told him to pay attention to.

The doorman quickly let him through, and Rian swept into the crowded room with quick steps, a solid determination etched into his features that seemed more fitting for a business meeting than a casual tryst. His eyes systematically scanned the crowd, pausing a beat on familiar female faces before ruling them out as he moved through the room. For a moment, it almost seemed as though Rian had the wrong joint, and he growled under his breath in irritation as he prepared to go. The clumsy barista in the corner, however, caught his attention, and she wouldn't have normally if not for the fact she'd tripped over his feet getting over there.

He frowned, rolling his eyes slightly as he muttered something disparaging about the female sex and again prepared to go. Who should the barista have been serving, however, than Miss Janet? Rian quirked an eyebrow at the discovery, almost irked and satisfied at the same time, for now it meant he'd actually have to talk to the girl.

She was moving towards the back room, and Rian likewise followed, keeping his eyes on her chassis as it swayed in and out of moving bodies. She finally sat down beside a window overlooking the water; Rian stopped accordingly but made no further movement towards the table and the empty seat next to her. She seemed innocent enough, sporting the bob that was oh-so-popular nowadays and a roundish face much as the photo had shown.

He looked around a moment, waiting for a bartender, but the back room serviced much less people than the front, and no bartender was near at hand. For the second time that night, Rian rolled his eyes at the mediocrity before, in a single graceful movement, he'd made his way to the table and slid into the seat. Smiling his dissembled smile, Rian introduced himself.

"Hiya, darlin'. Felcotti, Rian Felcotti. What's a bird like you doin' 'round these parts?"

[/size]