Nestled into one of the back-alley corners of Viorar, the Evening Star Nightclub was, despite its isolation, quite a fancy establishment on the inside. A short entryway allowed guests to safely leave any personal belongings, as well as coats and jackets, in a small closet where the stationed bouncer, a burly and dark-skinned man that looked as though he'd seen way more than his share of scraps, would keep a close eye on things, ever on guard for those attempting to put a damper on other guests' enjoyment. Beyond the beaded curtain lay a fanciful and open showroom that stretched far across, with plentiful seating in various heights, all the way from balcony seats to up-close stageside tables. A concession counter presented itself across one end of the wall just to the right of the main entrance, while the bathrooms were opposite, with signage that declared accommodations for all species, no matter how common or exotic.

And speaking of species, it might as well be noted that, aside from the patrons and guests themselves (as well as the bouncer), there seem to be no normal 'human' or 'human-esque' employees on the floor of this business; every waitress, every performer, any and all members of the nightclub that happened to be wearing an ID badge were of some beastial race or subspecies, ranging from siren to lamia, to some with obvious demonic ancestry, to even a woman that looked to be part wasp. Everyone, employees and patrons alike, greeted one another with no regard for race or background, and it was that kind of atmosphere that most-likely afforded the Evening Star Nightclub its place in the moonlight.

Lacking an on-stage performance at the moment, hip and bouncy music reverberated throughout the large room, with solid emphasis on the bass, rivaling the lively chatter going on from all sides of the showroom. Several waitresses, all wearing what appeared to be local uniforms consisting of metallic-blue bikini tops and black half-skirts with slits up the sides, attended to patrons on the regular, never hurrying and always smiling, perhaps for show but also potentially genuine, as some of them don't hesitate to stop for a quick chat with any one of the customers on any given basis. Near the back, an older siren woman seems to keep watch over the area, arms folded across her chest as she helps to ensure the safety and well-being of both employees and guests alike, on this side of the curtain; the lanyard and attached ID around her neck, as opposed to the ones pinned upon the other employees' skirts, seems to heavily imply that she may be a manager of some sort.

All in all, it was a happy place to be in the early evening hours, and those who sought out its comfort were afforded considerable reprieve from the daily stresses of day-to-day events. Considering its semi-hidden location, if word-of-mouth were its main business model, those voices were speaking quite loudly for certain!

With the volume of tables and seating available, finding an open spot isn't too terribly difficult, but it's worth noting that there seems to be one small table just off to left-center of the front of the stage that has a folded card placed upon its center, with a fancy script written upon it as some indication that it were being reserved for a specific party.
February 17, 2024

In his time, he had seen plenty of different venues. Mostly stages purpose built for one night and torn down by the next day, but there had been a few times where they managed to settle into somewhere more established. Of them all, none were so secretive, and none so... Adult.

Kane sits at one of the tables, hands laced behind his head and eyes closed. He was here for the music, more than anything else. Despite his career he had never stopped loving music, or appreciating the various styles that people created it in. Sirens were supposed to be masters of vocal work, too so while he was happy to vibe to these tunes for now there was a level of excitement building inside him.

As the mood takes him, and as he starts to catch in to how the song flows, Kane drops his hands down from behind his head to start strumming away at the air. A little weird for an onlooker, perhaps, but he didn't have to care about that anymore. One of the perks of his life as it is now.

Ah, now this was a place of culture. Now that he was off the clock he could enjoy himself a bit. He gazed about the place as he entered, and was fairly impressed with how extravagant the establishment was laid out. As he delved deeper, the noise was readily apparent - from the bass of the music to the words being exchanged throughout. He didn't mind, though. He'd certainly been through worse.

Terashi took a seat fairly separate from other patrons, making sure not to approach the clearly marked table that was waiting for someone - or someones. It was none of his business who. He ensured himself some distance from others to ensure his view unobstructed once the festivities began in earnest. From there, he waited patiently. He had plenty of wealth and time to spare.

The general banter of the lobby continues around these two new guests as they blend in almost seamlessly amidst the patronage all around. It isn't long before a red-scaled lamia slithers her way over, with considerable care and attention to other mobile guests and waitstaff, being fully aware of her long tail as she stops alongside the table that Kane has claimed for himself. She sets down a glass of icewater on the table and smiles pleasantly at him, offering a shorthand curtsey. "Yer a new face here, aren'tcha?" she asks. "Really glad to sssee you here tonight! Can I getcha anything?" She rests one of her hands on what looks like a small notepad hanging out of a pocket on the front of her skirt, but seems to be waiting further before deciding whether it needs to be used or not. She seems to loom over the table, and Kane, by more than a little bit, but height is difficult to control when your body is roughly 13 feet long.

On the other side, separate from the majority of the nightclub-dwellers, a lithe woren female weaves her way around the outlying tables toward their newest guest, grinning in a way that heavily showcases her prominent fangs. "Ah, a newcomer!" she says with what can only be defined as a schoolgirl's squee. "I love when new people show up!" She easily slides a glass of icewater on the table near Terashi's seat, and proceeds to gracefully twirl an inkpen around for a full second between several of her fingers, before stopping it in a writing position, her other hand resting on a small notepad in the front pocket of her skirt. "What can I get for ya, sweetie?" Her feline tail wafts about her backside excitedly, matching the vocal tone one hundred percent.

The interruption from his jam session pauses Kane's hands, but he doesn't startle. If anything his body locks up for a moment before he settles a hand on his knee and hooks a thumb into his pocket. "In the area, and eager to catch the show." His eyes meet with the server, smiling easily at her as if entirely undaunted by her size or partial serpentine appearance.

You meet all kinds out here.

"Not sure what the menu is specifically sorry, got caught up in the moment. Got any uhhh..." He mentally gropes for a few moments, eyes flicking around the room before tilting his head back up to regard the lamia. "Fries, something like that? Feeling like a light meal at most."

It was nice to see that the service was on point. That, or the nightclub had been open for a bit by the time Terashi found it. Either possibility could have been the case, though that mattered little to him. That said, he WAS new to the place, and as such had no clue what they had to offer. Indeed, he believed establishments like this only served alcohol, and yet, his ears and nose were proving him wrong. Moreso the latter given the volume of the place. "Sorry to ask, but where would I find the menu?" He fully intended to buy something - it was important to bring wealth to flaunt in places like this, and he wasn't lacking in that department - but knowing his options would help a great deal.

"Right on!" the lamia waitress says agreeably, taking out her pad and hitting it down with fairly-quick strokes. "You're in luck tonight, we got one of our bessst girls comin' back after about a week. Guarantee you she's got plenty of energy fer everyone." The lamia grins, brushing a bit of her golden bangs aside in a quasi-flirtatious gesture. "Just a sssnack tonight, huh? That's pretty normal. I'll go ahead and get that in for ya, and if there's anything else ya need, we got a counter up front, there..." She gestures back near the entrance. "...or you can flag one of us down and we'll getcha sssquared right away!" The lamia gives another shorthand curtsey, and snakes her way back down the aisle to put the order in.

"Ah, oh no!" the woren waitress gasps, catching her mistake. She turns halfway, where there happens to be another woren waitress, a bit on the smaller side, right behind her. "Tabby, can I get a menu from you? I totes forgot!" The attitude may be a bit unprofessional, but there's something to be said for the girl's earnestness, at least. Acquiring one such menu from her colleague, the waitress places a fairly-thick, laminated menu in front of Terashi. This menu has an obnoxiously-large amount of options that cover virtually all spectrums of dietary intake, and it almost seems like it'd be easier to list things they -don't- offer. One thing that is quite noticeable, perhaps, is the absolute lack of anything alcoholic; every drink being offered appears to be of the non-intoxicating variety. "Sorry about that!" the waitress fusses. "Should I come back in a few minutes?"

Around the corner of a hallway leading behind the stage, a siren's face is seen peeking out into the lobby as if looking for someone. When she doesn't find who she's looking for, though, she adjusts her glasses briefly and then disappears back from whence she came.

Kane quirks an eyebrow at the news of his good fortune, and smiles in return for the flirty little flick. He could recognize a crowd pleaser when he saw one. Once the long lady slithers off, he takes a moment to enjoy some of the provided water before settling back into his slightly leaned back air guitar session.

Well, most accurately bass, but it looked the same to the outside. Even for just standby music the club had a good beat to it, never overpowering enough to take someone from their conversation but still infectious enough to make the body want to sway a little. The thought to record some comes to mind, but without asking the person in charge there's a million little issues that crop up with that. Something to ask the lady about when she comes back, maybe.

"Ah shoot, forgot to get her name." The realization shakes him out of the groove enough that he sits up, caught in between wondering if it would be more polite to ask her name or if that would be seen as overly personal if she didn't give it herself.

"That won't be necessary. Let's go with the roast beef sandwich. With a plate, if you have them," he requested. The plate was to ensure he didn't get his suit dirty, but he didn't want to sound snobbish by saying that. He gave the serving lady a polite, if slightly flirtations, smirk after ordering, and otherwise waited for her response.

"Ah, yeah, of course!" the woren woman responds enthusiastically to Terashi, grabbing her notepad from the skirt pocket and hurriedly scribbling it down. "I'll get that right in for you!" She takes the menu back and offers a low bow, perhaps a bit too formal for such an laid-back establishment. "Thank you very much!" And with that, she bounds away a bit too quickly, her inexperience at professional waitressing way beyond obvious at this point. She can be seen catching up to the other woren waitress that she'd borrowed the menu from and thanking her like some kind of older sister for the save.

The general atmosphere of the nightclub continues to remain mellow and jovial, seeming much less of a professional business than a general hangout spot for both customers and staff alike, with no hurried stress from the later and no annoyed impatience from the former, at least that could be seen. The current beat gradually subsides from the overhead speakers pumping the music into the place, only to be replaced with something a bit more techno-centric, with a lot of electric keyboard and, still, heavy bass.

Having brought up the order and awaiting its preparation, the red-scaled lamia waitress from Kane's earlier interaction comes back around to clean up an adjacent table to where he was seated, sticking a glass atop a plate with frequent backward glances to make sure her tail isn't going to trip anyone from where it is. She grins at something that apparently strikes her as amusing while she cleans up, and pockets a couple of gold coins that had been left on that table as a tip, slipping them into the front pocket of her skirt.

Kane, being observant finally, flicks a couple of fingers up when the lamia's tail watching manages to get her attention over his way. The shift in song signalled an expansion of his questions, and by the gods he was going to get them answered. If she has time to scoot over his way. Assuming she does, he'll hold up two fingers to signify how many things he was about to ask.

"First and foremost, I completely neglected to get your name, sorry about that. And, secondly, I'd like to know more about your backing tracks here. Are they in-house? I kinda wanna pick up a rip if possible."

The lamia does indeed notice Kane's signaling, but she signals back to hold on for just a second while she finishes gathering a pile that's easy to pick up once she's attended to whatever he needs. Once she does, she carefully doubles-back over her tail so that no chairs get knocked over, gliding smoothly over to where he was seated. Hearing the question come about just as she's about there, she smiles pleasantly, despite the obvious fangs presenting themselves in doing so. "Oh, me? Name's 'Mercury'." She slides her hip forward just an ounce, indicating the ID tag on her skirt where her name is printed out. "Mom wasn't really too clever with names fer me 'n my sssisters. She even told me she picked mine out 'cause my scales were the sssame color as an outdoor therma'stat." She seems amused at her own story. "But ah, 'bout the music, yeah, we have these tracks runnin' between the girls' acts since the sssilence doesn't really suit this place, y'know? But If yer int'rested, I can run it by Thyrenne an' sssee if she's cool with tossin' ya a tracklist or somethin'." Her conversational tone is very laid back despite having never met Kane before, as if socializing were something she did on the regular.

Behind the lamia named 'Mercury', a young couple are seen carefully stepping over the long red tail draped across a large section of the aisleway, on the way to a seat elsewhere.

Terashi coudln't help but chuckle at the woren girl's eagerness. Even if it was unprofessional, he couldn't help but feel it was rather cute. Once she ran off to get his order, he made sure to place a few gold coins for her to pick up when she got back for her tip. After that, he sat back and relaxed, absently soaking in the tunes.

As he waited, he noticed the music change. Whoever was running that sure seemed to enjoy bass. He didn't mind, but he wondered how those with more sensitive hearing handled it, since there seemed to be all kinds walking around - workers and customers alike. Though if someone did have a problem with the music, he'd figured he'd likely be hearing about it, so it must not have been that big of a deal.

In short order, and apparently taking much less time to prepare than Kane's order (though the socializing probably isn't speeding anything up), the erstwhile woren waitress comes (more carefully than before) padding back through the showroom floor area, holding a ceramic plate with a pretty meaty-looking roast beef sandwich on it, and some crinkle-style chips that apparently go with it! The girl comes around to one side of Terashi and carefully sets the plate down on the table, grinning in a way that seems to indicate that she is proud of herself for such a simple act. "There you go!" she says cheerily. "Can I get you anything else while I'm here?" Her tail flicks back and forth absently, as if it, too, were waiting for a response.

It may be worth noting that, if Terashi were to look around, absolutely nobody in visual range seems to have a problem with the music. If anything, it seems to be bringing up the general mood of the place for most of those present, at best, and being rendered easily-ignored, at worst. It might be a safe assumption to make that people probably expect such music in the company of a nightclub setting, and would go somewhere else if they really didn't want to be around it.

Kane grins this time, an easier feel for the more casual conversation. "Mercury. I'd love it if you could ask her about it, yeah. I'm willing to pay, if need be." He still has some money coming in, a benefit to everything that went down. But he also wasn't going to scalp someone else's work. Background beats or no. "Either way, my compliments to whoever put it together. Really helps liven the place up."

Terashi's polite grin widened a bit as the woren waitress returned. "Thank you," he said plainly, appreciating her demeanor. "That will be all, for now. But don't forget your tip," he added, motioning to the coins he'd left for her to take. With that settled, he looked around a bit, and ideed, nobody seemed bothered by the music. Having entertained that thought, he sat up to enjoy his order, taking small bites of the sandwich with the occasional sip of the water.

"Fer real!" Mercury chirps, still grinning. "Y'know, we get people that come in just to bask in the music. Like, they could prob'ly ssstand to order somethin', but we ain't kicking 'em out just for that. It's kinda why Thyrenne started the whole thing. Just a place to hang out, y'know? But yeah, fer sure, lemme take care of this mess, and I'll go and sssee what we can do for ya." The lamia turns back around, carefully re-doubling-back over herself to heft up the small pile of dishware and carry it back toward the front of the showroom and toward wherever the kitchen is likely to be.

The woren waitress looks, actually, pretty embarrassed at having her tip pointed out so plainly, but it isn't obvious why. Maybe she just wasn't expecting it? The thin fur on her cheeks grows a little pink, but she opts not to say anything about it and instead just kind of looks... flustered, before offering a very quick and partial bow, accompanied by a "Th-thank you very much!" before she quickly speeds off again, accidentally bumping her posterior on the table behind Terashi as she goes. It goes without saying that she did not take the offered tip; at least, not right then and there.

Apparently this is a big night for newcomers, as another unfamiliar face is making their way to the club for the first time. Though, one glance at them is likely to reveal that while they might be new to this particular hangout, they don't seem to be new to the club scene. Avarice came dressed prepared, in a mostly-sheer mesh top, ripped jeans that reveal fishnets underneath, along with their usual combat boots, all in matching black. Apparently they didn't consider the look complete without adding thick winged eyeliner, as well.

After a quick exchange with the bouncer, a leather jacket is left behind in the entry closet, and they enter the club proper. Once they've taken a quick glance around their surroundings, they opt to seat themself not at, but relatively close to the table that is, apparently, reserved. They're curious. Nosy, one might even say. Or at least, that's where they would have sat, and they get as far as setting one hand on the table before it clicks what name they're looking at.

At that close of a proximity to the reserved table, Avarice would very easily be able to see the card placed on the middle of the empty table, and -also- be able to plainly see that there is a name on that card. That name, maybe expectedly or maybe unexpectedly, happens to be 'Avarice,' written in a very elegant font.

Abruptly, the thief's thus-far aloof expression erupts into the biggest damn shit-eating grin, and they approach the table that, quite literally, has their name on it. They don't sit yet, though; instead, they look around for any nearby staff. Whoever glances their way first will be waved over a 'come-here' gesture.

Amidst the busy-ness of the business (especially at this hour of the evening, when people are starting to show up more en masse than earlier), a siren waitress seems to find herself available at that end of the showroom, and notices the lone newcomer all by their lonesome self. She takes a moment to grab an empty plate off a table she's next to, bending forward slightly in order to keep her wings out of the way of other people as much as possible, and grabs another plate off a different table as she talon-clacks her way over toward Avarice, looking busy but not put out by it. "Hi there, hon!" she says with a welcoming smile, as she walks up. "If you want to just grab a seat anywhere, I can be with you in just a minute!" She doesn't seem to make the connection at this time, but then, why would she know who this person was?

Terashi couldn't help but chuckle lightheartedly at the poor waitress. She must have been somewhat new, herself, and it was clear she was trying her hardest Honestly, she just seemed even cuter. Setting that thought aside, Terashi sat up straight and enjoyed the food slowly, being careful in how he ate so that if anything did fall, it'd land on the plate and NOT his suit. He left the gold there for the waitress to pick up when she was ready to do so.

Mercury seems to be taking her time getting back to Kane; it's entirely possible that she's being held up by the influx of patrons flowing in. The next performance is also set to begin pretty soon, according to notable performance times scrawled out on a whiteboard near the showroom entrance, so that very well COULD have something to do with it, too. A quick glance around the area indicates that there are actually a couple of red-scaled lamia on the floor to take orders and assist patrons, but not the one specifically being waited for.

Ava flashes a bright grin at the unfamiliar siren, and reaches for the back of the chair in front of the card. "My seat's right here, actually. Would'ja let Molly know I'm here?" They give that just a moment to sink in, and then wink, the grin spreading even wider on their face. The concepts of 'shame' and 'humility' are things for people who aren't them.

The siren waitress looks at the card for a moment, then back at Avarice, realization dawning on her. "Oh! -You're- 'Ava'?" she says, sounding a bit excited. "She was starting to worry that you wouldn't show up! Go ahead and have a seat, and I'll let her know! She's probably still getting set up, she's set to go up next, here, pretty soon." The waitress smiles pleasantly and backs up a step before turning to hustle away elsewhere, eventually getting lost in the crowd of staff and patrons. Seating is becoming a lot harder to find, at this point, without sharing a table with someone else. Or standing, that's always an option.

There's suddenly a bit of a commotion that sounds like it's coming from a hallway leading toward the dressing rooms and backstage area, which starts out as the scraping of taloned feet hurried toward the showroom, but it's faint due to the large volume of music and general chatter now taking place everywhere within. This faint sound becomes remarkably clearer, though, when a familiar voice suddenly yells out, as she appears from said hallway, "Aaaahh, Ava! You came after all!" Mollianne comes running out from that back hallway, seemingly in the middle of whatever that 'getting set up' was that the previous siren waitress had mentioned. She's wearing a oceanic-blue kimono with a design that looks to represent some kind of underwater-scape, with ripple-effect rocks, shells, and the like, and a black obi around her waist helps keep it closed. Her normally-tousled auburn hair looks like it was in the process of being done-up, but is... very... messy, leading one to believe that her sudden arrival ruined whatever she was in the middle of doing at that point.

Mollianne squeals gleefully as she makes a dash toward Ava, but before she can actually get too far, a second voice is heard from beyond the hallway, sounding very exasperated and annoyed. "Get back here, Mollianne! You can't go out there yet!"

This shout not only causes Mollianne to freeze in her tracks, roughly ten feet or so away from her intended target, but also draws the attention of several other people who are nearest-by, who turn to see what the commotion is about. When Mollianne realizes her mistake, her eyes get really big and she panics. "Aaaah! No, dang, shoot! Hang on!" And, just as quickly as she arrived, Mollianne beats a just-as-quick retreat back down the hallway, where the sound of someone being harshly scolded is quite within earshot. Several of the nearest patrons laugh at this incident, but it is a good-natured laugh, leaving one to wonder if this sort of thing is, perhaps, commonplace.

A few of the waitstaff also are unable to suppress a few giggles here and there, but it doesn't distract them too much from their duties, and the general flow continues as usual.

Ava claims their seat, their grin fading, but looking no less self-assured. They take the opportunity to throw another glance around the club, making a general note of both the types of people composing the staff and customers. Both seem to be quite diverse, they notice -- the man wearing a business suit gets a slight eyebrow raise from the rogue. About that moment is when Molliane's appearance catches their attention and they smirk when they see the disheveled look she's sporting. Their amusement only grows at the comical way she freezes. Raising their voice to be heard over the music, they call out a, "Catch up with you later, Molly," lazily waving before she turns and heads back the way she came.

At some point over the next several minutes, Mercury manages to find a moment away from the din of the busy nightclub, very carefully slithering her way past and around many people on the way back to Kane's table, looking a little flustered but not overly-so. "Whew, when it gets busy, it really hits ya hard!" she says as she nears Kane, clutching a serving tray to her chest. "And I even learned sssomethin' today, no kidding! Turns out we actually keep physical soundtracks behind the counter at the concession stand, 'cause yer not the first person to be int'rested in 'em! Got 'em for eight gold apiece, and ya can go getcherself one anytime ya want." Mercury spares herself a glance around, taking a breath. "I'd love to ssstay and chat for a bit, but no time for that right now. Ya can flag someone down if ya need anythin' else, but, like, don't be a ssstranger around here, okay?" She smiles, actively attempting NOT to be obvious about her fangs in this particular instance, and at least seems able to wait for a response before taking off again.

Kane passes his time by drumming his thumbs against the edge of his table, casually trying to keep an eye out for Mercury. Hopefully he hadn't put her through too much trouble but he didn't think it would be that much of a problem. The antics of the well dressed woman gets a grin out of him, but he manages to keep from chuckling along. Being on stage was stressful enough sometimes.

When the lamia does make her way back over, Kane fixes her with an easygoing smile that morphs into one of excitement when she mentions that one could just y'know... buy the thing. "Ah, thank you so much Mercury. Have a great break, alright?" A nod and a wave let her know he's got nothing else to grill her about, and instead Kane turns once again to enjoying the atmosphere of the quickly filling club.

Mercury gives an acknowledging nod to Kane before turning to meld back in with the rest of the surrounding crowd, returning to her responsibilities and those who awaited them. At this point it becomes difficult to really tell where anyone specific is anymore, and the woren girl from earlier doesn't seem to make a point to return to Terashi's table, either. If there was something being intentionally left there for her, it seemed likely that she wasn't going to take it while the customer was still there. Probably some kind of business ethic or something.

It actually isn't too long after-the-fact that the red-scaled lamia comes gliding back through the aisle towards Kane's table, looking a bit flustered and carrying a small plastic basket with a paper-towel inset. "I'm so sssorry!" she says, setting a basket of lightly-salted steak fries down on the table near Kane's seat. "I don't usually get distracted, and I can't believe I almost forgot yer order!" The bit of redness in her cheeks belies the embarrassment in her voice as she lowers her head in a small bow of apology. "Please enjoy!" And Mercury just-as-quickly slithers back away without waiting for any sort of commentary Kane might have had, apparently trying to keep her head on her shoulders in the general bustle of the nightclub around her so she doesn't make another embarrassing mistake.

Kane smiles apologetically. He would have actually been happy to just get them after the show or something. But, he's happy to start chewing away at his fries. They're pretty damn good actually, and he makes a note to try and remember to tip her. Or see if there's a way to get his tip directly to her. If she was going on a break then he might not see her until after?

Either way, the building excitement of the show was getting him pretty interested in what was gonna be going down.

Ava crosses one leg over the other and leans forward over the table over their crossed arms, keeping a casual eye on the crowd -- still taking in the vibe of the place. They seem fairly at ease, but alert at the same time -- though that alertness is really more the product of ingrained habits rather than anything in their surroundings striking them as threatening.

It isn't a whole lot longer beyond this point when the hopping music gradually fades away and leaves the showroom music-less for period of time, with only the loud chatter and conversation of everyone inside it. The lack of music actually also causes a lot of the chatter to subside as well, as most people seem to take that as a cue that something is about to happen. Notably, a lot of order-taking seems to slow down as well at this time, as a lot of the guests seem to have what they want and are eagerly awaiting the show that, according to the showtime chart, is slated to begin at any time now. A number of names are thrown out randomly by any number of people discussing it, with Mollianne's being one of the more prominent ones. At least one or two comments directed toward her being brought up in conversation seem to be a bit off-color in a disrespectful manner, but such things can't be avoided everywhere. These are laughed off, anyway, for the most part.

As the conversation continues to slowly wind down, the lights follow suit, each overhead light in the expansive room dimming down to a level that just barely would allow people to see anything around them. Even the stage has gone completely dark. Appropriately, a couple younger adults in various spots around the room crack out glowsticks in various colors and brightness, and at least one loud "Whoo!" is heard, which triggers some laughs by a few nearby patrons.

A digital LED display sign, functionally placed directly above the stage where everyone would have no trouble seeing it, suddenly illuminates the front of the showroom briefly as it snaps online with a quick flash of green light, displaying the word "WELCOME!" for a couple of seconds before it slides like a marquee off the right edge of the screen. This is swiftly followed by words scrolling in from the left edge, reading "Tonight's Live Show will begin momentarily, featuring Miss Mollianne performing 'Unstable God'! Thank you for your patience..!!" These words glide slowly across the screen from left to right, also eventually disappearing over the edge and then leaving everything dark once more. A couple of early cheers ring out among the crowd, followed by another "Whoo!"

Ava straightens up in their chair as the siren's upcoming performance is declared, their eyes practically glittering with barely-contained eagerness. The performances they have already seen have given them an idea of what to expect -- but they certainly haven't become any less exciting. "Knock 'em dead, Molly." She won't hear it, but maybe the spirit of their well wishes will count for something.
February 20, 2024

Kane himself, who had been here mostly for the music in the first place, frowns lightly as it tapers off for the main show. He could still feel the beat a little and was 100% setting a reminder to pick up that album. Still with a couple of fries popped into his mouth, he leans forward with the rest of the crowd to see what's about to go on. The title of the performance got a raised eyebrow for sure, the girl who rushed out earlier didn't really strike him as the overly religious sort.

Out of deference for the establishment, he makes sure to forcibly shut down all kinds of recording software, besides soft memory. Some places had problems with Reploids because they were practically walking cameras and had started installing incredibly annoying blocking systems. It was like having static buzz in the back of your head at all times. So, he was more than happy to 'reward' this one by not passively stealing their intellectual property.

The crowd begins to settle much more quickly after the digital announcement is made, and a few more glowsticks pop up sporadically throughout the crowd. Several people, in fact, have actually stood up from their seats, eager to get the best possible vantage point.

A soft blue light suddenly flicks on over the stage, bathing the performing area in a dull cerulean hue. A thin fog begins to circulate inward from somewhere near the back of the stage, giving the stage floor a misty and ethereal vibe just as the faint chiming of a song begins to play over the speakers, echoing everywhere throughout the showroom.

The song starts out low, fading in gently for a couple seconds before Mollianne's voice provides a sudden, energetic burst of song! "Fuantei na Kami-sama, kurikaesu deai to wakare~..." her echoing voice rings out melodically, bringing with it a subtle flute and increasingly insistent drumbeat as her opening lyrics carry on. "Mata aeru, sono hi made, toki kakeru tabibito~!"

Just as energetic as Mollianne's voice, a lively shamisen backdrop plays against the insistent drums, creating a high-energy and deeply-oriental style of music that plays as an intro. Not more than a few seconds into this intro, the curtains at the far back end of the stage abruptly burst open at their center fold, and Mollianne charges forward from behind them, leaving thin trails of fog in her way as she cuts through it toward the front. Her auburn hair is done up in a fairly-intricate half-bun, given that her hair isn't really long enough to account for a full one, held in place by two pairs of black chopsticks inserted at intersection angles from above. As from earlier, she is wearing that oceanic-style kimono that is held closed by a black obi around her waist, the design of the former being an off-the-shoulder variety whose sleeves only reach about two-thirds of the way up her arms. On either side at her hips are two tessen battle fans, folded and tucked away into the obi.

About halfway across the stage, Mollianne does a leap into the air, simultaneously spreading her wings and withdrawing the two fans, unfolding them with twin flicks of her wrists as she twists in a full three-sixty spin before landing in a crouch near the front of the stage, crossing her arms (and the fans) over her chest, giving the audience a broad grin that matches the energy of the music being played in the background.

Expectedly, the digital display over the stage provides a lyrical translation for those not fluent in the given song's language, its marquee scooting in a slow manner from left to right: "O unstable God, repetitious of encounters and departures, until that day when we can meet again, as travelers across time..."

A large portion of the crowd gives a loud cheer as the siren makes her entrance, but not all; some seem to have enough restraint to wait until later to make their appreciation known, but everyone definitely seems to be glad to be there, without a doubt.

With all kinds of recording features turned off, there was only so much Kane could do to translate the song. Which, made the scrolling text a welcome help honestly. The style of the song was a far cry from his standard affair, but the clashing peaks of the various instruments combined with the siren's voice made it engrossing. But, simply sitting back and listening to only the song would be missing out needlessly.

In her second appearance tonight, Mollianne does a much more impressive style of entrance, something he can't help but grin at the showmanship of. He wasn't exactly the clientele to swing by often, but it was lucky he had come tonight of all nights. It reminded him of being on stage with the boys, and the energy they could pull out of a crowd.

This was gonna be a good one.

Avarice considers joining the folks who are standing up in the lull just before the song starts, but ultimately decides against it. They've only just gotten comfortable, after all. They can always change their mind later if they feel so moved by the moment.

They cease paying any further attention to the crowd when the stage lights come on, deeming the show the only thing worth giving any of their attention to.

Shortly after the drums kick in, they start to tap their foot against the ground in time with the beat, the energy of the song quickly proving infectious. And naturally, their eyes are locked on Mollianne's entrance, drinking in that flashy opening maneuver. The rogue grins with her as she poses on stage, unable to help a passing thought about what it'd be like to be up there with her. They shake it off quickly, not wanting to get distracted by their own imagination. They have a performance to enjoy.

Having finished his sandwich before the show started, Terashi could divulge his entire focus on the show as it began. The opening bit... didn't wow him. It was as if something was literally lost in translation. He'd never seen the outfit the opening girl wore, the words she spoke made no sense, and the overly cinematic tone wasn't exactly what he was expecting. He didn't think the performance was bad, or anything - the girl performing the bit certainly seemed dedicated to the bit. But there had to be some knowledge he was lacking that was...

...wait, what was he thinking about? It was about the performance, right? The girl singing on the stage? She had a lovely voice, the likes of which he'd never heard before. He wasn't sure what she was singing about, but it sounded beautiful. Or maybe that was just her voice...

As the intro begins to lead into the song proper, Mollianne straightens and backpedals several steps, uncrossing her arms and refolding the fans to tuck them back into her obi with practiced ease. The music subsides into a low piano melody as the siren places one hand over her chest, bowing her head and closing her eyes as she begins to sing, her voice carrying over the speakers despite the apparent lack of headset or microphone. "Anata ga naiteiru, nagaruru namida no ame; naku na to wa iwanai, kokoro kanashiku~te..."

The mist billows loosely about the stage floor as she sings, never reaching any higher than knee-height and remaining fairly thin; Mollianne's eyes open and her head lifts abruptly as she continues, her expression serious and focused as the percussion comes back in and blends with the piano melody, with the same insistent galloping beat as before. "Ikitoshi ikeru mono, nanika wo seoi nagara; mienai kusari ni, tsunagareteiru~"

Pink flower petals begin to float down from above the stage, fluttering all around in a small shower of floral elegance; a slight, oddly-localized breeze picks up as the first few nearly reach the floor of the stage, lifting them back up into the air and creating a very miniscule vortex of petalous mist around Mollianne, another grin slowly spreading over her face as her eyes remain sharp and focused.

Most of the audience has gone silent and become entranced by the display at this point, though several can still be seen excitedly whispering things back and forth to each other over one point or another. Overhead, the digital display provides a lyrical translation, its marquee scooting in a slow manner from left to right: "As you weep softly amidst a rain of tears, I will not bid you stop, even though it burdens my heart; all living things must bear some kind of burden, bound together and held fast by invisible chains"

Mollianne withdraws one of the fans from her hip, drawing her index finger through a small hole at the grip so that she can spin it idly around her finger, somehow managing not to unfold it in the process as she begins an idle pace toward the right far side of the stage, tilting her head to the side as she sings and the petals continue to flutter around her. "Do~re hodo... suku~wareta darou..?" She turns to look toward the audience, still grinning as she pulls free the other fan from her obi, twirling it likewise around the index finger on her other hand.

"Adokenai..." The first fan on her first hand is abruptly stopped as she grasps it, flipping open to full spread.

"...egao wo..." The second fan on her other hand swiftly halts its spinning, snapping open to full spread.

"...nakushitaku wa na~i~..." The last syllable triggers an increase in the intensity of the wind by a small margin, sending the petals fluttering about in a gentle frenzy about the stage; Mollianne seems to brace herself with arms poised and fan blades open, preparing herself as the music begins to rise in preparation for the incoming chorus.

Overhead, the digital display provides a lyrical translation, its marquee scooting in a slow manner from left to right: "I wonder, how many times have I been saved by you..? I can't bear to lose that innocent smile of yours..."

As the music continues, Kane watches with the eyes of a man who has seen the exact opposite view of this all. Not just looking out into a crowd from on top of the stage, but the hours spent memorizing steps and rationing out breath for action and breath for singing. She was a veteran for sure, part of him wanted to ask her about it after the show.

But, also he's not so foolish to think that was an actual possibility. Shaking himself from getting trapped in his own thoughts, Kane focuses back in with the way the siren's voice and the piano mingle, driven by the drums. As musical styles went he was a fan, unable to keep from tapping his fingers on the table to the best.

Running a solo act like this was an entirely different beast. The cherry blossoms, the breeze, all of it accentuating her presence on the stage. If it was magic she was casting, someone else, or maybe a stage effect was up in the air, and he was probably the only one questioning it. Once again he's taken himself out of the enthralling nature of the action though, both the translations lost to him and some of the splendor.

A couple of fries are ferried from their basket into his mouth. He really needed to think less.

Ava's focus stays properly fixed on the performance as it should, keeping their eyes and ears alert to take it all in. The thing that has most of the rogue's attention, other than her voice, is watching her footwork, and her flourishes with the fans. Almost subconsciously, they feel compelled to closely observe each of her movements and commit as much of it to memory as possible, even as the frenetic nature of the song as it picks up makes it increasingly difficult for them to stay in their seat.

The cascade of petals was pretty, for sure, but not impressive. After the last performance of Molly's they'd viewed, their standards have been set a bit high. Which isn't to say they aren't enjoying themself, more than they can feel the air tingling with anticipation each moment that passes, waiting for that wow-factor moment to arrive.

Terashi couldn't focus on anything else. The sound of her voice was... alluring. He hadn't heard anything else like it. The cinematics might as well not have existed for him as he could only see Molliane. Even though he didn't understand what she was saying, something about her song gave him a distinct impression - like she was calling out to him. For him.

Then something snapped in his synapses and he regained full control of his mind again. Confused, he looked down to not only realize he was standing and about a foot away from his booth, which was embarrassing enough, but that there were green particles flickering about his body, though they were gone as soon as he noticed them. 'Great,' he thought as he tried to quietly return to his seat. It was highly unlikely that he used that technique of his own will, even instinctually, given how enraptured he was with the song. The only explanationt aht made sense was that his supervisor was watching and had triggered it remotely, which of course meant that he'd have to make a report.

Displeased with himself for losing self-control at all on top of dreading what would come after his time in this place was over, Terashi wordlessly continued watching the show, trying not to focus on the actress, or her voice, directly.

The backing track suddenly comes alive with a flourish of musical energy, blending strings into the mix of shamisen, piano and percussion. Mollianne springs into action immediately, brandishing her fans as she proceeds to dance through the bluster of mist and flower petals, her voice carrying clearly throughout the showroom. "Fuantei na Kami-sama, kurikaesu kako to mirai..." She siren pivots and half-spins, striking the edges of her tessen together and creating a brilliant arc of sparks; these sparks proceed to ignite a couple of petals they come into contact with, causing small motes of flame to dance within the wind as they are carried off and disperse rapidly into trace amounts of ash. "Umare... soshite... shinde yuku sadame!"

Mollianne continues to dance amidst the wind and petals, showcasing her fan-flourishing in a well-choreographed and organized fashion, and her wings occasionally spring open and retract to add additional fluttering to the petals surrounding her. To those being observant, certain musical cues seem to be triggers to the strikes she makes with her fans, igniting a few petals here and there to continue creating tiny flamelets in the mix. "Kake chigaeta sekai de, kurikaesu deai to wakare~..."

As the music reaches a fever pitch amidst the chorus, the siren spins the fan in her left hand rapidly, gliding smoothly across the stage to the right and leaving a stream of misty petals in her wake. "Mata aeru..." Mollianne turns on her tip-talons, spinning the fan in her right hand and sliding back across the stage to the left with another gust of floral wind. "...sono hi made..." She then uses her wings to propel herself backwards to the middle of the stage, landing in a crouch as she brings the fans together and across her chest in much the same position as she had for her entrance, grinning across the audience in front of her. "...toki kakeru tabibito~!"

Overhead, the digital display provides a lyrical translation, its marquee scooting in a slow manner from left to right: "O unstable God, repetitious of the past and future, fated to continue a cycle of life and death; Repeating encounters and departures in this conflicted world, until that day when we can meet again as travelers across time..."

It becomes noticeable at this point that several of the waitstaff are taking the opportunity with the slowdown in patron serving needs to take spots against the walls so they can watch the show, too; many of them still have serving trays tucked under one arm and are positioned in ways to not obstruct aisles or walkways, but are no less excited to watch something that some of them very-well might have already seen half a dozen times or more, already. A few people cheer boisterously at the conclusion of the first chorus, and a couple whistles are heard, but the majority continue to remain where they are in silence, fully drawn into the performance.

Much like what followed after her first intro verse, the music recedes only enough to allow the drums and energetic shamisen to take point as a brief interlude, but this interlude seems to be something Mollianne was waiting for. With a roll of the drumline, the siren immediately leaps once more into action, hopping backward and throwing both arms outward toward the ground, the fans in each hand snapping closed. With individual and swift upward pulls, Mollianne withdraws first her left arm and then her right from the sleeves of her kimono up through the neckline, and with an extravagant flourish, spreads both her arms and wings wide, sending a blast of petals swirling around the stage (and even off of it, too, as a few rogue flower bits manage to float down into the eager clutches of some of the nearer-standing denizens of the nightclub).

The act of doing this also has the effect of completely separating the top half of her kimono entirely, which seems to peel away at the waistline above her obi, as well as split apart between her wings in the back, to avoid getting caught on either of them as it is flung carelessly off to one side of the stage floor, toward the back to avoid tripping over it later. In its place is a tautly-wrapped sarashi over the siren's upper body.

Mollianne places one hand on her hip and her other brings one of the tessen up to fan herself under the chin at her sudden partial-exposure, in a very haughty sort of gesture. The drums begin to indicate that her next stanza is coming up, but she allows herself a moment to give a very blatant and suggestive wink as she fans herself, both small fangs showing through an accompanied grin. It goes without saying that this gets the crowd pretty riled up, with many of them physically standing up and throwing out catcalls and piercing whistles of approval. And this isn't even just from the nightclub patrons, even a beastgirl server on one side of the room shouts a loud, "Show 'em what you got, girl!"

With each passing moment the energy of the music and Molliane's performance runs through Ava like a current until they feel it tingling on their skin. Needless to say, their attention is glued onto her, feeling an irresistible, almost magnetic pull, and they're certain that it's not just the effects of her voice. No, it's her presence, her confidence, the passion she exudes while she's on the stage. She belongs up there, and it shows.

The youth loves every moment of it, savoring this moment and the opportunity gifted to them to forget everything that troubles them. There are practically stars in their eyes. When they catch that wink in the performance, Ava's face splits with a rather wolfish grin. Without missing a beat, they touch their fingers to their lips and blow a kiss in Molly's direction.

As the second chorus comes around, Mollianne brings her arms up and together, brandishing both tessen as the edges of each spontaneously burst into dark, controlled flame, flickering ominously as she grins on the other side of the brightly-burning arcs. She begins to sing once more, spreading her arms wide and prancing lithely across the stage. "Kegare no nai kokoro, kuroku some yuki nagara..." With a flick of the wrists and a spin to face away from the audience, Mollianne gives each fan a twirl and launches them into the air, where they proceed to somehow get caught up in the windy petalstorm still taking place all around herself, blazing black trails of fire as they flutter overhead, and igniting petal after petal in their wake. Herself, the siren places her arms over her chest and methodically runs her hands down from her shoulders to her waist in a semi-alluring fashion as she continues to sing, bringing her hips into the mix in a vein of something similar to a belly-dancing routine. "Osaerare nakute, toki anatareru~..."

Overhead, the digital display provides a lyrical translation, its marquee scooting in a slow manner from left to right: "Though a heart as pure as yours may find itself dyed black, you must refuse to be restrained and take flight!"

Mollianne glances over her shoulder at the audience, arms still crossed and hands still upon opposite sides of her waist, flashing what looks like a fairly sad and somber smile from just beyond her wingspan. "Na~nkai... na wo~ yonda darou?" As this last syllable leaves her vocal cords, the flames abruptly and spontaneously snuff themselves out from the aerobatic fans, which causes them to drop out of the air and land with a impactful, metallic clatter on the wooden stage floor. Mollianne's gaze pivots to look over toward where they fell, her smile still hollow and empty-looking as she loosens her arms from around her own waist. "Adoke nai.. egao wa.. mou dokoni wo na~i~..." The drums roll together as they announcing the impending second chorus, and the music begins to intensify accordingly; overhead, the soft blue lighting suddenly rolls over into deep red, casting an angry glare across the whole of the stage.

Overhead, the digital display provides a lyrical translation, its marquee scooting in a slow manner from left to right: "I wonder, how many times have I called your name? That innocent smiles of yours is no longer there..."

As the show advances more and more Kane is able to fully detach himself from his past experiences and appreciate what's on the stage for what it is. A woman with an amazing amount of self control performing wonderfully. And also, perhaps, a little more of an adult showing than he was expecting to find. He wasn't exactly restricted from establishments that were like this, but he was suddenly much more interested in reading the scrolling translation until the tone of the song shifts once more.

At that shift, his eyes return to the stage as the fans go clattering down. He'd missed part of the story of the song, but her body language and the lighting both do all the explaining he needs. There's something coming, and it was probably gonna put the rest of the effects so far to shame.

As the music rises to full power, Mollianne very conspicuously moves one of her hands up the length of her stomach and across her ribs, finding what would appear to be the tied end of the sarashi across her torso. Her expression swiftly changes from somber to fiendish as she puts her thumb and index finger together over this tied end, which suddenly ignites in the same black flame as the tessen had been observed with before. The flame burns with a magical strangeness, most poignantly in that the entirety of her wrapping does not combust along with it, but seems to burn slowly along a single strip of cloth, not unlike a fuse. Obviously, she doesn't appear to fear being burned, either. In so doing, the siren launches herself across the stage in an acrobatic dance, combining much spinning, hand waving, and even the occasional gymnastic routine as she flips over the two discarded metal fans, grasping them off the floor while upside-down, and lands soundly on one knee, slipping them into the band of her obi. All the while, she continues to sing, her eyes specifically averting themselves from the audience as the flame slowly burns away at her sarashi, leaving a trail of thin smoke and dark light across the stage as it follows her along and gradually eats away at the one bit of protection her chest still retains. "Fuantei na Kami-Sama, hikitsuida yume to ai wo~..." She reaches up to grab a fluttering petal out of the air, which swiftly bursts into ash as soon as her fingers touch it, which causes her to widen her grin as she continues prancing about the stage, the mist and floral adornments encompassing her in both a natural and surreal image as the flamelet at the end of her sarashi continues to burn. "Sodate, mamori, takushi yuku sadame!"

Overhead, the digital display provides a lyrical translation, its marquee scooting in a slow manner from left to right: "O unstable God, handed both dreams and love, you are fated to continue raising and protecting both!"

Setting yourself and everything you touch on fire is a hell of a way to bring the intensity. That said, part of this felt lost on him. He had kinda been assuming she was speaking to this god, but what if it was actually that she was the god? Trying to divine the nature of the dance was about as fruitful as understanding the language though.

So, maybe it was better to take it in and figure it out later. Kane's hand finds the forgotten fries he had ordered earlier, which were still thankfully warm enough despite the magical effect of fries to become cold in an instant. Part of him wondered if she was gonna be able to finish before that thing burned up all the way.

Due to his embarassing episode, Terashi tries hard to not focus on Mollianne, focusing instead on the monitor he hadn't noticed before, as well as other aspects of the show. But no matter what he focused on, he felt like he was missing out on the big picture, and his lack of knowledge on the culture the performance was based on wasn't helping anything.

After a while, out of boredom, Terashi closed his eyes and focused on the music, steeling himself mentally whenever the performer spoke. Only in that state did he get any enjoyment out of it. There were too many questions otherwise, and he didn't want to make another scene even if the one he made wasn't that big to anyone but himself.

The rogue in the audience isn't, in contrast, struggling with any sort of self-consciousness or overthinking. They're fully in the moment, eyes locked onto Molly, drinking up the performance. Avarice's eyes glitter, the black flames reflecting in their depths. They're more than happy to enjoy the more provocative bits of the show. They knew going in what sort of club this was, after all, and she always looks like she's having fun with it, so why wouldn't they?

When she enacts something of a gymnast's routine it sparks a grin from them, and a passing acknowledgement of the amount of breath control and stamina it would no doubt take to accomplish such a physical demonstration in between vocalizing. It's, in a word, impressive. At some point they've shifted positions, leaning forward over their elbows on the table, quite literally on the edge of their seat.

"Kake chigaete sekai de, sagasu tabi hikisakaretemo~..." Mollianne twirls in a graceful, double-360-spin, and as she does, her sarashi loosens noticeably as the tightness factor from the amount of remaining fabric begins to lose out against the fullness of her chest, but despite this the small black flame continues to devour the wrapping, slowly but hungrily. Heedless (possibly) of this, the siren continues to sing, still kneeling as she swiftly withdraws both fans once more from her hips and flicks one of them open, then proceeds to fling it horizontally across the stage not unlike a boomerang-style projectile; indeed, and against the petalous wind taking place around her, the fan -does- curve backward and turns around after it reaches some distance away, spinning furiously as it careens back towards its sender. "Mata aeru..." Mollianne suddenly rises and springs backwards in a reverse aerial somersault, launching over the fan as it comes back around and, as if -that- wasn't enough for showmanship, while she is upside down in the air, her wings beat heavily against the air, sending a spray of mist and petals in all directions as they keep her airborne for a short few moments longer. This has the obnoxious effect, as well, of causing her assets to bounce against the last vestiges of the sarashi still holding them in place, because inertia and gravity play fun games like that. The brief updraft from her wings gives her enough time to snap open the other fan and -also- send it whizzing away across the stage, before landing easily on both taloned feet and tightly folding her wings against her back as she does. "...to shinjite..." Mollianne smirks to herself, all the while keeping her eyes off the audience as both tessen (even the one that already returned once!) now curve back once again and come buzzing toward her from both sides.

As the black flamelet begins its final journey along the last layer of fabric still encompassing her torso, Mollianne very deliberately reaches down and... extinguishes it, with the same two fingers she used to ignite it in the first place, before -finally- looking back at the audience and giving them a knowing, fang-laden grin. Without looking away from the audience at that point, Mollianne's right hand extends out at the last moment and snatches an incoming fan out of the air by the handle, followed by her left hand coming out and doing the same with the other fan, as she finishes her chorus with both arms extended and the trailing strap of her sarashi hanging against the side of her ribs, still somehow keeping her modesty in check despite all this tomfoolery. "...toki kakeru tabibito~!"

Overhead, the digital display provides a lyrical translation, its marquee scooting in a slow manner from left to right: "Even if we become separated on our journey within this conflicted world, I'm sure we'll meet again, as travelers across time..."

This display (some for certain reasons more than others) absolutely drives the crowd nuts, and most of the watching servers even get into the act, hooting and hollering to the point where the music is threatened to become drowned out. Many people, by now, have stood up from their seats, and clapping is as audible as the verbal encouragement and praise. There aren't actually very many active waitresses still going around at this point, but perhaps that could be a given, considering very few people -aren't- rooted to the performance taking place.

The energetic musical ensemble suddenly brings itself down several notches, becoming little more than a set of two violins frantically playing against each other as it leads into what is likely a musical interlude, with a short bit of drum providing a backdrop against the former. Stowing her tessen yet again, Mollianne closes her eyes as she faces the audience, and carefully reaches up to dislodge first one, then the other of the two ornate black chopsticks that had been holding her half-bun in place. With a furtive shake of her head, she tosses her hair out back into its normal bob style ('normal' is relative, considering how parts of it stick out in certain places due to being held in place for awhile beforehand), and then twirls the chopsticks between her fingers, one in each hand, while the two violins prepare to finish up their preamble. Right as they do, several things happen in rapid succession of one another, all seamlessly and with pin-point-perfect timing:

Mollianne points the tips of her chopsticks upwards and wedges them against her ribs, poking them underneath either side of the remaining sarashi. When it becomes pretty obvious what she's about to do, she opens her eyes into two narrow, devious aquamarine crescents, just in time for the stage to go black. And this isn't just a "all the lights went out at once" black; this is "magical ephemeral darkness" black, where the light seems to be completely extinguished and impenetrable by outside sources (as is seen a short time later when at least two different patrons proceed to shine small neon lights over the stage, with zero results gained from their efforts; this also receives a giggle from one of the nearest waitstaff, who don't seem surprised at the attempt). Within this darkness, the sound of shredding fabric is unmistakably heard, compounded by the last remnants of what used to be Mollianne's sarashi flying out of the darkness and being cast off-stage, somewhere near the front.

Breaking through the magical darkness, all of the floating petals suddenly begin to glow with a soft, pale pink light, just barely giving small traces of the stage's atmosphere beyond and within the darkness. The violins recede and are replaced by that lively shamisen from before, which takes center stage against a slight increase in drum tempo to provide the promised musical interlude.

As soon as the violins depart, and amidst the insistent shamisen strumming, someone familiar can be seen bobbing, weaving and dodging against the luminous petals breaking through the darkness, her movements practiced and sleek as she somehow manages to play within and around the faerie lights while still managing to avoid total exposure. It is plainly obvious, however, that she is completely devoid of any sort of upper garment at this time, and she comes quite close on a number of occasions across a stray petal here and there, but somehow manages to only provide insistent and consistent teasing as she dances to the music behind the scenes, her grin occasionally painted pink across rogue petals that float across her face as she passes by.

The performance continues, and as it does so Kane finds himself once again of two minds. One part of him is enthralled by the movements and actions. Exciting, to be sure, but the level of skill here! The other part of his mind watches that burning cloth with no small part of trepidation. He was actively worried about what would happen should it burn too fast, so when she finally extinguishes it just before disaster he slumps in is seat, relieved.

Then, the stage goes dark, and the sound of clothing being ripped is audible over the crowd noise. Surely, she was just binding herself with some of the other cloth right? It was a waste of the beautiful fabric but- her top just flew out of the orb. The music was starting up again.

Was this not over?

The sight of the now topless but barely concealed siren proves to be too much for Kane. Or, rather, what lies within his mind. The stage becomes a pixelated mosaic in his eyes, concealing everything beyond a blur of motion. The disappointed sigh from his lips is lost in the crowd noise as he sits back and crosses his arms, working on trying to bypass code internally.

In spite of themself, Ava finds that their attention keeps drifting back to Molliane's barely-there coverage that seems to be growing more uncertain by the second. It's not the primary reason they're here, or the main thing they like about her, but Molly is rather easy on the eyes. Still, there's no disappointment when she extinguishes the encroaching flame, only a face-splitting grin at her general antics. Suffice it to say, they're having fun.

They're keeping track of quite a lot right now. They haven't been paying much attention to the lyrics, though, because that would require taking their eyes off of what's happening on stage -- not that they're particularly bothered by not knowing what she's singing about. An eyebrow is raised when she positions the chopsticks in a pointed way. They're quite sure this is going to be just a tease, again -- still, there's something satisfying about hearing that tear. Ava decides to signal their approval, making a ring with their thumb and forefinger and setting them to their lips to give a shrill whistle. Evidently, Avarice is one of those people who has practiced enough to give one of those obnoxiously ear-splitting whistles on demand -- fortunately, it doesn't last that long.

At some point, they got to their feet; they hardly even noticed. They find themself swaying a little in time with the melody, tingling with anticipation for what's up come.

As the interlude comes to a close, against the blackened backdrop of the stage, all of the petals' lights begin to wink out in rapid succession, quickly leaving the production in darkness once more. A lighthearted, whistling flute motif plays for a scant second or two, immediately followed by Mollianne's voice as she brings up what is likely the final chorus of the performance. Minimal music plays at this point in time, and even the insistent shamisen-strumming has fallen soft into the background. Her tone rings clearly throughout the showroom, despite her lack of physical visibility. "Fuantei na Kami-Sama, kurikaesu kako to mirai..."

Suddenly a single white light shines down from overhead, illuminating the lefthand third of the stage and piercing through the darkness! Mist and petals are seen continuing to float about in an ethereal wind that sustains them as Mollianne's voice continues unabated. "...umare..."

A single white light shines down once more, this time abolishing the darkness from the righthand third of the stage! Between these two luminous showcases, Mollianne still is not physically seen, but given the last vestige of remaining inkiness within the stage's center, assumptions are easy to make. Still, her voice rings clear and true. "...soshite..."

And then, with a loud -shink- of metal fans unfolding to full span, one final light snaps on and beams down over the center of the stage, revealing the siren and relieving her from her hiding place. She stands with graceful poise upon one taloned foot, the other lifted slightly against her other ankle beneath the remaining hem of her kimono. Her eyes are closed as she holds one of the fans over her head, and bears the other flat and close to her otherwise-exposed chest, protection and provocation offered in equal measures by this pose. Her wings twitch lightly as they loosen against her back, not quite unfolding, but perhaps setting up in preparation for what is yet to come. "...shinde yuku sadame!" Her aquamarine eyes flutter open, with one corner of her mouth upturning in the faint vestige of a smirk as those eyes trace the room briefly, perhaps landing on someone specific or the general audience as a whole, it is difficult to rightly tell for sure.

Overhead, the digital display provides a lyrical translation, its marquee scooting in a slow manner from left to right: "O unstable God, repetitious of the past and future, you are fated to continue a cycle of life and death!"

Many catcalls and whistles issue forth at Mollianne's re-arrival, and a large percentage of the crowd are no longer in their seats at this time. And, for some weird and inexplicable reason, half a potato suddenly flies out from the crowd somewhere and lands at the edge of the stage. This brand of unorthodox humor draws a chortle or two from a couple people closest to the stage where it landed.

The music comes whipping back up with relative haste, bringing the full core ensemble back as Mollianne seeks to finish what she started, and she lowers her lifted leg back down to the wooden floor against the other one, her partial-smirk becoming a full and happy smile as she makes with the lyrics once more, seemingly enjoying (more than a little bit) what she is doing. "Kake chigaeta, sekai de..." Her overhead arm comes down and falls over her front, turning that fan's blade vertical as, too, does the other one, given that her manner of ensuing dance begins with and involves a bit of small hops and general bounciness as she pirouettes from one end of the stage to the other, carefully positioning the span of her tessen to account for as much coverage as she needs, but not more than she needs. ""Kurikaesu deai to wakare~!""

She turns suddenly to face the audience, that smile turning from pleasant and well-meaning to something just-short of diabolical. On the specific crash of a drum cymbal, she proceeds to cut the span of her left tessen to half-size, significantly increasing her exposure as the song continues to flow as freely as her inherent wiles. "Mata aeru..." Another drum cymbal splashes against the music, prompting her to cut the size of the right tessen down in equal measure to the other, really cutting it close at this point, but also seemingly aware of the fact that she's positioning herself on the stage in such a way that, regardless of what angle she is being regarded, she still manages to avoid total exposure. To all this, she seems way too pleased with herself. "...sono hi made..."

And then she whirls an about-face one more time, spreading her wings at a low angle as she lowers one arm to her side and holds the other fully-extended to the other side, and snaps the fan open to full span with a flick of the wrist, glancing over her shoulder with a knowing wink as she concludes. "...toki kakeru tabibito~!"

Overhead, the digital display provides a lyrical translation, its marquee scooting in a slow manner from left to right: "Repeating encounters and departures in this conflicted world, until that day when we can meet again as travelers across time..."

Though her stance and finalization of her chorus seems to imply completion, the music does not yet cease. If anything, it recedes into what could be heard as a buildup to one final outro, leaving one to assume that Mollianne may have one last trick up her (nonexistent) sleeve before this show has reached its end.

It's a strange experience, but not one that's unique to this instance. He really should have spoken with someone first, and gotten an idea for what's going on. Kane leans forwards and keeps an ambient smile on his face as he works on his internal issues. Someone who put as much effort as this siren- Mollianne, did into their craft might notice someone being entirely checked out of the situation. Or, she might be entirely lost to the routine, but either way he wasn't going to provide a sour face to throw her off any.

No, the one here with an issue was him. Or rather his programming. The stage flickered between real and mosaic, like a tv channel cutting in and out whenever anything was deemed too 'raunchy' appeared. It's the part of the code he'd never been able to jailbreak, more or less. Thankfully, the part of the programming that would have impelled him to remove himself from the situation was something he could overpower. Still, getting separated from the rest of the crowd like this-

Fuckin' sucked. Yet another thing he'd need to bring up with whoever programmed him some day. At the very least it meant he could focus on the music and singing again, lacking the... titillating visual input that others might be distracted by.

Ava has, again, barely been paying attention to the translated lyrics at all up to this point, but a moment of curiosity has them glancing up at the display during the moments where the stage is dim with only spotlights showing nothing of Molliane herself. Something about an unstable god and repetition is all they catch before the last light illuminates the siren and their eyes snap to her.

Of course. The fans. They should have guessed, really. They had expected either her back turned to the audience or her wings conveniently providing modesty -- but this was a bigger tease than they'd seen in her Festival performance, at the onsen. They're unable to keep the grin off their face at this point, not that they'd really want to.

It's so easy to be in the moment, not really troubled by anything else. To let everything else go, if only for a few minutes. They engage in a little bit of foot tapping, hips swaying side to side with the rhythm as the energy of the music reaches a peak.

They hold their applause as the chorus fades. The sense of anticipation isn't lost on them. Fire, flower petals, another cheeky tease with the tessen -- something is coming, and not knowing what it beforehand is at least half the fun.

With a rolling burst of drums, the music switches into a lasting rendition of the opening intro to play out the last half-minute of the performance in which the drums and shamisen vie for dominance against one another. Snapping her fans closed and tucking them into her obi one final time, Mollianne's wings unfold and bend inward as she turns around to face the audience, her wingtips coming in close against her chest to provide a natural, if somewhat titillating, coverage in place of the darkness or the tessen she'd utilized before. The helpfulness of this sort of coverage requires her to be a bit still to prevent her wings (and other things) from bouncing out of place, but it seems like she's going to have none of that.

The wind suddenly rises in intensity around her, bringing the petals to storm anew around the stage as she gestures openly with both hands, not unlike a conductor. At the direction of her open palms and indicating digits, portions of the wind begin to manifest in tunnels, directing a local flow of petals outward from the stage and across the showroom, scattering petals (and a few napkins) out over the audience, several of which find themselves lost from the localized gusts and flutter aimlessly across floor and table alike. With a big grin on her face, Mollianne pivots, turns, and twists as she orchestrates the flow of wind from various angles against the beat of the music, and makes no large amount of consideration for her state or attempts at perfect concealment; she's simply having too much fun with the finale, and a few slips and misplaced wingtips earn a bit of fervor from several of the closer men in the audience, as well as a giggle or blush from some of the waitstaff close enough to be privy to such witnesses.

In the far back, a small swirl of whirlwind-laced petals are seen encircling Thyrenne, the siren manager, who merely stands in place with her arms folded, offering no more than a knowing smirk despite the bluster going on around her, one that denotes the obvious that this isn't the first time she's observed Mollianne's antics, and likely wouldn't be the last.

With only a very short timeframe left, Mollianne abruptly turns toward the left end of the stage and curls her fingers inward, bringing the breeze back inward and taking a few steps toward that side as the air current pushes against and past her. The siren lifts up on her tip-talons and opens her hands upward, bringing a new stream of petals to catch themselves against the wind, and then just-as-quickly pushes those same hands outward at one particular member of the audience who happens to be seated at a table marked especially for them. The namecard on the table is very easily swept away elsewhere onto the floor as an array of floral motes proceed to decorate this hapless guest accordingly, and the knowing grin on Mollianne's face implies much but says nothing.

And then, with a final chord and cymbal clash, Mollianne's arms come around swiftly to fold themselves over her chest just as her wings (for what job they managed to do) withdraw and tuck back in against her back; the wind abruptly ceases in its entirety as this happens, leaving pink flower bits floating down all throughout the stage and showroom as gravity claims what limited mass they still have. The self-serving look of superiority is not lost on the crowd as her performance reaches its conclusion, and a thunderous wave of applause and shouting quickly follows, both from attendees and waitstaff alike. The siren merely stands in place, her shining eyes scanning the audience from one end to the other as she takes it all in.

This has got to be a mess to clean up. The final act of the dance had only proved to make his programming lock down even harder, but by this point he was used to it. Frustrated, but used to it. At the very least it was nice to hear the audience's cheers mixed in with the music, even if it was a bit more... grown ass male catcalling than he was used to hearing.

Keeping up the facade of someone enjoying the show, Kane leans forward, a hand to his cheek so he can lean on it and adopt a dopey expression. He didn't like lying, but he hated the idea of disappointing someone for something they couldn't control. Idly, he wonders if his fries are still hot enough to be enjoyable. And he still needed to tip the waitress. Mercury? At least the backing track would be an absolute win out of here. And what of the show he could see.

Avarice only manages a brief, slight widening of their eyes when they realize that the final sweeping gust of petals is fated for them. They smirk especially lopsidedly as the floral assortment falls across them, landing in their hair, on their shoulders, and sticking in a few places to the texture of their shirt and pants. Barely missing a beat, the rogue stretches their arms out wide with a flourish and tucks one foot behind the other, posing melodramatically in something of a caricature of a bow, and holding that form for a few seconds.

Tossing their head to free their hair of a few of the petals in it, they settle their weight more evenly over their feet again and join the raucous applause with their own for a moment, before giving Molly another one of those ear-splitting whistles. Though they're still riding the high of the finale, they're forced at last to acknowledge the familiar hollowness that has settled in. An empty feeling, as persistent as an itch but easily ignored until the movement and music came to a stop.

Not that anyone was likely to be able to tell. They're still holding themself in that same easy, self-assured way they always do, a lazy smile gracing their face. That feeling has nothing to do with what they just witnessed; not directly, anyway. They're not disappointed, or anything of the sort -- and they have no intention of acknowledging that void in any meaningful way. The smile stays, and the side of the room where they are simply isn't well-lit enough for it to be obvious if it doesn't quite meet their eyes.

Even as the call of her adoring fans continue to echo throughout the showroom, Mollianne eventually has to depart from the stage, grinning with obnoxious zeal as she trots her half-naked self toward the far back of the stage, clutching her chest in her arms as she disappears behind the curtain. As soon as the siren has physically departed, a subtle gesture from Thyrenne, still in the far back toward the main entrance, causes an extinguishing effect to begin and permeate the entirety of the showroom, as each one of the stray petals, one at a time, suddenly blink of out sight as if no more tangible than the air that had once carried them. It takes a good several minutes to get to all of them, but the room is once again clear, in due time.

As the audience settles down from their hype, the lighting dims and then fades entirely from the stage, in time with the lights recovering in the showroom itself and bringing everything back up to where it was, pre-performance. The large hall is now abuzz with discussion and discourse about the performance that was now just a memory, and all of the waitstaff resume their orderly duties, several of them still grinning as they recalled Mollianne's antics and salacious disposition in the final act. It is only a few moments more before the music from before kicks back in, as well, driving in more thumping beats and techno-heavy compositions to keep the atmosphere energetic.

There is a brief rustle behind the curtain after another few moments, and a familiar siren's head peeks out just a little bit, but the way it is jerked back just-as-quickly implies that someone has grabbed her before she could do something she probably shouldn't, and this theory is enforced with the faint sound of an annoyed whine coming from somewhere just beyond those same curtains. This gets a laugh out of several patrons who notice, but most of them have gone about their discussions and erstwhile-enjoyment factors by this time.

As if she were waiting for the performance to take place so that she didn't interrupt any personal enjoyment, Kane's red-scaled lamia waittress doesn't take too long before she comes back with the bill for Kane's appetizer, actually looking around and behind her several times as she slithers her way up to his table, due to the now-heavy volume of people within the showroom lobby. Thankfully, everyone seems to be aware of the lamia's presence (hopefully because she's not the only one there!) and give her long tail extra berth as they walk along and past. Mercury carefully places the paper slip on the table, offering a grin that shows off her fangs. "Pretty shnazzy show, huh?" she chirps, glancing between Kane and the stage. "And that was sssomethin' tame compared t'what she's capable of, fer real! Prob'ly because it's still a little early in the evening, yet." She smoothes out her apron-skirt as an idle gesture, focusing on Kane once more. "Can I get'cha anything else, hon?"

In tandem, and seeming to come randomly out of the crowd as if she were worried about forgetting, the woren waittress who'd brought Terashi his sandwich from earlier also produces the bill for his meal, laying the slip down on the table nearby and offering him a courteous half bow. "You can bring this to the counter up front when you're ready!" Her tail twitches and flicks in what might be perceived as some sense of anxiety. "Thank you very much! I hope you'll come see us again soon!" And then she hustles off once more, stopping not too far off at another table that she was also waiting on and tending to the customers there.

And then, in what is a bit of time following, but not too much time, a stealthy creature comes sneaking up behind Avarice's table, trying to hide against the backdrop of people still there, but managing very little success because she had the smart idea to set Avarice's table up very close to the western wall of the showroom where there's not much between it and said table. Still, though! She tries so very hard to get the jump on this probably-definitely-unsuspecting guest of hers, and when she's still a good five or six feet away, not really close at all, one of her metallic fans manages to slide out of her obi and clatter against the carpet floor, quite loudly, and drawing the attention of a few other nearby patrons who, actually, knew she was there the whole time, but had played along for her benefit. The noise startles her and she, herself, jumps about a foot off the ground with a soft shriek of dismay, ruining whatever great scheme she was intending to hatch. The not-so-sneaky siren would later realize that, if she'd actually tightened the obi around her kimono, which she'd managed to put back together after claiming the severed top-half on her way off-stage, she might've experienced far more success in her fiendish plot. But alas, perhaps another time.

Once Mollianne disappears from the stage, Ava lets their expression drop to neutrality (though they have been deemed to have what some call a 'Resting Bitch Face', so they look a little less than friendly). They take a moment to stretch, bringing their arms above their head to loosen slightly stiff muscles, and then find their seat in their chair again, idly brushing their fingers through their hair and picking a few flower petals out of it -- but not bothering to do a thorough job of it, so they remain a bit florally decorated. They dip into their pants pocket to retrieve their phone and begin idly tapping away at it for some purpose or another. After some minutes they wind up setting one elbow on the table to support their head leaning against their hand, making them look a little bored and possibly unalert -- though that couldn't be further from the truth.

Ava would have had to live a very different life to manage to stay relaxed and oblivious in a room full of strangers. For the duration of the performance they'd managed to let their vigilance down enough to enjoy it, but as soon as the lights and atmosphere begin to return to the norm, so too does their general attentiveness. They're very much aware of Mollianne's approach. They choose not to acknowledge her right away, either because they're in the middle of something, or maybe because they noticed she's trying not to be detected for whatever reason and they're humoring her. Either way, their shoulders tense slightly when the tessen clatters against the floor, but they ultimately jump far less than she does. Turning to look at her, they allow a teasing smirk to twist at their lips. "Smooth. How'd you manage to execute that whole routine flawlessly and only drop a fan now?"

Mollianne tries her best not to look put out at being caught so blatantly (and through her own blunder, no less), but as she embarrassedly stoops to recover the dropped weapon/prop, her kimono begins to unfurl from around her body and she is forced to use her other hand to hold it closed, where it becomes obvious just how loose her obi is. "Ah..." she squeaks lightly, still squatting. "You know, sometimes things are easier to think through in the heat of the moment." She casts a glance around herself, noting the rest of the nearby populace of the showroom aware of her presence here on the lobby floor instead of the stage, but most of them at least trying to mind their own business. The siren exhales, holding her robe closed and picking up her fan as she stands back up. "I was in a hurry and wanted to catch you before you left. So I rushed! I am clumsy when I rush, I guess."

At the back end of the left side of the stage where a hallway leads around toward the back, another siren, probably a good ten years or so on Molly herself, appears to be waiting in the hallway, but idly so, as if pretending not to be watching the proceedings but doing a pretty awful job of it. A bodyguard, possibly?

The rogue's expression shifts to a bit of a self-satisfied grin. "Gotcha. In that case..." They take a moment to slip their phone back in their pocket and rise to their feet, before stepping a bit closer to Molly. Quite a bit closer to Molly, actually. They aren't making any sort of contact, nor making any attempt to, but they do close to a distance that would be considered pretty personal by most. A loose flower petal comes free from their hair and starts to drift down between them and to the right, and their hand almost reflexively moves to catch it, without ever looking away from her. "Looks like you've caught me. What are you planning to do with me?" Their expression is downright impish, now, their pale green eyes gleaming with mischief.

The 'pretending not to be paying attention' act from the lone siren waiting at the end of the hallway is abruptly ended as soon as Avarice's hand darts out that swiftly to snatch the loose petal out of the air, the motion catching her eye and causing her to push off the wall she was leaning against and stand upright, but on actually seeing what transpired, only a faint frown can be seen. She doesn't bother to go back to pretending at this point, amber eyes now carefully watching between the two of them for the potential of any misdeeds.

Mollianne, herself, is either ignorant or wholly unaware, because her response to this invitation is a boisterous giggle and then a pounce as she wraps her arms around Avarice, hugging them with great fervor! "Hugs are better when they are from behind, but since I am a klutz, you will have to take this instead!" she proclaims. "Thanks so much for coming to see my show! I was so cool up there, right?" She isn't even pretending to be modest, and her tone implies that she means and believes every word of it.

Ava already knows they're being watched, given that the other siren wasn't going to any trouble to pretend otherwise, but they don't seem particularly concerned about it. A hug might've actually caught them off guard if they hadn't just outright invited... well, their intention had been a bit more flirtatious, but they'd actually had no expectation that it would lead anywhere. Mostly, they just wanted to see what kind of a reaction it would get out of her, and now they know.

They slide their arms around her to return it, even giving her a gentle but firm little squeeze in the process. They really don't give bad hugs, for someone who seems as occasionally prickly as they do. "Cool is an understatement. I'd go with 'badass' or something." The moment they feel her shift they'll loosen their grip on her so she is free to move away. "It looked like you were having a lot of fun."

Mollianne grins real big, and squeezes Avarice firmly, herself, before taking a small hop back, reaching back up with her left hand to help keep her kimono closed (which she strangely wasn't worried about doing when she glomped her friend). Her face is a little pink in the cheeks, but she seems thrilled at the response, and may also be coming down off a performance high, as well. "If I used swear words, that would be a good one that I would use," she admitted. "Lots of people have said that before, too, so I am glad you feel the same way!" She glances sidelong toward the hallway, where she very-easily sees the older siren watching them, then returns her gaze to Avarice. "Singing is super easy for me, so all I really have to focus on is the routine. Remembering where everything happens, at what time, and making sure I am in the right spot; it is all about the timing. All the effects are handled from backstage. Cecille is -really- good at her job." She nods emphatically, like she expects Ava to know who she's talking about based on name alone.

Avarice's attention hovers on the color in her cheeks just long enough to make a mental note of it, but they proceed as if they hadn't noticed anything at all. "Seems like you got a real capable crew. Really shows, the way everything comes together up there. I'm just happy I made it tonight. Work's not always predictable." It's an explanation given willingly, one that they want her to have in case they vanish or don't show up when expected in the near future, but their jaw tightens all the same. They really don't want to invite any questioning about it. And in order to head off any questions, they immediately launch into one of their own. "When's the next time you're gonna get on stage?"

It's probably a good thing Ava followed up as quickly as they did, because Mollianne -was- going to jump on that notion of work being unpredictable, as she remembered their last encounter in the alley and the sound of the bird call that beckoned Ava away when they parted ways. But as she opens her mouth to speak, the topic is quickly changed, and her limited memory span instead makes the jump to the new subject instead. "Oh, uhm..." she uhm's, glancing between Ava, the stage, and the siren-in-waiting toward the back. "Actually, I had another late-night performance I was supposed to do tonight, but plans got changed. Then I was supposed to perform -tomorrow- too, 'cause Ambience is supposed to be meeting me here and it is his birthday!" Her tone suddenly grows excited, like she just remembered it, all of a sudden. But then she remembers something else and her excitement falters. "But uhm, probably not tomorrow, either. Probably not for a few days, actually. They are probably going to want me to rest for a few days." She probably isn't trying to sound that evasive of the topic, but it certainly seems to be coming off that way. "Actually, they probably will not want me to go see Ambience when he comes in tomorrow, either..." Her voice drops low, not quite a whisper, but more quiet than before. "...but I will find a way, anyway!" She grins broadly, as if that was just the biggest scheme anyone had ever come up with and she was a clever goose for coming up with it. Imagine, not doing what you're told. The nerve!

The siren seems to think on something for a moment as the pink coloration in her cheeks tinges just a faint shade darker, a weird look coming across her features before she leans in close and whispers something to Avarice. However, this whisper appears to be cut short when a short but loud whistle is heard from the siren attendant near the back hall, who is now looking over at the two of them with an obvious frown. Mollianne straightens and makes a pouty face, puffing out her cheeks in dismay, but the other siren's glare holds. A few nearby patrons give a little start at the sound of the whistle and look over in mild confusion, but otherwise don't horn in at all on whatever just happened.

Ava can't quite keep the amusement off their face at how quickly Molly cycles through various thought processes out loud. They've hardly known her for any time at all, but they keep finding more things to be endeared by the moment. "Damn. Was hoping I'd have something to look forward to a little sooner." Her mischevious declaration earns a smirk. "I mean, would they even stop you? Locking you in your room and taking the key? Don't think that'd stop you if you really wanted to go, anyway." It's said playfully, as they don't actually think that the siren is literally going to be locked up.

The thief is more careful about their expression when Mollianne is whispering to them, taking care not to let it show when what she's saying starts to register for them. They give the other siren an unreadable look when she interrupts, but simply turn back to Molly. "The hell kind of trouble have you been getting into to need this kind of nannying?" they say teasingly (and rhetorically), even as their hand slips into their pocket to retrieve their phone. They know very well what kind of tomfoolery her chaperone is there to prevent. Barely looking at their phone, they give Molly a brief chance to respond as they tap at it in a way that relies more on muscle memory than sight.

"Hey, can I get a picture with you?" Scarcely waiting for the response, they step in closer and lean their head against Molly's, sliding an arm around her waist and holding the phone up in front of them so the screen is visible to the two of them. They wait a couple of seconds like that before tapping the phone a few times, and then step away again, looking pleased with themself. "I know what my new lockscreen is going to be."

The siren's pouting minimizes when Ava pipes up, giving her something to focus on other than the eyes that always seemed to be upon her at certain times. They were so nosey! She gave a slight but noticeable wince at the comment about being locked in her room, because that very much had happened on at least two other occasions prior, though she couldn't really have blamed anyone but herself for their reasoning in doing so, at either time. And then she had to pay for the window she broke when she escaped one of those times, anyway. Her life really did seem like a comic strip at times, when she actually thought about it and had these concepts read back to her. Mollianne felt bad that she couldn't give Ava a better answer than that, but she had rules to follow that pertained directly to her, and considering she was still kind of an outlier in the flock, it made sense that they would be focused on her and the games she played. Millie and Sia definitely never gave anyone as much trouble as she did, for certain. In their defense, she might have more leeway if she gave them more reasons to trust her. Which, unfortunately, she hadn't. So, whoops.

"I do not know if 'trouble' is the right word," she responded, even though she knew very well that 'trouble' was one-hundred-percent the right word. "I earn my keep here as well as anyone else, but I do tend to fly off the handle sometimes." Her grin was impish, one small fang peeking out. "That last part of the act was entirely my own doing, I was technically supposed to stay covered up the entire time. Most of that stuff is not supposed to happen until later at night. I think Thyrenne just accepts it because it gets the crowd going, and that is really what this place tries to make a point of doing; a bored crowd is not coming to come back on the following night, you know?" She beams. "I ought to be the one managing this place!" She gives a side-eye in Thyrenne's general direction, but she seemed busy with other patrons at the moment, and so Mollianne's boast when unheard. By her, anyway.

Avarice's request seems to startle Mollianne slightly, like that was the first time anyone had ever asked her for something like that. Autographs were frequent and widespread, but nobody had ever actually asked her for a photo-op before! It kinda made sense though, given the conversation she and Ava had engaged in where she described her fans' wariness about getting too close to her. If they were too shy to hold a regular conversation, why would they go so far as to ask for a selfie? She was thrilled at the idea, and even more so when Avarice sidled up close and didn't even allow her to deny the request. The feeling of their arm drawing itself around her waist actually went so far as to elicit a chill from her, and the already-present grin on her face only widened in response to it. She held up a hand and made a 'V' sign with her middle and index finger to pose for the picture, but something flickers across her eyes as she looked upon the screen, and whatever it is causes those eyes to grow slightly wider to match the grin on her face, and she gives a solid nod. She then holds up her other hand and makes a 'V' with that one, too, squinching her eyes shut and allowing her goofy smile to take prominence for this specific event.

Mollianne opens her eyes again when she feels Avarice step back, leaving her twin-V's up for a second as she glances between Ava and the siren at the hallway's edge, still watching them with her glowering gaze. Something in that gaze told her that she was going to have a tricky next couple of days, but then, Bettany was always a bit of a hardcase, way more so than even Thyrenne. She took her job way too seriously and could stand to loosen up, sometimes. Her head swam with erstwhile thoughts at this point, her pink cheeks growing a touch pinker over the course of a moment or two; those thoughts were scattered again when she realized that she was coming undone once more, and swiftly reached down to keep herself modest. "I probably should go get properly debriefed from the performance, anyway," she said after a moment. "I kind of ran out here first thing before anyone else even got a word in edgewise, and that is not 'how a business is run' or something." Her tone is mocking, but only in good humor. "I am sure there are more things she is going to need to tell me about my behavior tonight, too, but it is not like that is anything new."

Mollianne did have rules to follow. But, sometimes, she decided that those rules didn't pertain to her. Sometimes.

"Look, I respect the hustle, but how are you gonna run the place with your tits out? You think anyone's going to listen to what you're saying when they're staring at your honkers?" That sharp grin and the playful lilt while they're speaking makes it clear that this is friendly needling and no real disrespect is meant.

They probably would have made some sort of hand symbol of their own during the photo opportunity, but both of their hands are occupied. Instead, they settle for sticking their tongue out and gently biting down just behind a silver piercing through the center of it, a smile showing in their eyes, if not with their mouth.

Eyes half-lidded, the rogue admires the color her cheeks have turned by this point now that they've given Molly her personal space back. They look entirely too pleased with themself at the moment. "Sure. Don't let 'em chew your ear off too much. Start biting fingers if you gotta, that usually makes 'em stop complaining about one thing and find something else to be pissy about instead."

Avarice's blunt assessment of her secondary-defining characteristics and the way she handled herself only caused her to retain her grin. "I do not know if you noticed," she said, "but bikini tops are kind of the dress code around here for employees. But I get'cha! Could you imagine me wearing an actual dress for several hours a day, every day?" Nevermind the fact that when Mollianne had met Ava, she'd been wearing that purple frock from her visit to Hikari's place. "No thank you."

She composes herself a bit, and offers a nod, seeming to at least be in her senses at the moment. "There is a certain level of 'agitation' that I tend to try not to overshoot, because while my bosses being annoyed with me is not a big deal, being outright angry with me is potential job-security breach, and I cannot keep my clinic running each month if I am not making money here." Her tone implies that she is not actually all that worried about it, and is possibly just making a conversational point more than anything else. It's almost like she knows the siren-in-waiting can probably hear them, and doesn't care. She hesitates briefly, then beams a smile at Ava. "I will get a schedule for upcoming events and see about getting it to you sometime, in a few days or so." There is a slight waver in her voice, as if she were trying to keep a straight tone but at risk of faltering. She manages, though!

Clutching her kimono to keep it held closed, Mollianne turns and trots her haughty little self back toward the far hallway, glancing over her shoulder (and lowering her left wing a bit, so that she can do so and actually see Ava in the process) before she and the older siren disappear down the hall. It's not audible enough to make anything out, but there is definitely chastising going on even before the two have left sight.

As if she were waiting for the performance to take place so that she didn't interrupt any personal enjoyment, Kane's red-scaled lamia waittress doesn't take too long before she comes back with the bill for Kane's appetizer, actually looking around and behind her several times as she slithers her way up to his table, due to the now-heavy volume of people within the showroom lobby. Thankfully, everyone seems to be aware of the lamia's presence (hopefully because she's not the only one there!) and give her long tail extra berth as they walk along and past. Mercury carefully places the paper slip on the table, offering a grin that shows off her fangs. "Pretty shnazzy show, huh?" she chirps, glancing between Kane and the stage. "And that was sssomethin' tame compared t'what she's capable of, fer real! Prob'ly because it's still a little early in the evening, yet." She smoothes out her apron-skirt as an idle gesture, focusing on Kane once more. "Can I get'cha anything else, hon?"

The act sure had been something to behold, all in all it was difficult to really imagine such a bubbly seeming, slightly ditzy girl to the show that had just been on. Again, what of it he could see. Thankfully the mosaic blur had disappeared as things came to an end, leaving Kane with just the lingering knowledge that a part of his mind was operating against his own wishes like some kind of disappointed parent restricting his freedoms.

Fun!

Mercury's re-arrival is startling even if his systems grind the reaction of jumping in his seat to a halt. Can't have a bad boy image if you get scared. Instead, Kane hits the lamia with a simple grin. "If that's what we call tame then I can only imagine what it would be otherwise." He takes a quick look at the slip before nodding. After a quick session of pocket fishing he'll pull out a wallet, and then hesitate for a moment.

"You guys accept cards, right?"

"'Course we do," Mercury says with a fanged grin. "N'fact, I'll walk it up there and have them run it through fer ya, if ya want." The lamia seems to use the term 'walk' as offhandedly as any other phrase, despite her anatomy not really fitting form to the method. She glances over her shoulder at Mollianne and Avarice, her expression offering a trace of something unreadable for the briefest of moments (though her grin definitely does not go anywhere) before returning her attention to Kane. "Things tend to lull out a bit after a show, an' everyone just kinda mills around and chatters for awhile from here on 'til the next one. Ssso I don't mind runnin' it up there, right quick. But, like, y'don't gotta, neither."

Avarice watches Molly go, tucking their phone back in their pocket and then hooking their thumbs in their belt loops with a little lopsided grin, head tilting to one side. The angle makes some of their hair fall in front of their eyes, but they hardly seem to notice. They're probably just used to it. The thief winks when they catch her looking back that way, then turns on their heel when she finally fades from sight, their expression falling back into neutrality.

Ava throws a glance around their surroundings, eyes scanning over the various people assembled there, and the staff. If they're looking for anything in particular, they don't seem to find it, as they show no sign of any interest in anyone they see. They lace their fingers together in front of them, turns their palms outwards, and then stretch, bringing their arms up over their head as they work out any remaining stiffness in their muscles. Arms falling back towards their sides, they start on their way towards the building's entrance.

The recollection may not be there for the span of time it'd been since they arrived, but as Avarice makes their way across the showroom and toward the nightclub's entrance, a specific siren happens to look up from a table she's wiping down and notices Ava passing behind her, and straightens with a smile. "Hey, thanks for coming!" she says cheerily, waving her dishcloth in one hand. "I hope you had a good time, and we'll see you around later, hopefully!"
March 23, 2024

Kane grins at the Lamia, Mercury Mercury Mercury, and offers out a card for her to take. "If you could also put that soundtrack on there, that'd be fantastic. The stage performance was fantastic but this?" He grins and points a finger kind of ambient-ly upwards. "This will make for some good grooving tunes later on."

Nevermind the fact that he wanted to try and at least learn a little bit of it. That was one thing he felt pride for still, the almost voracious desire to bring in new music to analyze. That being said? He wasn't going to be sticking around for the next show. He wasn't a fan of his programming going nuts like that but he also just wasn't really a fan of such... salacious situations.

"I'm glad you had a good time," Mercury says happily. "You're not the first one t'come in just fer the background beatsss, neither." The red-scaled lamia waitress takes the card once it is offered to her, a coy little smile forcing one corner of her mouth to upturn a little more than the other. "And don't worry, hon, it's already taken care of," she said nonchalantly, and then turns to slither her way back through the aisle (carefully, of course) toward the front entrance without actually waiting for a response from Kane as to what she could've meant by that, her coils undulating somewhat as she maneuvers herself up the short flight of stairs to get to the higher platform where the concession stand counter is, for payment.

The crowd has really settled into itself following Mollianne's performance, with a lot of folks talking not only about it, but also what to expect for the rest of the night. The overhead beats drown out a lot of the further-away conversations from any given table relative to others beyond the closest ones adjacent, but it's a pretty happenings place, still, all the same. Before too much time passes, Mercury does return not only with the receipt and Kane's card, but also with with a blue-colored jewel case containing a disc inside of it, and a yellow sticky note adhered to its front. She sets them down on the table in front of him, and offers a wink as she turns back around. "Come see us again sssometime, 'kay?" she chirps, offering a slight wave as she slithers on off into the rest of the crowd, adapting a pretty quick in-and-out routine without waiting for much of a response.

Ava wasn't expecting anyone else to take an interest in them, but they pause when the other siren calls out to them, and even give her a small grin. "Yeah, don't worry. This isn't the last time you'll see me, promise. Can't stick around tonight, but I still gotta see the other girls get on stage sometime, too."

They'll have a hard time topping Molly, as far as Avarice is concerned, but still, they have an appetite for live performances that won't be easily sated.

This seems to make the siren waitress pretty happy, and the full nod she gives is indicative of this. "Super happy to hear that, hon!" she says, going back to wiping down the table. "We'll look forward to seeing you sometime later, then!"

Kane himself stands up after Mercury visits by and then dips off. He chuckles at the little post-it note, not having blamed the girl at all but plenty happy to see the effort on her end. Seems like the rest of the staff around here was just as skilled as the performers were. If just in the customer service aspect of things. He signs the receipt, and then makes sure to tip her 30% on top of the price of the fries. She wasn't gonna get away with that so easily. Satisfied, he makes sure to collect his CD, down his drink fully, and then makes his way out the door.

Good tunes ahead.

"You bet. Catch ya next time." With a lazy wave, Ava nods to the siren and continues on their way out, stopping only once at the closet near the entryway to retrieve their leather jacket. Nodding to the bouncer as they step away from the door, they slide it on and shift their shoulders to readjust the way it sits, before strolling on out into the cool night air.