[Sodium_noir] Club Harlequin, where the lights dim

[eagandigh]

Harle, Colombine & Gang, Maurice
Ravnos Superstars & Band, slightly irate Serpent
Club Harlequin
 
Maurice entered the Club, taking it delibaretly slow. He needed to get a
grip on his emotions. The night had started with a feeling of ... , well
it was indescribable. Then he had been attacked by a teenager with
delusions of super pimpdom. Then he had learned that the Bitches were
still around and in league with demonic forces. He didn't like either.
And to add insult to injury, a couple of stupid cops had dared to stop
him for a damn bloody traffic control! He was of a mind to turn around
and find that car and tear those stupid fucks to shred. And now, while
he walked into Club Harlequin, he wasn't sure he liked how Antoine began
to decide by himself how the gang should act. Well, he had groomed him
to exactly do that, to steer and control the Children, while Maurice was
away or busy with different issues, so that the Bêtenoir knew that the
filles de la nuit would be in capable hands. But still, it irked him
somehow.
 
The Club was as he remembered, opulent, decadent, the perfect place for
illusion and mummery. Maurice had stopped at the entrance and surveyed
the scene, resting both hands on the pommel of his cane. The club was
quite empty. It seemed as if the place to be and be seen was somewhere
else tonight. Which suited Maurice. He saw the Harlequin sitting with
three strange women at the bar and he seemed quite comfortable with one
of them. Maurice took in her outfit and raised an eyebrow admiringly.
One of the other two seemed to be lost in fits of laughter. Maurice
slowly moved to the opposite part of the bar and sat down, quite visible
to the group. If he remembered correctly, the Harlequin had a sweetheart
among the staff of the club. It seemed like someone got dumped, it
seemed like someone better came along. He decided to wait at the bar
until Harle noticed him and came over. It would have been very impolite
to just barge into that strange little gathering. He fumbled around his
coat pockets and finally withdrew a cigar. He lighted it and drew in the
smoke deeply (one of the advantages of being not quite alive anymore)
and exhaled it slowly.
 
[ Let me take you to the place
Where membership's a smiling face,
Brush shoulders with the stars.
Where strangers take you by the hand,
And welcome you to wonderland -
>From beneath their panamas...
 
Club Tropicana, TAGS are free]
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