02.17.3014: White Lace and Strange
Summary: Unaffected by the war on the sanctity of the Ring, Imogen, Ren, and Sean talk over drinks. Imogen gives Sean advice to his noble-bedding woes.
Date: 24, November 2013
Related: None
Imogen Ren Sean 


The Blue Nirvana — Blue District, The Ring
Entering through the heavy wooden doors decorated with relief sculptures of flirtatious nude cherubs, visitors find themselves in the tiny waiting room of the upscale brothel and bar, The Blue Nirvana. Only a single, plush red velvet bench sits in the small area, and the walls are covered with a darker, more rich red velvet. Opposite the wooden entry doors is the floor to ceiling black velvet curtain visitors must pass through to reach the main sanctum.

Once inside, light piano music fills the dimly lit air of The Blue Nirvana main sanctum. Unlike the cold steel found in so many other places on the Ring, the walls of the sanctum are covered in plush red velvet curtains and Arborenin cherry oak trim. Larger than the entryway would lead outsiders to believe, this main area is actually two stories tall, the lofted ceiling covered in similar Arborenin oak planks and golden trimmings that flow into several ornate crystal chandeliers that outstretch almost a dozen feet each. A grand piano sits at the far corner of the room, and various love seats and couches made of the same wood and crushed red velvet cushions rest in various positions for privacy or presentation.

A few of the Blue Nirvana's prostitutes relax on these couches, dressed in immaculate, fancy clothing that is sensual but not overtly obscene. Across the back wall is a long bar, again fashioned from the Arborenin wood, where a bartender serves drinks from thousands of bottles, vials and containers lining the wall behind him. The space above the bar is a balcony stretching the entire length of the room, the upstairs wall lined with more heavy, fancy wooden doors that lead to the private chambers of business. The red carpeted staircase gently descends and curves towards the center of the room from the wall to the far right.

OOC Note: The Blue Nirvana is an upscale brothel and bar. If you are at the bar drinking, the working men and women of the brothel will not solicit you unless you specifically signal them to join your character. Also note that this room is still considered to be a PUBLIC ROOM. All sexually explicit RP should be taken to a TP Room. See +news public roleplay for more information.

February 17, 3014

Sean doesn't normally, in fact never does, go to brothels. However, there is a reason he's here. Entering the building dressed in a tunic suit of black with a dark green shirt, Sean makes his way to the bar and leans against it. He looks to the bartender and orders something a bit on the plain side before glancing around. Out of place is written in his attire, his demeanor, and his short gaze… not nervousness, no he's calm and confident but definitely not a normal sight.

With a light shove, the door to Blue Nirvana opens and the dark skirts and flat-black raven strands of Imogen Rose's hair sway through like a ghost before the door closes. With a datapad held between her fingers and inner-elbow, she quietly taps out a message as she passes the waiting prostitutes on her way to the neutral ground: the bar. As her black-varnished fingernails finish the message and press send, she begins speaking before she looks up. "Linc, could you get me a Grayso—" She stops, blinking as Lincoln Dunne is not at the bar. Sean, however, is…but he's on the wrong side.

"It's been what, a month since that night at the club?" Imogen asks him, nodding gently towards the once-DJ. "Did you disappear for a while?"

Ren emerges from the back room behind the bar and he notices the new face. He saunters over to where Sean is sitting and gives the man a rather obvious once over. He looks at Imogen, "Linco's not here tonight." He smiles, "Anything else you'd like?"

"It has been a little longer I think." Sean says as he regards the woman, a bit impressed that she remembers him from that short meeting. "I had to deal with… personal things. Lots of change, lots of change." he then looks up and thanks the man who slides his drink towards him, before adding in question. "How about you?" a glance to Ren, partially recognizing him from that same night.

"Grayson's on ice? It's my go-to." Imogen doesn't so much ask as she explains. Though she's been friendly with Ren over the years, he's behind the bar and she has the privilege of being a customer. It's an order, not a request. The faint smile, however, is for familiarity's sake. The money she slides towards him…includes a tip.

"Me? Well Ren here's been getting a lot of money from me lately. I leave boot-marks in the line I walk from the door to the bar and back again." Imogen's painted lips quirk as she peels a strand of hair behind her ear. "But change is good. Boring is bad, aye boys?"

Ren chews his lip a moment, and then slowly nods at Sean. "How about me?" he asks back to the man, a little bit of a leer to his deep brown eyes as he watches Sean. He glances at Imogen, nods, and turns around to take a moment to make her drink. "If you want something different, Imo, then," he turns back, handing her her drink and then leaning on the counter casually, "maybe you should try something different." He smiles a bit, "Maybe your friend here would want to share me?"

Sean smiles softly at Imogen, "Yes, change is good. This sort of change is just what I've needed I think." He then looks to Ren and hms at the return question and the slight leer, the exchange between the two gets a chuckle. "I'm… not exactly swinging in that direction." a smirk.

"Watch yourself around this man and Lincoln, Schizoid." Imogen intones sweetly as she reaches out for the edge of the tumbler and the clear, alcoholic liquid inside. Tapping her fingernail gently against the glass, her kohl-rimmed eyes turn from Sean to Ren, a knowing look on her slowly narrowing eyes. "They'll tend bar but they're always open for business." Her tongue flecks out as she tilts the glass back for a sip.

"I feel like a cigarette tonight." Imogen announces as she sets her glass down, eyebrows lifting to the two of them. It's an unsaid question. "And my non-Awakened senses are telling me that Ren's about to try to sell me on being the one shared."

Ren smiles at Sean, "Not a fan of the woman." He nods, "I appreciate a man who at least knows what it is he wants." He smiles a bit larger, "Or needs." Glancing at Imogen, he shakes his head, "Relax, Imo. As much as I think you need a good night with me to learn to relax and appreciate the finer things, I also know you're wound too tight to ever be brave enough to admit the need."

There's a soft chuckle, a slow release of nerves that lets Sean get comfortable and confident again. He sips from his drink then looks over to Imogen, "Sounds like he might." before he coughs slightly at Ren's statement about her. He looks to the man, "Oh no its… I'm not sure I'm looking for anything right now. I just have… er, difficulties with the lady and it's been a while." he shrugs, "Honestly it's not that important."

Clearly not getting a cigarette, Imogen's eyes simmer as a stray lock of bangs settles back in over one of her eyes. It gives her time to look to her drink. "You see, DJ, Ren doesn't have me pegged down. He likes to tease to try to goad me into fucking him, or him and Linc, or you and him and Linc, or him and all of those girls…" Imogen jerks a thumb back towards the sofa filled with scantily clad women. "What he doesn't know, however, is that I'm not wound tight at all." She pause for a sip fromm her drink. "So you got that girl stuff figured out then?" This said to Sean.

"And you…" Imogen's arm bends, a finger pointed directly between Ren's eyes like a blaster. Her one-eyed hairstyle frames her teeth as she gives the man a smile. "…you know I'm not some doe-eyed housewife coming in here wanting to reenact her favorite Drake Danger fantasy. I'm a wolf. You're a wolf. Try harder and we'll see."

Ren looks at Sean and shakes his head a bit, "You say you'd like me, but then say you're having girl trouble. Maybe you're more confused than we thought." He smiles widely at Imogen, "I play a mean Drake Danger. Regardless, if you weren't wound tight, you wouldn't deny it." He moves over to where she sits and if she allows, he takes her hand in both of his, lovingly. "I would never make love to you based on goading, princess."

"Ha… um, no. I think I misunderstood your first offer, based off how we'd flirted back at the Siren a while ago. I'm… not into guys. That I know for a fact." Sean says with a slightly apologetic tone, before looking over at Imogen. "Yes, and no. The girl I spoke about didn't work out but there's a new one that's been lasting. The, er, difficulties are a bit on the personal side for her mainly than for me. Lets sum it up with, she's petite… and I'm, not." he coughs then, and takes a drink before fixing his tie.

"Perhaps he's persistent because you give the impression you want to, but say you don't. Your body language speaks frisky, but you keep talking about not needing anything. To me you just seem like the kind of woman who likes to be chased more than you like to be caught."

Setting her drink down, Imogen curls her fingers in Ren's and turns her head to look at Sean. Her dark, makeup-lined eyes narrow perceptively at him as her painted smirk grows. "Out of the frying pan and into the fire then? At least it's not some girl drama. Girls are trouble, all of them. You go from too emotional for your own good to too big for your own good?" Her laughter is musical and husky. "Who's the lucky girl."

While waiting for Sean to respond, Imogen turns to look at Ren. In close proximity, her eyes dance as her teeth bare to the man in a challenging smile. "Don't do that. Ever again. If you really want me to fuck you, you'll never do that ever again. Are we copacetic?" With a laugh, she leans in to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth and then turns to slip a hand into the back pocket of Ren's trousers. Her other slender arm reaches for her glass. "My moods vary. I like quiet."

Ren tilts his head a bit at Sean, "You probably just haven't met the right guy." To Imogen, he just sighs, rolling his eyes a little, before looking back at Sean. "Wait. Did you seriously just sit here and, for no real reason, just tell us that the problem you're having with your girlfriend is that your cock is too big for her?" He looks at Imogen, "Who IS this guy?" He looks back at Sean, "Whether that's bullshit bragging or that's true, telling that to us here is fucked up, man. Weirdo." He shakes his head, releasing Imogen's hands. "He's YOUR friend." And with that, he moves down the bar to tend to a few other people.

"First, I didn't say that. I'm not as tiny as she is… I feel awkward holding her or dancing with her. Like I'll snap her in half if I twist to fast or hug her too hard." Sean states before taking a long drink from his glass, before looking back to Imogen. "Can't really say who… she's a noble." he pauses, "Oh, and I don't go by that old stage name at all anymore. I quit DJing entirely. I work for a big corporation here on the Ring now."

"No, no it's a valid point, if the girl is tiny than everything is on a tinier scale." Imogen laughs and stretches her long leg out to shove Ren's ass as he walks away. "Oh and don't you act like talking about who's got a nice-sized cock isn't total conversation-faire for the Blue Nirvana, Ren. If a guy's got something to brag about he carries that around like one of those black credit cards that has no spending limit. You can't fool me." She winks at his back and downs the last of the glass, shaking it to Ren to get him back over to her.

"So she's a noble huh? Look at you, you dog." Imogen twists her head to the side sharply to get her bangs away from her eye. It doesn't work; it just resets them into place. "But I wouldn't worry about it. Most girls like to be taken care of. You're bigger than her, right?" Imogen smirks darkly. "So you take control? Girls like to be claimed. Is she complaining at all or is this just you over-thinking it again?"

Ren finishes with the other customer and walks back over. "That's NOT brothel talk." He moves around to the back side of the bar. "Least, it ain't talk for the bar. Someone wants to specifically pay for size? That conversation happens much more discreetly on one of the couches." He looks at Sean, "Sorry to hear you aren't DJing any more. I was thinking it would be cool to have you in here some time.e

"Bragging is something guys who're insecure about their size do. I know mine and I'm more than comfortable with it… you want specifics, lets chat in private." Sean says with a half smirk and a wink, before finishing his drink as well. Still talking to Imogen he responds, "Probably me over-thinking again, but it's a valid concern. I don't want to accidentally hurt her when I'm trying to be loving and romantic… that kills the mood pretty quick."

A look then to Ren, "Really? I work full time now and go to school full time… but I have weekend nights open mostly. If you really need someone in here I could do something small. I'm just not doing raves, don't work for the Siren anymore… should have heard the owner when I told them. They tried to double my paycheck but it's still half of what I make now." he smiles again before ordering another of what he'd had.

"Interesting topic, that. Ren? Do your male employees get paid differently based on their length and circumphrence? I'm fascinated by the administration side of your business. Do they at least get a bonus, or is it more of a too small or too large you get less clients thing?" Imogen's fingers ball into a fist and flick her tumbler so that it slides across the bar to Ren. "Buy a girl a drink?"

"Sean?" Imogen turns to look to the man. "I'll call you Sean now, you've earned it." Imogen grins, quirking a styled eyebrow his way. "Take this advice. If she says stop? Stop. If she doesn't say stop? Don't stop. Just pay attention to the girl and do what she likes. Confidence is sexy." She pauses a beat. "So your schedule's not free, but you could schedule a one night deal, right? Not a regular gig but an event to pull in some scratch?"

Ren nods at Sean, "We can talk some other time about it, but yeah. Just a night or two of you DJing." To Imogen, he smiles, "There's no size differential in the pay scale. Certainly, there's too small for this business. No one wants to pay for perfection and get it in miniature. But too large?" He shrugs, refilling her drink. "That's just a client preference. Some folks pay extra for a blonde. Others pay extra for size. If you want something specific, you pay for it." He smiles, "If you'll excuse me, I need to finish the books for the day." He looks over at the other bartender, a girl, nodding that he's stepping away, and then he moves to head back to the office.

As Ren takes his leave Sean just nodded to him and then regards Imogen. "Good question, thanks for sticking up for me like that. And thanks, Sean is perfect. I can call you Imogen, right?" he asks though it almost seems rhetorical. "That's good advice, and I'll remember it. I wish I could see her on a normal basis, it might make things easier… and take care of part of the difficulties, perhaps." he shrugs, letting it be implied that indeed the topic of size did mean that additional tidbit.

"So, aside from hanging out in a brothel at the bar, what sort of things do you do? Work?" Then Sean's speaking with the woman who takes over for Ren and tips his head in your direction quickly. The girl nods and there's a second glass of your fall-back drink being poured along with another glass of what Sean's drinking getting filled for him.

"Imogen is fine so long as you remember I don't have a last name. Like I said, I like to travel light." Her reply to Sean is simple, with an undertanding nod of her head to the man. Is it for the drink, or for the gratitude? It's anyone's guess. "And being a girl myself," She places her hand to her breast. "I can just tell you what I know. Girls like their men to be men; non-apologetic but not too self-assured that they don't stop to pay attention. Show her who you are, and don't try to figure out who she wants you to be. You'll get there."

"As for me," Imogen pauses for a sip of her drink. The alcohol slides down the back of her throat as the ice shifts, and when the glass comes down she looks away to gently breathe out the fumes. "I just do office-work, administrative stuff. Nothing too interesting. I do a lot of work from home, some office stuff." She smiles quietly to him. "I lead a very private life, Sean, it's why I come out to the zoo that is this stupid little space station to see how the animals interact. I come out, have my fun, then go home to my little cave where I don't have to worry about some overnight boyfriend digging through my fridge."

Sean nods before he takes a good drink of his own then keeps the glass in hand and scans the brothel. One of the women on the couches winks at him and smiles, he gives her a smile in return before turning back to you as you explain. "Then we're somewhat similar. My home is my private space as well, not one media hound has ever even snooped around the front door. Although… I do have a roommate now. Old friend, needed a place to stay and I wasn't going to say no." a slight shrug, clearly there's something else to it that he's leaving out.

"And, we're a bit similar in the job field. I just got into office-work. Glad I don't work from home though… I'd break my own stuff when I get frustrated and that wouldn't be fun. Can you tell me how it is possible for someone to fuck up while you're explaining the process to them step by excrutiating step?"

"Roommates, tsk, couldn't handle it." Imogen's flat-ironed-to-perfection hair sways side-to-side as she shakes her head in the negative. "Ren likes to talk me up like I'm a frigid bitch, but I'm not. I have my fun, just on my terms. I might even take him up on the offer someday but what I won't do is take someone home. I don't even want people knowing where I live." She shrugs, looking down to her clear glass of clear alcohol with opaque ice cubes. "Sometimes you want the quiet. Sometimes you don't. The moment you cross that line, though, you open yourself up for intrusion."

With another shrug, Imogen gets over it and smirks to Sean, head tilting just enough to uncover her other eye. "How's this roommate of yours coping? You want to pull her hair out yet?"

"I never got the impression you were really all that cold, just turned off by some things." Sean states, taking a sip then nodding again. "You know, I had a reputation as being a prick and the only reason I got that reputation is from not sleeping with fan girls. Didn't matter if it was a hotel room, my home, or where ever my girlfriend at the time was staying. It was sanctuary." then he leaves a heavy pause there.

"Eden? No, she's cool. When we were kids we used to share the same bed a lot cause she'd sleep over all the time. We're so used to it now that it's like the past several where she was gone haven't happened. The only thing is… how much I want to sleep with her and how much I don't. She's fucking hot, sleeps right next to me, and I both want to and don't want to touch her. Never thought that would happen to me." he chuckles.

"You mentioned something like the last time we talked. It was why I was giving you so much shit. That rockstar thing gets a laugh out of me because the girls that fall for that kind of deserve the walk of shame. Oh groupies." Imogen laughs down into her drink, raising the glass to press the cool ice against her temple. "But I think I also said you were smart for that, which you were. Once you feed a puppy on your porch, right?" She winks over the rim of her glass, pausing for a sip.

"Eden huh?" She whistles quietly. "She's sleeping in your bed, so let me get this straight. You went from not bringing your groupie-trash home and not wanting anyone near your privacy?" Playfully, Imogen rights her head so that her bangs fall over her eye and she gives his chest a little shove. "Want more advice?" She pauses; doesn't wait for an answer. "The only girl that sleeps next to a guy she doesn't want to fuck is either sleeping next to someone who's gay….or she's eight years old. Come on, Sean. Lie to me and tell me you think she doesn't honestly want to fuck you."

"Groupies… pains in the ass really." Sean agrees before he laughs at the question. "Yes, she sleeps in my bed. And she doesn't want to have sex with me. That I'm sure of. We're great friends, and we're adults. We don't have to be having sex in order to share a bed, room, and apartment together…" his tone dying as he says it, belief in his words going out the window with his confidence. "Right, like I said. I do and I don't want to, she's hot and amazing and has always stuck up for me, but she's also my closest friend. And besides, there's no real magic between us like that. I might say I'd kiss her but never have and probably never will."

Folding her arms under her breasts, Imogen lets the glass of alcohol dangle from her fingers over her hip. Once again, her eyebrow lifts, the threaded arc of hair curling curiously while Sean speaks. As he finishes, her lips curls at the side in a knowing look meant to try to disarm the former DJ. "All because you let someone into your home." She tsks again, tongue clicking over her teeth. "If she honestly just doesn't want to sleep alone, and you sleep with her or even make a move, you're going to have to live with that. It'll get fucked up and you'll find yourself saying that you should have never ended your no-contact policy."

"I think I can sleep next to her for two months and deal with any awkward mornings as they happen. She's not been the most… committed person in her life, so if she's still there in two months then I'll be getting her set up with her own area and bed." Sean says after a final drink and thoughtful moment. He sets the glass down and then orders just water for now. "Not to mention I am seeing that noblewoman. Though, that's partly why I thought to come in here… on the fence still about it but." he pauses and shrugs.

"You were considering coming in here to get some tail to kill your commitment to this noblewoman? To lock it down that you're playing the field?" Imogen asks, phrasing the situation back to the man to make sure she understands the whole of it. Scowling, her slender shoulders rise and fall in a shrug as she finishes the last of her drink. "This is why I don't date. I won't get pregnant, I won't get sick, and I sure as fuck won't get a fish hook stuck in me that's harder to get rid of than it was to get in the first place."

"Not playing the field… just have comfortable casual sex where I'm not worried about causing pain more than pleasure." Sean states, this time rather straightforward about it. "If the noblewoman wanted to stop seeing me, I'd be hurt sure but I'd deal with it. If nothing ever comes about from Eden, that's fine too. Hell, I don't have to be seeing someone. It's nice and I'll work at it, but if it fails then I'll just keep on going to work and going to school until I get my doctorate and move up in the company or find better."

With a turn of her head, Imogen lowers her dark lashes in the direction of the prostitute that was paying mind to the man beside her. Reflecting over her, Imogen drums her painted fingernails over the rim of her glass. "Well, you've definitely got a girl giving you the eye." Imogen replies to Sean, glancing over to him as she turns and sets her glass on the bar top. "Whatever you do, be sure you're fine with the fallout, and we can know each other, Sean, but I reserve the right to be honest with you. I will laugh at you if you swan dive into quicksand."

That gets a laugh from Sean and short shake of his head, "I don't know what I was thinking… I probably never actually intended to do anything despite all the reasons I used to psyche myself up into coming here." A side long glance at the woman on the couch, "I look at them, and I can see are fan girls fawning over me. It's really a turn off to me." He downs his water and then chuckles again, "If I do that, then it'll be as graceful as though I've practiced it." he sends back with a smirk, "Perhaps I can bring Eden along to meet you at some point. Or you might have actually seen her already. She dances with poi, mainly old style LED ones, as a street performer almost everywhere you can think of that draws a decent crowd."

"I might have, I don't know. I don't stop for many things heading through the bazaar. If you stop for one thing, you get hooked, it turns into a mess. I usually have my go in, go out plan settled." Leaving a tip for the backup bartender, Imogen glances over herself and straightens the front of her dress, preparing to leave. Reaching to her datapad, she pulls a pen from a pocket and flips over a bar-coaster. Scribbling quickly, she hands it over to Sean. "I am not your psychiatrist and I am not your mother, alright? We'll go get some drinks and see this girl dance. If you wake me up with that number with nothing less than an emergency I will skin you alive, deal?"

"Deal." Sean says firmly, before tucking the coaster into his pocket. He pulls out a business card, "Cliche, I know, but it's effecient. Thanks for the company Imogen, and I'll talk to Eden tonight about it." He stands then leans over the counter to speak with the woman and take care of the bill, leaving a decent tip on the counter.

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