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Anthony de la Longine

"Nothing wrong with appreciation."

0 · 292 views · located in Detroit, Michigan

a character in “The Midnight Lounge”, as played by OurStars

Description





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"I've decided not to deny myself the little joys in life."




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F u l l N a m e ?
Anthony Louis de la Longine






O t h e r N a m e s ?
Just Anthony.





G e n d e r ?
Male






A g e ?
Twenty Years of Age






O r i e n t a t i o n ?
Strictly Heterosexual






H o m e t o w n ?
Detroit, Michigan






R o l e ?
The Madam's Son




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P e r s o n a l i t y ?
Well, the first word that probably comes up if one were to ask someone about Anthony le da Longine would be arrogant, and this is not without reason. The young man is not known for humility, and years of getting what he wants, whether it be handed to him or require just a wee bit of flirting and manipulation, have sculpted an expectation that things will go according to plan- his plan, that is. Sure, he isn't above putting in a little elbow grease should the situation call for it, but he is accustomed to eventually seeing the desired results. In his eyes, nothing is completely outside of his grasp, whether it be money, women, power, or anything else under the atmosphere. His arrogance is quite clear in the way that he carries himself, from the perfect posture to his saunter, and yet seems to switch off between unbearable and charming, depending on the perspective of those who are around him at the time.

Of course, he is a charmer by all means, and certainly a bit of a manwhore. He knows exactly what to say in order to get the desired reaction of a person, and does not seem to have much in the way of restraint about chasing after girls when he wants them. It isn't exactly much of a chase, usually, as his good looks and smooth words give him an air that seems to pull the ladies towards him. He has had girls throwing themselves at him since he was sixteen years old, and has never once had an actual objection to it, though he may jokingly sigh about 'how hard it is to choose', or something along those lines. There isn't a girl in the Lounge, excepting his sister, of course, that he hasn't made some sort of pass at, and he has slept with a good deal of them, even if they don't all care to admit it. Sure, his mother forbids her children from having relationships of any kind with the employees, but that hardly stops the smooth-talking gentleman with the dancing eyes and the alluring smirk. His voice sounds like money and sex and sometimes a bit like the morning after, and that paired with his ability to throw out quotations from poetry and novels makes him quite gifted at pulling people in. Of course, he doesn't really like to keep them in, not being the sort of young man who deals well with any type of long-term commitment. Whether he finds it dull or restricting, he just doesn't do serious relationships.

Believe it or not, for all of his arrogance and manwhore-esque ways, Anthony can actually be quite the sweetheart when he wants to, or has to, be. This mainly seems to apply to his mother and sister, whom he treats like queens, even during fights, and would not hesitate to kill for. While he may be jumping girlfriends to the point where he forgets their names, he never forgets a birthday or special occasion, and will show up for events even when he has made a big show about being super packed and not sure whether he can fit them into his schedule. His family is his life, though of course he would hardly admit that to anyone, even to himself. He can be sweet to others as well, actually quite good at guessing the desires and wants of others, and able to oblige if he so fancies. He may not pay the girls he sleeps with, but the young man does drop little gifts here and there for those he is with regularly- chocolates here, a weird rock there, an old book, etc. He may not be a hopeless romantic, but he is reasonably sweet and can play the part if need be.

Anthony is a large believer in appreciating the little things in life, like a girl with a beautiful mouth or a piece of poetry capable of transcending all boundaries. He is impulsive and lacks restraint, not bothering to stop himself from appreciating something lovely, even if it inconveniences others. In that way, he can be rather selfish, but something of an artist as well. Not the sort who records what they see visually or in writing, but an artist of the senses- he sees and notices, even if he can't communicate those things to other people. Despite a personality that one may associate with a lackadaisical person, he can be determined when he wants to be, and refuses to back down once he has decided that he wants something. His work ethic is quite shocking if one catches him at the right time, even. He takes pride in what he does or makes- even if it just a drink at a fake bar that fronts a prostitution business.

L i k e s ?
+Women "I feel like this is fairly self-explanatory, don't you?"
+Beautiful Things "I do not deny myself the simple pleasures in life- and that includes beauty."
+Alcohol "I don't have a drinking problem, but I do enjoy a slight buzz now and again."
+Poetry "I've liked it longer than I've liked women- it has helped to be able to quote a few lines, though."
+His Mother and Sister "We may not always agree, but they are my family, and I will not hesitate to kill for them."
+The Chase "Sex is a lot more fun knowing it wasn't cheaply thrown out, believe it or not."
+Lollipops "What? A guy can't like a piece of candy?"
+Tailored Clothing "You can place me in a rundown apartment with no utilities, but at least give me my suits."
+Himself "What's not to like? Well, don't answer that."




D i s l i k e s ?
-Cigarettes "You dropped something, babe- my life expectancy."
-Coffee "Smell makes me want to gag. I'd rather have tea or something of that sort."
-The Color Yellow "Nothing is more obnoxious than a girl in yellow."
-Rejection "Well, I assume I wouldn't like it, anyway. Knowing for sure would require past experience."
-Nosy People "I assure you, if I wanted you to know, you would."
-Fish "The food, specifically. I don't care how well cooked it is, the scent will make me gag."
-Milk "So, maybe I'm lactose intolerant. Whatever. You know what is in milk? Cow puss. Think on that."
-Easy Girls "I mean, what's the point?"

S t r e n g t h s ?
Manipulation "What can I say? It doesn't really take too much, honestly."

Seduction "I grew up around the best in the business and, not to toot my own horn, girls aren't exactly often rejecting me. Not for long, anyway."

Memorizing "Hey, I'm no idiot. In fact, I'm pretty good at committing things to memory, if I do say so myself. Including poems- especially those."

Cooking "You can call it uncool if you like, but I'm pretty handy in the kitchen- in more than one way."

Soccer "I've been on teams since I was around seven, so at this point I'd like to think of myself as pretty good. Don't really play on a team anymore, though."

W e a k n e s s e s ?
His Sister "What? Touch my baby sister and I'll kill you. And I don't spoil her! Shuddup."

Dairy "Yeah, I'm lactose intolerant. Problem?"

Children "They're so young and innocent. It's a love-hate relationship."

Art "I'm not exactly this generation's Van Gogh."

His Mother "Once again, mess with my mom and I'll slaughter you. Though she can normally handle herself."

F e a r s ?
Losing his family "It may sound sappy, but I don't know what I'd do if something happened to Haley and Mom."

Commitment "I just don't think I'd be good at it. Maybe I'm too much like my dad? Oh, god."

Large Dogs "Okay, you know what? Those things can be vicious. I was attacked by one when I was little, you know. Vicious."





By no means can Anthony claim to have had a normal childhood, having gone from a wealthy young heir to the son of a Madam, no real average life in between. He was born in September of 1992 to George and Evony Conrad, members of Detroit Aristocracy, of sorts anyway, and two of the most influential people in the large and constantly evolving city. From the first week of his birth, he was expected to follow in his father's footsteps and join the family business. Honestly, it didn't really occur to him, being so young, that his father was thirty years older than his mom, or that the two never seemed really affectionate with each other. Having nothing else to compare it to, he simply believed that to be the norm among families, and so lived those initial five years quite happily, given everything his heart desired and being doted upon by both his parents and the house help. He was sweet, but only because he always got his way and therefore had no motivation to be a sour or troublesome child. Temper tantrums are unnecessary when you get things the instant you ask after them.

When the young boy was four years old, hardly more than a toddler if not still considered to be one, he went to the park with one of his friends. The playdate was quite fun, for he and the girl, whose name he has by now long forgotten, were the best of friends back in their younger days, and were constantly chasing after each other in energetic games of tag or simply horsing around. In a game of hide and seek, he wandered off to the gardens by the park, which was rather upper class, being in a wealthy area of the city. There, the boy found himself staring at his father as Mr. Conrad was embracing a younger woman who he instantly identified as not his mother. His father spotted him, and smilingly told him that the lady was just his 'hugging' friend, and that he shouldn't tell mommy because then she would be upset, and Anthony wouldn't want that, would he? Of course, Anthony dutifully kept this secret from his mother, but it couldn't be hidden from Evony for long. One year later, mommy told him that he and his little sister, who was only three at the time, were moving away from daddy with her. She said that she and daddy didn't get along anymore, and that daddy had his 'hugging friend' anyways. Thus, the first five years of his life, abnormal but at least a bit less bizarre, came to a close.

And as one book closed, the other opened. This one was more exotically bound, filled with reds and golds and illustrations of beautiful women and wealthy men. There was no moment of instability, of course, because settlement money kept the family stable between shifts, though there was only a short period of time before Anthony found himself, six years old, surrounded by beautiful women and drunken men, sneaking down from his bedroom at night with his baby sister to watch the storefront. His mother forbade it at first, perhaps mostly because she didn't want her children exposed too early, but it was a lost cause to keep Anthony from wandering down. Besides, when he became brave enough to venture out, it was soon clear that he was a little charmer, all smiles and funny little compliments for his mother's employees. He was absolutely adored by the workers, and rather liked the attention himself.

In this environment both Anthony and his younger sister grew up, though he intuitively knew not to share details of their home life with the other kids, before being told not to by others. After all, even though they were raised in this world, it was clear that others did not have a very similar domestic life, talking about dull things such as the bonus their accountant father had just gotten, or how their mother makes terrible mac'n'cheese. When she grew older, Haley did nearly spill, and thereafter was homeschooled. However, though Anthony always very much wanted to boast about how interesting his life was, he restrained himself, because he was proud, not stupid. Of course, he was popular at school without needing the help of a fascinating home life. The boy, after all, was cute from a young age, all blond ringlets and pearly white smiles, and he was athletic- which goes a very long way in elementary school, regardless of gender or charm. In a word, Anthony would describe his world as being 'ideal', even at that young age.

In fourth grade, the young boy was read a poem by one of his mother's employees, and was lent the poetry book afterwords. Believe it or not, the young man has quite a love for poetry, and it isn't unusual for him to quote it when flirting with someone who he believes may appreciate such eloquence. At the same time, around fourth grade, he began to become popular in other ways besides simply having many friends and being a center of attention. He was one of those silly boys who had girlfriends in elementary school and claimed that it meant something. Of course, by seventh grade or so he had come to decide that relationships weren't supposed to be long-term, because that was absolutely boring. Wasn't that why people came to the Midnight Lounge? It wasn't because they were seeking a large commitment, after all. He learned from the people who came to the Midnight Lounge, but also learned simply from being part of that atmosphere. While his sister learned to flirt and get past her socially inept past, he flourished further. At the same time, he became more protective of his younger sister growing up in that environment, sharing his mother's concerns that she might be hurt in this world. He began fearing for that very early on, but of course never thought the same thing for himself.

The first time that the young man slept with a girl was ninth grade, but at that point it wasn't one of her mother's employees. Even he knew that they wouldn't fall for a kid, and he still was one, though a rather dashing one, when he was fifteen years old. He hadn't hit puberty yet, and was a rather scrawny child, though still had a bit of muscle thanks to being very enthusiastic about Soccer. He made varsity his freshmen year, actually, the youngest person on the team at the time. And, obviously, he didn't mind that at all- it only gave him yet another thing to be proud of. By that point, his arrogance was quite notable, but so was his ability to talk smoothly to others. He knew the tricks to get a person to do what you wanted, having picked it up from his mother's employees, and definitely used them. The kid got away with a lot of shit that others wouldn't have only because most of his teachers absolutely doted on him. Hell, in tenth grade he had a fling with his Math Teacher, a young woman who was rather easily swayed. Over the summer that year, Anthony hit a growth spurt. After that, he didn't really have to worry about his age getting in the way of him being able to have any girl he wanted, because the young man was tall and attractive, the latter part following suit of his family's good genes.

His mother might've noticed that, because Junior year she officially forbade him from sleeping with any of her girls. However, he had begun spending a lot more time at the Lounge, especially when she let him work at the bar in order to make a little money on the side for himself. He was soon rather popular among the girls, though, like him, they weren't taking anything very seriously. He had girlfriends and such outside of the Lounge, but normal girls just couldn't seem to compare to the trained beauty and playful seductions of his mother's girls. After all, they were professionals, and all other girls paled in comparison, hardly worth more than a glance or a one-night stand.

When he graduated from high school, Anthony chose a local school so that he could stay close to home- unusual, perhaps, for an independent teenager, but not all that inexplicable if one remembered the lifestyle that he could live at home. Besides, he had decided in tenth grade to not deny himself the little joys in life, and that included the company of beautiful and experienced women. So he goes to school during the day and works at the Lounge at night, and enjoys life very much. There probably isn't a girl at the Lounge whom he hasn't played around with a bit- it's almost an initiation. And he doesn't mind that one bit. After all, a gal has to be gorgeous to get in, anyway.

His most recent favorite, though, is one Regan Monaco -He refuses to call her Ray J- an Italian babe with an obviously dark past and a killer body. Although he doesn't mind her company, Anthony doesn't really see her as any different than other girls that he has played around with before- not at the moment, anyway. Of course, he has no idea about the little bun she has in her oven.


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So begins...

Anthony de la Longine's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Ivory Peirce Character Portrait: Anneka Vanity Character Portrait: Clara Jane Mason Character Portrait: Evony de la Longine Character Portrait: Kaydence Dixen Character Portrait: Anthony de la Longine Character Portrait: Regan Monaco Character Portrait: Haley de la Longine Character Portrait: Jasper James
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“The Midnight Lounge, how can I help you?” Evony answered the phone crisply, her voice laced with smooth confidence and an air of business-like authority. It was a tone Evony had come to perfect over the years, as answering the phone seemed to be a constant staple in her life; sort of an occupational hazard that came with her line of work. It was exactly the tone a man wanted to hear when doing business in this field. They didn’t like to be pestered, or have to go through the formalities, especially her wealthiest clients. And Evony was well adapted to catering for those types.

”Miss de la Longine, it’s Lucian Norton.”

“Ah, Mr Norton,” her voice oozed professionalism, “Confirming your appointment with Ray J, I assume?”

“Yes, eleven thirty tonight?” he asked. Mr Norton ran a hedge fund in the city. He was in his mid-four ties, and had a wife who he lived with yet didn’t speak to, and four daughters in their teenage years. He had a regular booking with Ray every fortnight on a Wednesday evening. He was the kind of man who checked everything, even the tiniest things. Under his watchful eye, not a single appointment, figure or date went unchecked. He was a perfectionist, but he was wealthy and used her services, which was all that mattered to Evony at the end of the day. Of course, she liked to have some degree of knowledge about her clients but, to her, business was everything. She was cut-throat and she didn’t like failure.

“That’s when I have you down for, Mr Norton,” she informed him.

“Perfect. Good evening,” he replied, before hanging up.

Evony set the phone down on her nightstand, a beautiful little circular table crafted from a deep purple marble. It rested on three golden metal legs, arranged like the points of a triangle, beside her four-poster bed. The bed was adorned completely in white bedding; white duvet, white sheets, white throws, white cushions. Thin, white strips of material swept up towards the top of the bed, winding along the wooden columns that held up the canopy. The wood was painted in the same shade of purple as the nightstand. The style of Evony’s room was exceptionally glamorous, which fitted with the Madam’s general demeanour.

There were three floors to The Midnight Lounge. On the bottom floor, at the entrance, was the bar. Behind that, the building gave way to six individual rooms where the real money was made. Each room was themed in a different style, so as the customer could choose what feel they wanted. Above that was the second floor, which was the main living quarters. There was a main room in the centre, with a small kitchen and sitting room. The girl’s bedrooms came off that room, so they could live on the premises. Above that was the third and final floor, which acted as a home to Evony and her children. It wasn’t that they couldn’t afford a house of their own; Evony easily had enough money to buy several houses of her own. But businesses did not run themselves, and places like this which made high profits and catered to the entitled who easily had the ability to be choosey required a lot of work. Evony simply didn’t have the time to maintain and live in a house of her own. Their floor was considerably more spacious than the one the girl’s occupied. Each member of the family had an en suit bathroom and a large bedroom. They also had a sitting room of their own, and a small kitchen, but it was rarely used. Coming off Evony’s bedroom was a small office, where she ran usually ran the business from. The girls were strictly forbidden from entering the top floor, unless an emergency arose that required her urgent attention. After all, she had to maintain a certain degree of privacy. In the basement was a gym and a swimming pool. The girls were expected to keep their bodies in a certain condition, and if they were unable to maintain the looks she’d employed them for, they were gone.

This evening was a particularly busy one for Evony. She’d been booked by a wealthy senator, David Beaumont, for his retirement party. Evony’s girls were expected arrive towards the end of the evening and socialise with the guests. Then, as the party drew to a close around eleven and only his close friends were left, that was when their day jobs finally begun. They were expected to drench the men with attention and then, of course, sleep with them. Evony was escorting them, to make sure order was kept and they did their jobs correctly. Jasper was also coming along, to ensure their safety, and also Haley, to help manage business, but mainly because Evony didn’t want to leave her at The Midnight Lounge without the watchful eye of herself or Jasper. Because Ray J had a previous booking, she was the only girl not coming, but Evony had known Mr Norton a while and was fairly confident Jasper was not required in this situation. Anthony was also staying here, to keep the bar open, should any police or others come poking around. Evony knew leaving Anthony alone with a girl, especially one she knew he’d had his eye on recently, was just tempting fate, but she didn’t have much choice. She didn’t want to leave Haley to front the business instead. It wasn’t that Evony didn’t trust her daughter; it was just that she was often so much vulnerable than her brother. Though he was only two years her senior, he still behaved so much older than Haley. And frankly, despite his inability to keep his eyes and hands off the prostitutes working here, Evony trusted him to look after himself more. And so it was settled, that was their evening.

Evony stood up from the bed, bending back down to smooth the duvet and replace the cushions in their correct place before leaving her room to enter the family sitting room, where she knew Haley would be.

“Haley, darling?” Evony asked her daughter. “Can you please let the girls know we’ll be leaving in forty minutes, make sure Jasper knows too. And would you please be ready to go then as well.” Though her words were phrased politely, it was a question and not a statement. She’d used a term of endearment for her daughter, but she did not expect the girl to defy her mother.

Evony knew Haley wasn’t fond of the lifestyle she’d chosen for the family, and she wished she’d chosen differently. Evony had always been close to Anthony, their relationship had always been caring and he’d rarely held any resentment for her. But her relationship with Haley always felt slightly strained. Of course she loved her daughter, but she never seemed to quite connect with her in the same way she did with her son.

But tonight, Evony’s family issues were irrelevant. She dealt in sex; that was the plain and simple of it. People came to her to forget their issues and their problems. Her girls would take all that away, in their skimpy dresses and lacy lingerie. They gave the men what they wanted. They created a fantasy, a gloss of perfection that overlaid reality and erased it for a time. Evony didn’t just trade in sex; she traded in an evanescent mirage. The unattainable.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Evony de la Longine Character Portrait: Anthony de la Longine Character Portrait: Haley de la Longine Character Portrait: Jasper James
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The previous night, Haley had been unable to sleep again. Obviously she had stayed up until at least two or three in the morning, just writing and listening to music. In case anyone could hear her, she decided against playing guitar, though she doubted anyone would have been able to hear her anyways. After awhile she ended up sneaking downstairs to see Jasper, just wearing a long, grey v-neck which she had no doubt he enjoyed. That was never her goal though, pants were just overrated. For a long time she had stayed with him, most of the time just laying there. Unfortunately she couldn't risk someone finding them, or even seeing her sneaking back up to her room, so she ended up having to leave around five. After that she'd passed out on her bed, curled up holding a pillow with a shirt on it instead of a pillowcase.

She didn't sleep for long, but she slept past the time that she was supposed to be up and down at the bar. Everyone there knew that when she actually did sleep, you really shouldn't wake her up. When she finally did get up though, which was around noon, she almost immediately rose and went to get changed. Black jeans, white button-down, and a pair of black sneakers. There was no point in putting on fancy shoes, or at least heels to make her look taller, she would be behind the bar with her brother. The only part they would see of her was waist-up, and the bar was naturally a bit above the floor so she would at least look normal height. Her brother still towered over her though, but that was a given. Then again, everyone towered over her, so it wasn't much of a surprise. It didn't bother her that much, except for the times she was teased about it.

It was around seven that night when she noticed Jasper leave, Not that she had been watching him or anything, but it was hard not to notice him when there was crazy, drunk girls hanging on him all the time. Alright, maybe it wasn't all the time, but it was a good portion of the time. There was nothing she could do about it though, and she knew that he wasn't able to throw them out for something as silly as that. She couldn't say she wasn't pleased when he got away from them though. About a half hour after he had left, to make sure no one even suspected that she was going up to see him, she excused herself from the bar. The man she had been speaking with, or more like flirting with, looked pretty upset that she was leaving.

Going up to her room first, she took a quick shower before going out to read in the sitting room. She didn't want to get ready before her mother told her to, since she didn't want to stay in that uncomfortable dress for longer than she had to. Quicker than she thought though, her mother was telling her to tell everyone else to get ready, and then get prepared herself. "Alright mum," -do I really have to go tonight? There was no way that she wanted to be around tonights happenings, but she wasn't about to question her mother. When the woman had mentioned Jasper her heart has sped up, the same way it always did when her mum mentioned her secret-boyfriend. It wasn't healthy for her to be lying to her mother like this, but she wasn't going to get Jasper in trouble either.

She went into her room and slipped on a black dress and a pair of heels. It took her less than five minutes to get changed, since she hadn't wanted to go down to the girls rooms with a robe on. When she got to their floor she just yelled out that they were to be ready to leave within a half hour, figuring that would be easier than trying to find each and every girl. As she headed towards Jasper's room though, her heart seemed to speed up again, even though her mum had specifically told her to tell him to be ready. When she entered his room he was still in the shower, and though she knew she should probably have just left him a note, instead she went over to his bed to sit and wait for him to be out.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Ivory Peirce Character Portrait: Clara Jane Mason Character Portrait: Kaydence Dixen Character Portrait: Anthony de la Longine
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The sound of the faucet being turned is that of a soft squeak, followed by the rush of water as it hits against the marble tiles of Anthony's luxurious steam shower. It is seven o'clock or so, and the young man has only just returned home from a day out with a couple of friends, going to the movies and then to a bowling alley. True, such an establishment isn't necessarily the classiest of places, and perhaps one wouldn't expect to find Anthony, smooth-talker and son of one of the highest-esteemed madams in the state, maybe even the northern USA, at a place where the balls are greasy and the food disgusting, but he rather enjoys it anyway. In fact, he is quite good at the game, and has the tendency to win. When he and his sister were younger, he would take her to the bowling alley now and again. That was before they spent time bar tending, and when they were little enough for their mother to not want them to be constantly surrounded by the darker side of the appropriately named Midnight Lounge. As they grew older, his mother's concern had decreased, to some extent, because they were mature enough and, honestly, it was inevitable that they would become at least somewhat involved in the business. Even their home is only just above the lounge, after all.

After a short hot shower, the young man steps out into his large, tiled bathroom, drying off and wrapping a towel around his waist. His image, which would normally be clear in the mirror, is blocked by the steam which clings to the reflective surface. The air in the bathroom is dense with evaporated warm water, but Anthony rather likes it. He has always preferred warm weather to cold weather, which is unfortunate given that he lives in Michigan. Often times, the young man seems better suited for somewhere like California or Florida, with palm trees and girls walking about in daisy dukes. His blond curls and slightly tanned skin only further this appearance. The young man wipes some of the fog off of the mirror and kind of brushes his hair, but places the brush down after only a few seconds, because brushing curls is something of a lost cause. After brushing his teeth and swishing some mouthwash about, the handsome fellow walks out into his room, wooden floors cold against his bare feet. His room, surprisingly, is very clean, and looks more like it should belong to a scholar than to a player such as himself. It is sparsely decorated, with a large bookshelf filled with plays, poems, and old novels. The bed is king-size with gray sheets and a gray blanket, paired with pillows in solid black cases. His closet is actually walk-in, but only half-filled despite his love for well-tailored clothing. All the same, it represents his style quite well. Seeing the young man in a T-shirt in jeans is rare, as he only has two pairs of jeans and maybe three T-shirts, used only for when he is doing something like painting a wall, although such a thing is uncommon.

Most of his wardrobe is composed of nice suit jackets, clean collared shirts, and dark business pants. There are also vests, which he has a special fondness for, and an eclectic collection of bow ties and ties- all rarely worn, despite his classy dressing habits. He has a few pairs of shoes, all of them of high quality, with the exception of a ratty pair of sneakers. Anthony changes into a clean, light-blue collared dress shirt, black suit jacket, and black pants. The jacket is left open and, overall, the young man looks rather good. A matter of course, he thinks with an undeniably cocky smile at the mirror before strolling over to his book case and pulling out a book of poetry by Ralph Waldo Emerson from the shelf. He slides it into a pocket inside his jacket, which is just large enough for the rather small book, and runs his hands through his still slightly damp curls.

Right, most of the girls are going to that party tonight, right? Everyone, actually. The only person staying is Regan, he observes with a grin before walking out of his room, closing the door behind him. The young man makes his way down the stairs, in time to witness some of the girls slipping into Natasha's room and shouting some things, though they seem to hold no malice. In fact, they make the young man, somewhat impervious to insults, grin and raise his eyebrows with amusement. "It better have not been that son of the boss' again, I swear - The next time he's in one of our rooms I shall have to attack him," chimes the voice that he hears.

The young man saunters down the hallway and leans against the door frame, the door having been left open. "I only go where I am invited," he comments smoothly, his hands in his pockets. All in all, he looks rather suave. "You should know that, Clara," the young man adds with a grin.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Ivory Peirce Character Portrait: Anneka Vanity Character Portrait: Clara Jane Mason Character Portrait: Kaydence Dixen Character Portrait: Anthony de la Longine
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A party for a senator usually meant a roomful of flies, perfect for plucking, ready for reeling in. A party for a senator usually meant a flood of wealth in her pocket. Even now, if she closed her eyes, Anneka could almost tangibly feel the chime of gold falling on her like rain. She would run them over her eyelids, preparing the next phase of her burial as the Egyptians had once done, drowning in the treasures she had collected. All of her beauties were still at Robert's, the fool of a FBI agent. How could any man paid to wheedle out the worst in society fall in love with a minx such as herself? She would never understand. No matter how vile, unattractive, undesirable they were, men always found themselves worthy. It made her cackle. Worthy? When did worthy ever matter? No, it was about the game, the chase, the thrill of knowing you would win, no matter how long you drew the torture out. It was the ecstasy of watching a tycoon beg for her sweet weapon, the apple that tasted heavenly, increasing in pleasure, and right before the peak... right after you began to get excited and hopeful... would turn sharply and slowly, ever so slowly, suck the light from your eyes. Death would be merciful, then; you would long for death, perhaps run towards it. But the pain would be slow, and you would be left only with the thought that you don't deserve this suffering.

But you do, Anneka thought lightly, as she surveyed herself in the mirror. She was naked, glistening with the shower water she hadn't bothered to wash off. She quite liked her physical blessings, and didn't mind roaming the second floor without her clothes. She was a prostitute, after all; how could any girl like her feign modesty? The girls here knew her as Angel, but anyone who knew her would recognize immediately: she was no angel. Not if she didn't want to be, anyway. And right now? She definitely didn't want to be. Tonight, she would make money with her job, not her fingers, not her own deceptions; she would play the role of a prostitute feigning aristocracy expertly, and then please any man, any woman, into bonuses unto bonuses afterwards. The trick was to remember who you were playing, while you were playing. Tonight would be tricky. She was expected to be refined, high fashion, high end... that, by itself, was no difficult task. Quite simple, really; it was the first role Anneka had taken on.

But she had to remember the layer she had right underneath that fine act of class. She would be the prostitute playing the role of a wealthy woman, completely at home in a room full of politicians, wealthy, influential men. She would be playing a woman playing a woman. It would be tricky... but immensely challenging, and immensely fun. She looked forward to it.

Once Anneka was sufficiently air-dried, she ventured into her bedroom, examining the contents of her closet. A scream resonated a few moments later, but who cared? It was of no importance to her. Right now, she needed to face a greater threat: finding the right outfit to wear. Most of the girls would be wearing dresses - black ones, at that. Of course, how predictable. Gag. Impulsively, overcome with disgust at wearing something so commonplace, Anneka grabbed the first colored dress she could find: a green beauty she could not wait to don. And for the fun of it? She wouldn't wear underwear. Okay, maybe a little sticker or something for nipple coverage, but you will not find any underwear underneath the long skirt. Not tonight. With a smirk, Anneka set the dress aside, with plain white heels to offset the suddenness of the dress.

Next would be the hair, the accessories, the make up... The list went on and on. I'm a prostitute, Anneka thought bitterly, resolutely, I refuse to do anything. Her only job, after all, was to entertain, to please, to elicit gasps and moans. Sex was her pedestal, and she relished in it. Thus, the hair was left wild, untamed, uncombed - it would fall apart during nightfall, anyway - and her make up was done sparingly. She wore absolutely no jewelry, no accessories; the theme of the night was minimalism.

She was ready in a matter of fifteen minutes. The dress would come on much later, right before she had to leave; it didn't take much work, anyway. Right now, she wanted to remain naked. She hadn't talked to the other girls much; she was more or less a loner in the Midnight Lounge. And what better way to make a lasting first impression than to 'show off your goods,' as one man had so delicately put it. Completely nude and carefree, Anneka walked towards the room that held the screamer - Natasha, if she could recall correctly. She leaned against the door frame, the side unoccupied by Madame's son, and surveyed each girl calmly, noting the one nicknamed Beauty by the customers, and the innocent-looking fairy, the screamer who was quite beautiful if she hadn't looked so.. disheveled at the moment. And as for Madame's son... well, she had never been one to change anything for the sake of one person.

Anneka raised her eyebrows at Natasha and ignored Anthony, directly speaking to the girl before doing anything else. "You okay?" she said softly. She was the new girl, the newest of all the other whores in this place. She would act accordingly.

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Character Portrait: Natasha Ivory Peirce Character Portrait: Anneka Vanity Character Portrait: Clara Jane Mason Character Portrait: Kaydence Dixen Character Portrait: Anthony de la Longine
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As a voice spoke to her, Clara's eyes flitted over to the man in the door - Anthony.
She raises her eyebrow as he speaks and then laughs with Natasha when he adds, "You should know that, Clara."
Feigning innocence Clara softly replies "Why on earth would I -of all people- know that, Anthony?"

Looking back over to Natasha, she eyes her face suspiciously, knowing that something as petty as a spider wouldn't make her scream like so did, yet she could not see anything that gave away what it really was on her friends face and so she dropped it. For now.
It was at that moment that their newest member decided to join them - Angel, naked as anything Clara bit her lip from letting out a little sigh.
Okay, the girl had a great body but really, did she want to make herself anymore tempting for the boss' son? Does she not know what he's like? - Clara knew that she did but still, she felt a little jealousy for this girls good-looks and so, felt a little resentment toward her.

Realizing she still held her two dresses in her hands so re-looked at them and turned toward Natasha, "Now, the reason I was coming over to see you," She starts, "was because I need your expert advice." Clara then holds up the two dresses so that Natasha could see them better.

Then she looks over to Anthony and grins, "which do you prefer?" She asks, lifting the two dresses up.
She did love her red dress but then again, the blue was very - sexy.

Clara knew exactly what to pair with both - The red would go with a more minimalist style her black heels and a little gloss would suffice whereas the blue dress called for her favourite red lipstick and silver kitten heels.
She still had to get ready and this now large group of people was only stopping her - Some would argue that she was a whore and so, who cares what she's wearing? Its not like she going be wearing it that much and yet, it made her feel better to be well presented and you did get more richer clients when you look good.
Also you don't want your standards to drop because otherwise you could potentially be threatened about being kicked out and she just couldn't handle that, not now she's actually grown to like the place and has somewhere where she feels more at home that she ever did, anywhere.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Ivory Peirce Character Portrait: Anneka Vanity Character Portrait: Clara Jane Mason Character Portrait: Evony de la Longine Character Portrait: Kaydence Dixen Character Portrait: Anthony de la Longine Character Portrait: Haley de la Longine
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"Alright, Mum," Haley replied, standing up from her position on the sofa and skulking off to her room. There was no softness to the words, no care or emotion. It was clear Haley didn't want to be there tonight, and Evony hadn't exactly reasoned out to her daughter exactly why she didn't want her staying here without her mother or Jasper, but she still didn't expect such a seemingly cold reception.

With a soft sigh, Evony returned to her own room to get ready. After all, it wouldn't do for her not to be ready when she expected all the girls to be perfectly on time. She changed into a black dress. The garment was fairly simple and classic in style, clinging to her curves right the way down her body, only flaring round her knees to give it a touch of uniqueness. Evony was not usually the type to dress down. She loved picking out something glamorous, emphasising her assets and dressing to create an impression. But tonight was not about showing herself off. Tonight was business, and purely business. Though she needed to blend in with the wealthy feel of the evening, meaning she had to wear something elegant, she also had to remain looking professional. These types of parties were often where she picked up new clients. She was certain there would be men there tonight who's numbers she didn't have in her little black book, and she needed to create a certain image in order to lure them in. What she wore had to say a certain thing, and so the classic black dress was perfect for the occasion. Her jewellery was also simplistic and classic. On her wrist she wore a simple, thick, gold bracelet and in her ears rested studs in an identical shade to her bracelet. Her hair was pulled back off her face to create a businesslike impression, and her make-up was light and natural, except for her eye-liner, which was slightly thicker than usual and her eye-shadow, which was a very pale charcoal colour.

Halfway through applying a thin coat of natural lipstick, Evony froze in front of the mirror, catching the sound of a scream downstairs. She held still for a few moments, but soon she heard voices. She couldn't tell who'd been responsible for the scream, but it was clearly resolved. She slipped her feet into a pair of simple black heels. Though they couldn't be seen under the floor length dress, they gave her additional height on her already relatively tall five foot seven frame. Finally, she checked herself in the full-length mirror, looking herself down for any imperfections. In these situations, image was everything. It could make or break a night, be the difference between earning new clients or losing existing ones.

Remembering she was leaving her son alone with Ray, Evony decided to make certain he was clear on the rules. Besides, since her daughter was being particularly icy with her tonight and she certainly wasn't going to ask any of the girls, she wanted someone's approval on the outfit, and her son was always sweet to her. She exited her room into the main family area, crossing it and knocking on Anthony's door. But there was no answer. She made her way downstairs to find him. But when she reached the second floor, she discovered what the scene was all about. Inside Natasha's room, the owner of the room was standing up from the bed looking a little dishevelled, but thankfully dressed for the evening - which was more than Evony could say for certain other girls... Clara was holding up two dresses, obviously trying to get an opinion.

"The blue one," Evony said to the woman, announcing her entrance to the scene. The blue one would offer more temptation, and pull in the money much faster, Evony was sure of it. She paused before raising her eyebrows, "Is there a problem here?" But she didn't wait for an answer.

Kitten was also ready, and as the Madam flicked her eyes over the girl, taking in her appearance, she realised with a faint smile how much money the baby faced prostitute was going to make her tonight. However, her expression darkened as her eyes fell on Angel. Evony wasn't especially font of the new girl as it was, and her complete disregard for any kind of dignity only riled the woman further.

"Angel," she said coldly, "I hope you're not planning on leaving here like that... I'm sure the longer you spend in this business, you'll come to understand that it's all about temptation; something you haven't quite grasped yet..." Sarcasm dripped from Evony's voice like syrup.

She glanced at her son, the real reason she'd even entered the scene in the first place. "Anthony, a word, please?" she beckoned to him and left the main room to stand by the stairs, to give them some privacy. She didn't glance back to check he was following her, she simply assumed he would.

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Character Portrait: Natasha Ivory Peirce Character Portrait: Anneka Vanity Character Portrait: Clara Jane Mason Character Portrait: Evony de la Longine Character Portrait: Anthony de la Longine
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    The lack of balance in the room was evident; she could smell it. And its source? It came from Natasha. Anneka prided herself on noticing, on seeing the tiniest traces of instability. The girl hid it well, admittedly, but could anyone fool the master? She could even sense the revulsion at her nudity, but why should she care? She wasn't here to make friends; she was here to bring them all down. But on second thought... perhaps she needed their affections to pass suspicion. She needed to fit in. Madame wouldn't tolerate any 'funny business,' as Robert called it. He had warned her of everything. He was in charge of the Midnight Lounge case, which meant his career rested in her pretty little hands. Oh, if only she could let them crumble out, like ashes from her lips. But it would cost her more than his anger, it would most likely cost her her life. So Anneka made a small sympathetic noise and perused the room. "A spider? You poor thing." She kept her voice soft, rough and low and husky, smooth edges and all texture. Her normal voice was much more feminine, higher and girly. But she was a prostitute, and that wasn't the voice a prostitute ought to have.

    She didn't mind that Clara ignored her. She would expect nothing less. And she hardly cared about the 'man' of the house, Anthony de la Longine. Just another pest of Madame's. Anneka would much rather dig her nails into the diamond of the house: Natasha. It was no use denying her attraction to the girl; it ran in her veins even now, this longing for possession of the powerful. Because that was what Natasha was: powerful. She was the top girl of the Midnight Lounge, the drawer of money, of attention and the hollers of men. She wanted to own Natasha. She wanted to be on top of her and make her scream, she wanted to know that she alone had the power to bring her to such divine pleasure. It was her nature, to seek the people at the very top. She would have gone for Madame, if the woman hadn't repulsed her so. The woman did not own Anneka. No one did. Not even Robert, the fool who believed he had conquered the untamed beauty.

    Well, speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Or in this case, a she. Anneka turned and found herself face to face with the Madame herself, in all of her icy splendor. She hid the immediate hatred that flooded her tongue and tossed her hair out of her face, lowering her chin in what would pass for humility. She stepped out of the way, making sure she headed in Natasha's direction, and gave the woman some room. This was her number one enemy, the woman at the top of her black list. She was the one Anneka was conspiring against, and she must not think anything irregular of her. But... well, she was naked. She knew Madame's type: the kind of woman who wanted perfection, rushed after it, would not stop until she attained it. And nudity wasn't acceptable, even for the prostitutes under her care.

    Madame's words proved her correct, but it still elicited a strong indignant in her. She quelled it and nodded her head meekly, meeting Madame's eyes obediently. "I'm sorry, Madame," she said dutifully, swallowing down her biting, bitter words gently. "I'll work hard to remember tonight, Madame. I will follow my peers' example." Even though I don't fucking need it, you bitchy serpent, Anneka added silently. Her face was carefully masked with a blank deference, and she maintained it even after Madame walked away. She would not lose control; she never did. She had no trouble flicking her true emotions aside, but this woman was bound to test her. Anneka would have to earn the woman's trust.

    She was up to the challenge.

    Anneka turned to the other girls and offered them a smile, albeit distant and a little detached. "Oops," she said calmly, shrugging her shoulders sheepishly. "I hope you girls don't mind about my, well..." Anneka motioned down her body with the back of her right hand, making a backwards J gracefully. "I was just a little worried about the scream." She knew how she was coming off: cool, confident, mysterious. She liked it that way. Let these girls wonder; perhaps it would draw them closer. She leveled her gaze on Natasha and smiled once more, adding a little warmth to her lips. Perhaps it would draw this girl closer. "But everything is okay, and I will go get dressed now. I'll see you all tonight."

    And with that, Anneka left. She entered her own room and touched up her make up, slipped into her dress, and smiled coolly at her reflection. Beautiful. Smoldering. And absolutely irresistible. As usual.

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Character Portrait: Evony de la Longine Character Portrait: Anthony de la Longine Character Portrait: Regan Monaco
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"I'm sorry, Madame. I'll work hard to remember tonight, Madame. I will follow my peers' example," Angel replied. Her tone held nothing but the deepest sincerity and her expression was completely blank of anything that may say otherwise. But that was the thing about the girls here. They hadn't just been employed for their exquisite looks and beautiful bodies, but also for their acting skills. Evony highly doubted, although she never stopped to ask, that any of these girls wanted to spend their evening purring in the ears of old, overweight, unattractive men with wallets, undoubtedly, much larger than what lay beneath their expensively tailored suit pants. But these girls had years of experience, learning just the right way to say something, just the right demeanour to maintain, in order to deceive the men into thinking they actually wanted to sleep with them. Their looks may have been instrumental in getting this job, but their acting skills were what kept them in it. And that's why, despite the sincerity of Angel's lovely voice, something about the apology did not ring true in Evony's ears.

"Good," Evony responded, her voice crisp and clear. She raised her eyebrows a little as the single syllable to the word rung out, giving her words the same basic insincerity that Angel's had.

"Of course," her son responded to Evony's request for a moment of his time. Although, in truth, Evony did not make requests, simply demands, and you'd be damned if you failed to recognise that. But Anthony was an intelligent boy with charm and charisma, and respect for his mother, which was something Evony valued, and he did exactly as she asked.

She allowed Anthony to take his place, leaning casually against the wall. She remained standing, not using anything else as a prop, but she shifted her weight a little, so she was sitting into her hips. She folded her arms, shaking her head and smiling at her son, who was already giving her his own smile.

"So- what is it that you wish to say?" he asked.

Evony paused for a moment, smiling at him, her voice gentle. "The dress, is it alright?" There was a certain vulnerability to her tone, one you rarely heard in the voice of the Madam. In fact, it was a vulnerability the girls never saw, and was rare to her children too, although Haley more so than Anthony. She wasn't concerned about selecting her own outfit, of course she knew how to dress herself perfectly well, after all these years. But she did value having someone's approval, and Anthony was always the sweetest of her children to her.

She paused again, giving him chance to answer, before moving on to the real reason she did need to speak with him in particular.

"It's about Regent Monaco." Evony usually called the girls by their stage names, but she felt she needed to take a slightly more professional stance on this with her son, not that she expected it to make the slightest difference. But she hoped, somewhere in the back of her mind, the use of her full name would sober Anthony from his perception of the girls as his playthings; an attitude she wasn't entirely happy with. Though Evony got on better with her son, and had always felt as if the boy held less resentment for her than Haley, this was one matter on which they frequently disagreed.

Evony sighed, deciding to abandon skirting around the problem and simply address it. This was her son after all, he deserved her frankness. Things didn't need to be sugar-coated for him.

"I know she's been a particular favourite of your's recently, but the rules are as they always have been, Anthony. She's here to work, not to entertain you. So keep your eyes on the bar and off Regent, are we clear?" Her words were not cruel or sarcastic or unnecessarily harsh. They were firm, yet reasonable; as she always attempted to remain with her children.

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Character Portrait: Evony de la Longine Character Portrait: Anthony de la Longine
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The pair are silent for a moment, simply smiling warmly at each other before Evony speaks once more, though what she says seems slightly too trivial to be the actual reasoning for the woman to have pulled her son to the side. After all, she might have simply asked the question in the hallway, though that can be reasoned away with her not wanting to have her girls see any doubt in the Madam. The very thought, however, is something which Anthony can dismiss immediately, knowing that his mother would never have any sort of insecurity. Even among all of these women, beautiful actresses, she has the most confident and powerful presence every time she walks into a room, and he knows that his mother is well aware of this. Were he a female, though he is rather glad to not be, Anthony imagines, or perhaps hopes, that he would be similar to his mother. While his sister is sweet enough, she doesn't have the same dominance and control. Besides, what kind of person would want to be like their sister, regardless of any justification? There is the slightest amount of vulnerability in Evony's question, despite the fact that Anthony doubts the legitimacy of it, which reveals the close relationship that he has with his mother. They get along far better than Haley and Evony do, anyway.

"You look gorgeous as usual, mother," Anthony responds with a smile, "The clients will wish that you were working, rather than your girls." His mother does not fully respond, instead addressing the matter which she has clearly pulled him to the side with the intent to speak on. His suspicions, though they were more knowledge than guesswork, are confirmed as she changes the subject from the little opening question. It isn't that surprising, the topic she chooses to touch on, because the matter of his relations with some of the girls is one of the few on which he and his mother occasionally find themselves disagreeing. It is an explicit disobeying of her instructions, something unusual for the young man, but one he carries on with nonetheless. After all, how can one expect an artist surrounded by paint to not use it, or a musician given breathtaking pieces to not preform? Anthony has been raised among beauty, and raised to appreciate it. How could he resist the girls of the Lounge, when they represent some of the best?

"Regan? What about her?" Anthony counters with a smile that makes no claim towards innocence, but also holds no obvious guilt. His mother's attempt to affect him with the use of the girl's full name fails, if only because he, himself, prefers to use her full name. After all, he isn't one of those wealthy, elderly men who visits the lounge, now is he? Unlike his mother, he tends to use the girls' real names, unless he is working, and then only so as not to kill whatever image they choose to create. Evony merely sighs, and quits dancing around the subject. Anthony realizes that he should respond seriously, for she is giving him that courtesy, but the smile still dances on his mouth, the corners of his lips twitching with a desire to be stretched out to a larger smile, rather than the restrained one they currently form.

Anthony sighs in return to his mother's words, though the sigh seems to hold less sincerity than that of his mother's. He raises one hand with three fingers up, replicating the girl scout gesture. "I understand, mother, scout's honor. But, how can you place a wine-enthusiast in a first class cellar, and not expect him to sample?" he asks, genuine in the question.