Dorian Villeneuve
Chorus Girl/Boy
Don't they know they're making love to one already dead!
Posts: 19
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Post by Dorian Villeneuve on Nov 29, 2008 19:42:40 GMT -5
Le Maison Derrière was the place that rats dared not go. It was the place where the scum of the earth gathered to do many things, from gambling to drinking, from watching the performers do their tricks to bedding the prostitutes out on the streets. The customers went willing, but the workers had to be dragged out onto the stage to demean themselves once more. Society had pushed them out as unwanted sinners, they had to make do with the situation and put on a show when the customers asked.
Le Maison Derrière took in both male and female clientele, both evening out as the night went on. Women came earlier, while their husbands were out working or meeting with their mistresses, men came under the cover of night and a disguise so no one could catch them in their improper manner. Of course, there was both men and women who performed, but in the end, people came to see the men.
Dorian Villeneuve was one of those men, only he wasn't know as Dorian Villeneuve, not even known as Dorian. No, on the stage he was 'Le Bohemien' and he was one of the more well known ones, to his distress. People came in every night looking for the prostitute that had some class left in them and acted as gentleman-like as you wanted him to. People liked that in him, and they paid his pimp good money for him too. He wasn't a favorite of The Master, though, mainly because he was good in his profession, unlike The Master had been in his younger days. Dorian received abuse for it, though he was bringing in money.
Tonight, however, Dorian was not working the streets, he was just performing and picking up a well-earned paycheck. Angelique had taken ill and he couldn't be out that night galavanting like some crazed lunatic, kneeling on different beds within the nighttime hours. Angelique needed her father and he was giving her her father. The Master wouldn't be happy, but Dorian had a deal with his pimp that what The Master didn't know, wouldn't hurt him.
Dorian left the tiny apartment, promising Mme. Madeleine that he would be back before twelve, that night, to spend the night with Angelique. Mme. Madeline nodded and looked at the poor man with a look of pity. She knew of his work, she knew the pain he went through doing the work and with her old soul she would do anything to help him, but she wasn't wealthy herself and all she could offer was a babysitting service at five francs a night.
He walked down the streets in the thin clothing he owned, grasping his arms for warmth and to keep his body heat in. The cold Parisian night was merciless towards him and it wasn't giving up. Dorian rushed down the alleyway that had the entrance to Le Maison Derrière (hidden so the police couldn't find it easily, as it wasn't legal activity.) and he ran into the building relieve he had escaped the cold.
Early birds had shown up and they were at the bar or at the tables ordering their alcohol so they could enjoy their night more. Dorian rolled his eyes at the sight and he headed towards backstage so he could prepare himself for his act. His act was a simply act, but it won the audience over, it involved him moving about the stage in a seductive manner, singing a little song that was no sensual at all, but he sang it as if it were. At the end of the act, everything but his undergarments were gone and he rushed backstage, frantically searching for his clothes in tears so he could maintain what little dignity he had left.
Dorian was on his way to do all this, but he had bumped into someone. He had fallen back a little, but he still stood upward. "Pardon me, I wasn't watching where I was going."
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Post by eva on Nov 30, 2008 0:08:11 GMT -5
"Oh bother!" a cloud of white breath Evangeline shook out of her mouth with frustration. It was an extremely chilly night, with type that wind seemed to pass through every layer of clothing your wearing and bite your skin. It was night that someone wouldn't want to be lost in, and that was exactly what Evangeline was...lost. Earlier that evening she had arrived at the Moulin Rouge for work, and was quickly scooted out the door to deliver a package for one of the girls that was booked for the night and couldn't do it herself. Supposedly the package had an outfit that the girl was lending to a woman at the Le Maison Derrière. But thats all she was told, "Give it to a Madame Laetitia at the Le Maison Derrière.", and she was sent on her way with no directions what-so-ever.
So with only a not-so-modest dress and a long winter cloak to protect her from the cold she wandered aimlessly through the red light distract. She had probably been searching for the past hour and had made it as far as the slums of the distract, which could be considered the slums of the slums. Pulling the hood over her black corkscrew curls that where fastened with expensive tassels, she quickened her step hoping to find some sort of clue as to where in the world was she and if she wanted to know.
After a few minutes of just standing in the middle of the walkway confused, upset, and just about to turn around and head back she saw people entering a building from an alleyway door. It certainly had to be some sort of brothel for people to be sneaking in in this area, or it could be some other illegal dealing. One of her bare hands came out from under the cloak and her fingers twisted around one of her curls in a nervous habit. Maybe if she just stood by the door she'd be able to tell. Once by the door she leaned against the side of the wall where when someone walked in or out she perhaps could have a peek in. It wasn't a long wait before someone opened the door and the sound of music, lively chatter, and the smell of sex and cigars filled her nostrils. Yes, this was a brothel, whether it was the right one or not was the question now.
She slipped through the door and made her way in the opposite direction of the person who entered early, she thought that there must be a backroom where the 'performers' are before their needed. Turning a corner she saw both women and men getting dressed, undressed, or just exposing themselves because they can, yes another right she went the right way. Though used to naked bodies Evangeline still averted her eyes to the walls and floor suddenly embarrassed at seeing such brash rejection of clothing. Keeping her eyes on the less than clean floor her shyness took over and she just hoped that she'd miraculously bump into the right person.
Well Evangeline did bump into a person and made a rather sound smack with her nose colliding with a shoulder, and not a petite one of a woman. Her hood slid of her head and ripped one of the tassels, her hands flew to her aching nose, and the package thumped to the floor."Non! Non! Samahani! I wasn't paying attention either!" Evangeline's brown skin became darker with an embarrassed blush. Her eyes where fixated on the floor with a sudden, not fear, but extreme nervousness. "I'm sorry Monsieur" She said more quietly, and this time in French.
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Dorian Villeneuve
Chorus Girl/Boy
Don't they know they're making love to one already dead!
Posts: 19
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Post by Dorian Villeneuve on Nov 30, 2008 0:37:56 GMT -5
Dorian looked upon who he had bumped into, assuming it was going to be some petite gentleman that could hold in his liquor well, but his assumption had been wrong. It was a young woman he had run into, not the type of woman that normally came into Le Maison Derrière, but rather, a kinder, more tamed woman. Her skin was dark, most likely hailing from Africa or having African in her background. It was a lovely shade, Dorian thought, and her cheeks got darker as she blushed from embarrassment, which made him sorry that they had run into each other that way.
But since he had to look down to meet her eyes anyway, Dorian saw the type of clothing she wore and it wasn't the type of clothing you would see someone wearing on the street. It was a low cut dress that revealed a lot of skin and the hem was at about the knees, showing off the girl's legs to the world. Either she had lost her mind and decided to walk about in the cold air dressed like this or she, like other women of Le Maison Derrière, was a lady of the night, a prostitute, no less.
The thing he noticed about her though, was that she seemed as if she didn't have an idea where she was going. The poor girl must have been lost and had no idea where she was. Then again, who would want to know where they were if they were here in this brothel were the low somehow manage to become even lower than before they walked in. Dorian knew that he wanted to be anyplace but there, yet he had to come here, he had to brave this world for Angelique.
“Mam'selle, do you need assistance with something? You seem to be lost and I believe I can help you find out where you are,” Dorian said with a look of concern. He would smile to show friendliness, but the condition of his teeth was too horrid, they looked like they were all gold or wooden. No one wanted to see that, not for the world.
The girl seemed to keep her eyes on the floor, away from all the sights and sounds of the brothel. To their left was the changing rooms of backstage, the direction the girl came from and most of the employees weren't that modest. They loved their jobs too much to be modest in their own privacy. But the sights one would hate most was the sights to their right, where some women in scant clothing sat on the bar or on a man's lap, or men “entertained” female clientèle. It disgusted Dorian, though he oftened had to commit the same task.
No wonder the girl didn't want to look at it all, it was a hellish sight that no one wanted to see. It was enough to make Lucifer retch on the floor, enough to make Hades long for his fiery home, enough to send Death running away, hoping that his victim would eventually walk out. Debauchery it was, all of it, and there was no possible way it could get lower than it already was. And yet, the performers hadn't even gone on to perform yet. It was possible for the situation at hand to get worse.
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Post by eva on Nov 30, 2008 22:21:25 GMT -5
Evangeline lowered her hands from her nose as the pain subsided into a dull soreness, and let her eyes glance up at the man she had bumped into. He looked quite a bit older then her, around her parents age, and worse for wear. The result a years of poverty she presumed, since this place really didn't seem like a high paying establishment. In fact compared to the flashy Moulin Rouge she knew, the Le Maison Derrière was depressing and indeed as repulsive as she had once thought her work place to be. The overwhelming feeling of the contrast between the dingy place and the impractical extravagant attire she was wearing. The simple navy blue wool cloak quickly covered everything except her head, the tassels still caught on the hood. She hadn't felt this self-conscious in years, and she had no idea why.
When he spoke to her again she finally pulled her eyes all the way up to look him in the face. His politeness was actually surprising to her, it wasn't the extravagant or nonchalant nature of the normal prostitute or pimp. Maybe he was some other type of worker there, what she couldn't guess. "It would be wonderful if you could Monsieur. I'm looking for Le Maison Derrière, is this perhaps it? If not would you know where it is? I was sent to give a package to a Madame Laetitia." Evangeline rabbled out in her hushed voice with a weak smile. The man it smile himself but he seemed amiable enough.
At her own reference to the parcel she remembered that it had dropped out of her hands. Keeping the cloak together as best possible she picked up the rather hefty costume wrapped in brown paper. It must have been one of those pleated frilly ones with fake jewels on it to weigh as much as it need. Taking another glance around the room she wondered why would a gaudy outfit be needed here. It looked like a place where the customers didn't care what you looked like, much less wore, as long as they got what they came for. She couldn't help but keep judging the place. Her dark brown almost black eyes shot back to the mans, waiting for an answer.
"I'm not familiar with these streets you see, and I was given no directions." She said, feeling compelled to explain her lack of knowledge where she was, a bit more quietly. The sooner she could get out of here the better. Mainly because it would give her more time to wander around in case she got lost again. You'd think you'd be able to hear the festivities from the Moulin though that it would be easy to find the way there. Unfortunately the two place were a distance a part.
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Dorian Villeneuve
Chorus Girl/Boy
Don't they know they're making love to one already dead!
Posts: 19
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Post by Dorian Villeneuve on Nov 30, 2008 22:51:52 GMT -5
Dorian watched the poor girl rub her nose a little, obviously having hurt it when she bumped into him. There was a small pain in his shoulder, which was most likely the spot where she collided with him. He wondered what she would be doing there if she was just a random girl or even if she was a prostitute, considering they normally didn't take in "guest performers" and pimps didn't travel around so whores typically didn't stray too far from whatever street corner, alleyway or club they worked at. She couldn't have possibly wanted to be at Le Maison Derrière.
"It would be wonderful if you could Monsieur. I'm looking for Le Maison Derrière, is this perhaps it? If not would you know where it is? I was sent to give a package to a Madame Laetitia."
Then again, Dorian could be wrong sometimes. But she wasn't here for any purpose other than to deliver a parcel, which she had to pick up as she had dropped it when they had run into each other. But lucky enough, he would be able to help her by telling her her location and where to find Madame Laetitia, a coworker of his who had anything but an ounce of class in her.
"Well, you're lucky that you wandered into the correct stench-hole, mam'selle. This is Le Maison Derrière, home to Paris' most wanted men and women," he said with a fake sense of extravagance. It was the title The Master had given the place and he always said it after he gave the name of it, which annoyed all the workers greatly. It was bad enough they gave him free services, but to hear it that tired old title over and over again was murder.
"I'm not familiar with these streets you see, and I was given no directions." she said, almost embarrassed by the fact.
"Probably a good thing to say in this case," said Dorian looking at her with a good humored expression. "One wishes they didn't know the way to this place so they wouldn't have to come here so easily. But I will happily take you to deliver your package to Madame Laetitia and if you tell me where you're headed, I will give you directions back as well. By the way my name is Dorian Villeneuve, also known here as Le Bohemien."
He had said this in a 'pleasure to meet you' tone and made his lips smile without showing his teeth. The male prostitute began leading the way back into the dressing rooms backstage with the girl following him from close behind. They passed pictures of more well known patrons and reasons why The Master boasted about the place so much. It was really nothing to get excited about , but The Master was a prima donna when it came to Le Maison.
The dressing rooms were actually a dressing room, where both male and female performers changed without a care in the world. They had barely any decency and some of the more haughty performers showed off their bodies to members of the same and opposite gender. Dorian rolled their eyes at them as he passed, looking for Madame L. as she preferred to be called, her husband not knowing of her work after hours.
She was standing within a gaggle of other performers, two female, one male, in front of a vanity mirror, applying her horrendous make up and adjusting her breasts to make them more pleasing to the eye. Dorian cleared his throat as he approached them, which made them turn their gazes over to him.
"Why if it isn't the Prince of Whores, Monsieur Villeneuve," Madame L. said with a smile, showing off her dreadfully big teeth at them.
"Save the casualties Madame," said the man, not in the mood for her nonsense. "This girl has a package for you and she came a long way in the cold to give it to you."
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Post by eva on Dec 1, 2008 1:01:45 GMT -5
Oh thank god it was the right place! If it hadn't been she'd probably would have just given up and headed back. It wouldn't have been worth to spend more energy on the errand, especially since it wasn't even part of her job. The expression on Evangeline's face was of complete happiness! Her smile, a gleaming white, quickly faded though to a frown and her eyes became huge. Home to Paris' most wanted men and women?...Surely not...hopfully not...he must be joking. Yes it must be some sort of inside joke for he seemed to acting as if it is one. If he had had a serious face on she would be out the door and halfway down the street by now. This place gave her goose bumps and not because it was drafty.
Giving the best smile she was able to muster with nerves running through she said "Thank you Monsieur Villeneuve, your very kind." Villeneuve didn't look so entirely older when he smiled, even if it wasn't a teeth showing grin, it was better than nothing. Especially in this place. As they made there why toward the dressing room where the woman was, she kept her eyes on Villeneuve's back making sure not to let her eyes wander anymore. How strange for a prostitute of five years to so sensuous of strangers half naked bodies. It was almost laughable, and she was sure she would be laughed at if the people she refused to look at knew she was definitely not some new comer to the business of selling bodies.
"I'm Evangeline Laroque, from the Moulin Rouge. I don't really have a stage name." She said raising her voice more to be heard over the picking up commotion."It's a pleasure to meet you." Evangeline disregarded the multiple African affiliated names for her. They weren't really stage names, more like pet names. Her whole family knew what she did for a living, except maybe Antoinetta, so it wasn't like she had to hide her identity. Even if it was mentioned to her daughter the five year old girl wouldn't know what the person was talking about. However Evangeline desperately wanted out of the business before her little girl could comprehend why mommy was always sleeping half way through the day.
The dreadful thoughts always being a prostitute were thankfully interrupted by the meeting of Madame L. Putting on her acting face she should complete impassiveness toward the woman that Evangeline nose desperately wanted to wrinkle at. "Madame Laetitia? Cecile wanted me to give you this." She said handing that package over to the woman trying hard not to touch her or the gang around. "I believe it's a dress, and thats all I know." With a force smile she started backing out of the room. She had done the task and could run out of here at any moment now.
Sorry about the ending! Wanted to put more but my brain shuts off at 1 am
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Dorian Villeneuve
Chorus Girl/Boy
Don't they know they're making love to one already dead!
Posts: 19
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Post by Dorian Villeneuve on Dec 2, 2008 16:04:43 GMT -5
((OOC: Tis fine Eva! It's good enough for me to post a reply to and that's what counts.))
Dorian saw Evangeline quickly hand over the parcel to Madame L. and begin to slowly back out of the room. It was quite a normal reaction to what was going on around at the time and it was done with good reason. But this girl probably was used to more suitable surroundings, coming from the Moulin Rouge, which was a couple steps up from Le Maison. Nonetheless, she wanted to leave and quickly and Dorian would happily help her get back to her workplace.
"Mlle. Laroque, I'll give you those directions back to the Moulin Rouge, seeing as you don't know your way around this area very well," Dorian said, leading the poor girl out of the dressing area, where all the performers were marveling the costume Madame L. received. He walked over to the bar and asked for some parchment along with a quill and inkwell, all used to take down the drinks of the patrons.
Once he began scribbling down directions for Evangeline, he felt hands grab his waist, which made him gasp a little. "Dorian, my boy, you came into work late this evening," The Master hissed into his ear. The Master was not a handsome man, rather, he was quite ugly and had quite some years on himself. He always wore ratty clothing, an old jacket found in the alley, grease-stained shirts and trousers and on top of his slicked back red hair, a top hat sans the top. The sight of him made Dorian cringe, which is the main reason he didn't dare turn around.
"Yes, Master, I did, but with good reason!" Dorian said, almost pleading. "You see, my daughter, my Angelique, she is sick and..." his explanation was interrupted when The Master's cane collided with his leg.
"Give all the excuses you want, you'll still get more whippin's!" he spat at the man. "And don't even think for a second that you're gonna get away servin' the streets tonight, boy. Your pimp ratted you out to me and I'm not pleased with you missin' work, 'cause I'm losin' money!" The Master said, forcing Dorian to look at him. "Unless, you're willin' to give me something in return."
The Villeneuve man shuddered at the thought of what The Master meant, knowing exactly what he wanted. "I'll... I'll be up once I'm done with my act," he said, looking at the dirty floors." The Master smiled at him, not considering his stomach when he flashed a yellow smile. He walked away saying how all his boys and girls gave him what he wanted, a fact that Dorian knew too well. He wasn't the only one, no body was spared.
He turned back to the parchment and took the quill and finished the directions with a shaky hand. Dorian handed the paper to Evangeline and looked into her eyes. "This is the quickest way to the Moulin Rouge. It takes you through residential streets that aren't that long at all, which is a positive thing because of the cold."
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