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Opulence
#11
Emily kept smiling, but inside she wondered. It sounded like someone had drugged Sebastian the night he and Enzo met. It at least explained why Sebastian didn't remember much. A brief look of disapproval went through Emily's features. She wasn't sure if Sebastian did drugs or not, but it was something she didn't approve of.

Enzo was here to buy clothes. She could see him in a suit. It would be a good look for him, especially if he kept the hair style she had made for him. She felt like something for formal would be better for him though - more black rather than the indigo or metallics that Sebastian seemed to be found off. Something non-glossy - more traditional. She had a feeling that Enzo would be more happy with that as well.

As it was, she was hear for the same reason too. An elegant evening gown is what she sought, and opinions would be wonderful. The difference between the two men would come in handy. Of course Sebastian would tell her how beautiful she looked, and Enzo - who was older - would tell her if it was appropriate. She needed to look professional, but still wanted to turn heads. If this happened, it would be her night and she wanted to look spectacular.

"Do they sell evening gowns there. That's what I'm looking for."
She asked Sebastian. She turned to where she could look at both men at once. "Maybe we could all go together - it's always more fun with friends."
She smiled, wondering where Sebastian had come up with Viktor - Enzo had said anything about anyone else being here with him.
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#12
Enzo opted to share little sympathy with Sebastian. With youth came foolishness, and the foolhardy sought anything to fill the voids in their lives. That day, Sebastian met them on the freezing Moscow streets dressed in the same sort of attire he sported now. He had been partying, clearly, although he knew how to maintain a semblance of sobriety about himself that Enzo would never be able to imitate. It was clear he had endangered himself with his life choices. If someone gave him an amnesia-inducing drug, he had only himself to blame. Yet Enzo saw beyond the swagger, tattoos, and stories. Whether or not Sebastian knew it yet, that terrible emptiness could only be filled with the dearest things a man held in life...


...Laughing, Enzo ducked when Mireille threw the cork across the room. They finished the entire bottle of wine without realizing it. "Open another, ma étoile," he said, snaking an arm around her shoulders to help her with the corkscrew....



Despite the younger man's displaced priorities, Enzo silently wished Sebastian would have the fortune to find such happiness and never let it go. "It seems we are going to the same place. Lead on, Sebastian, if you know the way?"
Enzo asked and by sheer proximity, invited Emily to join them. He cut himself short from offering his arm. The intimacy of the gesture felt wrong, despite it being the gentlemanly thing to do.

"Victor..."
Enzo's voice trailed into questioning memory. There had been another man with Sebastian. Enzo recalled Sebastian cracking a joke about the man's sexuality, hardly a prejudice someone would think existed in this day and age. The hurt look on the man's face was hard to forget. He didn't much like Sebastian's bullish attitude and arrogance, but it saved Enzo the time it would take to open a GUM map and find the clothiers himself. With all the attention on Sebastian, perhaps Enzo would be overlooked, also. He was attempting to accomplish this task with the least amount of attention possible.

So was Victor the name of the third man on that corner? Enzo assumed it was; there simply was no remembering the name, although he was sure it had been said.

"Yes, Victor. Although I believe he was more your 'buddy' than mine."


Poor Emily, he looked at her. She seemed to possess the urge to smooth every tension with the sparkle of her smile alone. To subject her to Sebastian seemed cruel, but Enzo let the responsibility go.

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#13
Emily wanted them all to go together. The power made Emily's enthusiasm clear. Bas was definitely game. She was hot. He'd enjoy helping her pick out a dress. An evening gown? Hell yeah he would. Enzo was game too. "Cool man. Yeah, Imperials is down here."
He lead the way. "From what I hear it's not like your typical place. I've got an appointment with one of the shoppers though. I'm sure he can help you out."
Bas was still trying to figure him out. As they walked, Enzo mentioned Viktor with some hesitation. More like confusion really. He hadn't been with Viktor.

He struggled to remember that night but all that came to mind was waking up with an angel ministering to him. Oh, and Pyotr sleeping on her chair. Was he referring to Pyotr?

He glanced at Enzo. If he was a player with the Kolomov's he wasn't good at it. Maybe he was just being too paranoid. But if he did see that bitch Viktor, he'd make sure the guy couldn't follow him anymore. He remembered how he'd killed Boris. That had worked pretty well. Course, if he used the same technique and the cops were around to question him, they might get suspicious. He'd have to get creative. Good thing he was learning new stuff from Nox.

They arrived at the door- it was simple and elegant and didn't go out of it's way to advertise itself. That's how these ritzy places were though. The people who went there knew what they were doing and had the money for it. Idly, he wondered what Emily and Enzo did to afford such a place.

They went in and it was decorated in maroons and golds and blacks. It oozed opulence. The girl seated at the chest high reception desk was smokin, a brunette with stunning blue eyes and hair pulled up on one side to expose her neck in a most inviting manner. He walked up to her, his eyes clearly taking her in. He gave her a smile while leaning on the counter. "Hi. My name's Sebastian. I have an appointment with Bruno around about now."
He put his hand on hers. "Please tell me he's late."


The flat 'are you freaking kidding me?' look she gave him made him laugh. He shrugged and gave her a sheepish grin that seemed to say "Hey, it was worth a shot." A smile threatened to break her look and he winked at her.

Then as if he had just remembered them, "Oh, these are some folks I just met. They're lookin to get something new as well."


She looked at him and them for a moment. Probably trying to figure out whether they could afford this place. He at least was wearing a silk suit. And Emily looked good. More than good, really. Evening gowns flashed to his mind. Especially laying at the foot of his bed. Her voice cut through the image. "Bruno will be here momentarily. Have a seat."

She gave him a look as he sat down. He winked back at her. It was all in fun.
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#14
Emily followed Sebastian and Enzo to the clothiers. She had been through this dance before. It was the kind of shop where you got personal treatment. She's been through it a few times before. Sebastian flirted with the girl at the front desk and Emily rolled her eyes.

The woman spoke to her. "I'm assuming you'll need to be separate from the gentlemen for awhile."

Emily nodded, and the woman looked at something on her screen. "Emelda is available, I'll call her and she should be with you shortly. Your name?"

Emily smiled. "Thank you. Emily."


Emily took a seat and waited, giving the two gentlemen with her a smile. Emelda was quick - a pretty, young woman with olive skin and a heart shaped face. She went to Emily - being the only other woman in the lobby, and Emily stood up to follow. "See you guys soon!"


She followed Emelda to the women's area of the store. "What can I help you with, Ma'am."

"I'm looking for an evening gown - suitable for a gala banquet. I want it to look professional, but still want to turn heads."


Emelda smiled. "I take it you'll be the hostess.

Emily returned her smile. "Yes. You could say that."


"Then we need to make sure you look spectacular. That shouldn't be difficult - pretty one like you."

Emily blushed at the compliment and Emelda laughed. Emily found herself liking the woman. They arrived at a place surrounded by mirrors and it contained a step stool and as well as tools for measuring. A dressing room was located nearby. Emily stood on the stool and Emelda started to measure. Emily was looking forward to this.


Edited by Emily Shale, Jan 3 2015, 03:33 PM.
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#15
Appointments with shoppers? Evening gowns? Enzo swam with strange fish. He followed the school, though, to the clothing shoppe M. White suggested. He'd already called ahead, on M. White's recommendation, and was expected to arrive soon. Their's was a strange world he found himself in.

The shoppe was nondescript in a way Enzo appreciated. He did not want to attract attention to himself, neither did he want to share the intended destination with strangers.

Emily was pulled away by a female assistant, and Enzo wondered if they would see her again before this was over. Once Sebastian stepped aside, Enzo approached the receptionist. "Here,"
he pulled the card given to him by M. White as offering. "I have an appointment already."


He was told this might take a while, but Enzo looked over his shoulder anyway as though M. White might walk in at that very moment.

She recognized the name, of course, and immediately lit into activity. "Yes, sir. If you would please step this way?"

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#16
Bas was a bit disappointed when Emily went off with her shopper. Oh well. It seemed Enzo also had an appointment and followed the receptionist. Bas took a nice look too, as she led him out of the room. Nice. Now that was what he was talking about. He inhaled slowly through his teeth, thinking. Might have to take another shot when she came back.

"Like what you see?"
He looked over to see a tall dark man watching him. He had some sort of accent though Bas didn't recognize it. While his tastes didn't run to men, he could see the guy was handsome. He was bronze and his wide necked shirt made it clear that he was quite fit. His hair was cut short and styled effortlessly. Probably a model at some point.

Bas gave him a wide grin completely unashamed at having been caught. "Who wouldn't?"
he stuck out his hand. "Name's Bas. You Bruno?"


The man took it and gave a firm shake. He could smell the faintest whiff of some sort of lotion with the movement. To be that dark in the winter, he probably hit the tanning places pretty regularly. His smile was easy. "Yes I am. You my 3 o'clock?"


"Yep. Looking to get a couple suits. Something nice. Flashy. But not clown like."
The guy should know what he meant. Just something that said he was there. Accented his personality.

The man looked his suit up and down, nodding. "I can see what you mean. Ok. Follow me. Let's look at materials first."
He led the way into another room where fabrics of every sort hung. Bas' jaw dropped. He completely ignored the sober dark grays and browns. But the metalics were awesome. He had a few black silk suits. But somehow these fabrics were brilliantly dark. Some of them even shimmered with some sort of rainbow-like mottling. Like gas did in the light. Others contained a mix of gold or platinum or silver. Others looked like precious stones.

Very quickly he pointed out the ones he liked. Bruno nodded silently and when he was done, made a few other suggestions, based on his coloring. Then it was off to accessorize. Ties, cufflinks, shoes, pocket squares.

Finally, he was led to a seat in front of mirrors. Bruno brought him some champagne and then different cuts of suits were modeled for him, with Bruno explaining the differences.

He could get used to this kind of shopping.
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#17
Emelda offered Emily a glass of champagne which Emily politely declined. She knew that she'd be moving quite a bit as Emelda measured. Emelda was quick and efficient at her work and wrote numbers down on a pad while she asked questions about her preferences.

"What color?" Emelda asked and the question caught Emily off guard.

"I really haven't thought about that."
Emily shrugged.

Emelda stepped back and looked at Emily. Her fingers moved to her chin in thought and then a bright smile crossed the woman's eyes. "I think I have the right dress for you."

Emily asked for some champagne and Emelda obliged before going off to get what she had in mind. Emily sat and sipped at the champagne before looking at the label - it was expensive stuff. Emelda returned a few minutes later with a silk green gown. "It matches your eyes." Emelda handed Emily the dress. "Try it on. While you change, I'll get some accessories."

Emily went to the dressing room and changed, noting where things would need to be altered. It was long and a little loose on her waist, but all in all, it seemed to fit well. She heard Emelda return and knock on the door. "Everything okay?"

Emily opened the door. "Yes - zip me please?"
Emily turned around and pulled her hair out of the way to allow Emelda to zip up the dress. Emelda then began to pin in the areas the needed adjusting.

"Are you ready to see?" Emily stalled for a moment and thought.

"No."
She said shaking her head. "I want to see the whole thing together."


Emelda smiled and turned the mirror around so Emily couldn't sneak a peak and instructed her to sit. Emily sat and Emelda knelt behind her and began to braid her hair. "You'll probably go with something more complex for your gala, but this should do for something quick."

Emelda finished the braid and placed a hand on Emily's shoulder, telling her to stay seated. A necklace appeared on her neck. The chain wasn't terribly long and it ended in a heart shaped emerald. Emily felt weight in her ears as Emelda put on some earrings and then told her to stand. Emelda stood with an open box, bearing green elbow length satin gloves. Emily put them on and Emelda sat the box aside before going to the mirror.

Emily nodded her readiness. "Miss Shale, you're not going to believe how beautiful you look." Emelda said turning the mirror around.

Emily gasped. The satin green dress hugged her curves despite the looseness in the waist. The dress itself was strapless, yet her cleavage was appropriately covered. The dress itself seemed to meet the line between sexy and professional. The green matched her eyes just like Emelda had said and despite how beautiful she looked, she kept going back to her eyes. The green of the dress, gloves, heart shaped necklace, and teardrop emeralds in her ears made her green eyes sparkle and shine like she had never seen before. Emelda was right. She couldn't believe how beautiful she was - how beautiful she felt. In that moment, Emily felt like a goddess.

"Oh...wow..."
It was the only thing Emily could say as Emelda smiled at her. Emily draped the braid over her right shoulder and thought maybe she would go with the braid for the gala - simplicity meets elegance - just like her.

Memories came to mind. Her dad had always called her beautiful - everyday as a little girl. Oh, Daddy...if you could only see your little girl now.
She thought holding back the tears.

Emelda now looked concerned, and Emily smiled at her. "I'd like to show my friends that came with me. Can I go for a bit."


Emelda smiled and nodded. Emily headed to the lobby and went to the receptionist. "You look lovely dear."

Emily smiled. "Thank you. I came in here with two gentlemen. I was wondering if they would come out and see me. I want to know what they think."
Emily gave the woman their names and description and then looked at herself in the mirror again. She could hardly believe it.


Edited by Emily Shale, Jan 5 2015, 04:36 PM.
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#18
As the others, Enzo was also greeted by a shopper. He was an older man, Parisian, whose accent was flawless. The sound of familiarity panged him, although Enzo had never been to Paris. He refrained from greeting his fellow national with their shared language. This was Moscow, and he was surrounded by strangers. There was no need. He was already as alone as could possibly be. It was like standing beneath a star-peppered sky, surrounded by light, yet completely untouchable.

"I need something appropriate to wear to Manifesto. The club-"
he began and soon was cut off.

"Manifesto indeed, Enzo. You've clearly never been before,"
the shopper replied.

Enzo shook his head. It was more than his present attire that spoke to his ignorance of such a place. "You are correct, Séverin. Such establishments have never been an important part of my life."


Séverin nodded. "In that case, what sort of personality would you like to project with your attire?"


That was a good question. Enzo looked around them. A pair of models stood on white cubes near the wall, frozen in their poses. "Fitting, but I do not want to draw undue attention to myself."


Séverin seemed to understand all too well, but such was his delicacy, he did not press for personal details. "In that case, I recommend a three piece suit for you. A slim cut, narrow tie, and soft black sheen would flatter your shape. You could use some broadness of shoulder, but not without compromising what is obviously a fit profile. We will put something together that you're comfortable in, yet is appropriate for the setting needed. You'll be handsome and stylish without being flashy."


Enzo sighed his relief. Séverin's straight-forwardness was appreciated.

Enzo was being measured in a tailor's jacket when a gentle beep called Séverin to the wall panel. Video of the receptionist came through.
"Excuse me sir, but Miss Emily Shale has asked to see Mister Dolan."


Enzo turned slowly. Why had she asked to see him?

Séverin waited patiently for Enzo's reply. "Would you ask her to wait a moment?"


A few minutes later he returned to the front of the store having stripped of his coat and sweater, wearing only an undershirt and his pants. The tattoo of a sun and three stars was apparent on one arm.

Emily waited, and Enzo looked upon her quietly until she realized he was there.


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#19
Some images never died. The dark suited, sunglass-wearing security guard with ear bud was one of them. Koloman and Mr White were often able to make anything look good. Dark suits and sunglasses were something the two large men seemed born to wear. Amid dozens of commonly uniformed security guards, working to hold crowds of fans and paparazzi at bay, the two Pervaya Iiniya Security employees stood out.

The 'impromptu' concert had been over for hours already. It was the usual stupid drivel; some BS story about wanting to do some quiet little show somewhere without all the hype. Of course, word of it was 'leaked' a week beforehand, and the venue in question was an even center that could hold thousands. Small by the standards of their current employer. And the fact that that 'small' venue was in Moscow further sunk any chance that it had been evenly remotely an honest desire for something low-key.

The concert and after-party had gone off without a hitch. A mob of exuberant fans and camera-happy paparazzi. A few clingy party-goers. Most of the rabble were kept well beyond arms reach by the day-to-day security guards and their employer's usual bodyguards. It wasn't until it was time to take their charge to the airport, moving her from the hotel to the airport, that something went amiss.

Who knew what set off such nutbars. A perfume commercial with some random male actor. Or a music video makin' lovey-dovey eyes with some other random idiot. Whatever imagined slight it was, Onyx, the world-renowned chart-topping songstress had seriously pissed off one of her die-hard fans enough that the looser was skulking about in the underground parcade of the hotel. The idiot, it turned out, had blown his entire life savings and a mortgage on his house just to bribe his way down there.

Most of the security detail was on the perimeter, doing the usual distraction to draw all the paparazzi to another exit. Her personal security were on the perimeter on the real departure side, leaving Koloman and White to walk her to her waiting vehicle.

It was the stereotypical underground parking garage. Concrete posts, areas of poor light, crowds of vehicles. Naturally, neither man were actually taken off-guard at the crazed fan's presence, and at White's signal Koloman had moved away from Onyx to intercept the idiot before the situation could escalate.

Of course, having a giant black man in a tight-fitted movie-thug suit walking towards your hiding spot was cause for most folks to be spooked. Most of course would have frozen in indecision, or fled with some hint of intelligence. Crazed fan-boys though...they were bold. Dangerously so.

The idiot surged out of his hiding spot and into Koloman's path, yelling the usual crazed obscenities. 'Cheating whore' or 'lying slut.' The usual stuff. It never did make any sense. Maybe it would turn out that she had said something nice to him at a concert; of course it would have been just the usual crowd-pleasing drivel aimed at a random unremembered face. Or maybe the closest he had ever been to her was a crowded concert.

Koloman moved on the man, but the distance was too far to cover on time, and the man's pistol was a pitifully tiny thing. A .22 of all things. Really, who even bothered with something that small? Seeing the gun, Koloman leapt forward to tackle the man, and White stepped between her and the would-be shooter.

Two shots rang out. Or piffed, really. .22s weren't exactly intimidating sounding weapons, even in the enclosed space of an underground parcade. Koloman and White would have to give the idiot credit; he was actually a pretty good shot, as both rounds plucked White clean in the chest...where they pebbled off his protective vest of course. Koloman took the man to the ground, breaking the man's hand and wrist.

Onyx didn't scream or panic; not exactly anyway. Maybe it was shock, but she took it all quietly. Probably some throw-back to her training as a singer; don't scream. Bad for your voice. So she huddled behind Hood and shrunk in on herself to make a smaller target. At some thirty meters out, the .22s still had a bit of punch to them, and he let out an annoyed grunt at the impacts.

Koloman had the idiot under control in short order, growling orders at the man as he cruely zip-cuffed the man's wrists together, with little concern over the broken one. The man's screams alternated with pain cursing and insults shouted at Onyx.

The songstress was bustled into her waiting car in short order; the driver made a good show, pulling up all dramatic like. Koloman and White exchanged a look and nod, and switched off roles; Koloman got Onyx in the car and drove away, while Hood took the task of collecting the maggot nutbar and waiting for the police. He'd been shot twice and it wasn't even 0500hrs. It was shaping up to be a fine day.

There was a few hours lost dealing with the police, and of course fending off a somewhat over-zealous paramedic fellow who was, likely, batting for the other team, so to speak. But eventually it was all dealt with and White was able to take his leave to deal with other tasks the day had conspired to lay at his door.

-----

White opted for a taxi from the police station to his preferred tailor where he had sent Enzo. A quick stop at his safehouse for the appropriate paperwork, where he had toyed with the idea of changing clothes but had decided against. The clothes he was wearing needed to be tailored after all.

Most people didn't notice the little details; the fact that the suit jacket and dress shirt he wore had two tiny holes in them. The walk from the cab to the Imperial Tailors was short for him; he wasn't one to gawk at the scenery or let crowds slow him down.

He strolled into the store as if he belonged there, nonchallantly shrugging out of his jacket undoing his tie with a few deft motions, revealing his revolver in shoulder-holster. The white dress shirt better showed the two small bullet holes against the black vest beneath.

"Good morning, Miss Ivanov."
White nodded a familiar greeting to the receptionist, who glanced up at him with a cool, professional expression that was only briefly marred by a wide-eyed glance at the revolver and holes in his shirt. He glanced at Emily, but it took him a moment to recognize her. She was known to his company of course, but the profile photos he had read of her were generally in business attire, not fancy dresses. "Miss Shale, yes? Imperial Tailors never fails to impress, but it is rare they are given so fine a canvas with which to work. Mr White. Pervaya Iiniya Security. DI's leading private and personal security option."


"Uh...Mr White. Hello. I believe your acquaintance is already here. Do you...you will need some repair work done, I take it?"
She easily pulled his file up on the display she had at her desk, and tapped in the information for the desired work at White's confirming nod.

"I'll just leave this with you then."
He draped the suit jacket over her desk, shrugged out of his shoulder holster and took off the dress shirt next. "If you could have someone run a loaner shirt and jacket to me in the mean time? Unless you have no complaints?"
He wore only the vest, with two small holes in the fabric layer, and a simple grey t-shirt beneath that of course, and glanced from the receptionist to Emily and back, eyebrow raised as if him waltzing about a high-end shopping center in a bulletproof vest and holstered revolver.

She was quiet for a long moment, not doing well at hiding a long look at his bared arms, then added a note to the file to have a shirt and jacket loaned to him. "This is entirely unseemly, Mr White. We here at Imperial Tailors have a reputation to maintain, after all."


"Of course, Miss Ivanov."
He pulled his archaic cellphone from the jacket then gave the pile of clothes a pat, "I'm sure we will be spending enough to make up for whatever inconvenience we cause you today."


She gave him a flat look, and he just shook his head and walked further into the store to find Enzo. He didn't need to go far; even as he turned to leave the reception area he was greeted with Enzo's sudden arrival, with a vaguely exacerbated Séverin working on, likely, a few choices for Enzo to choose from.

"Tired of being sized already, lad? Brought you some light reading to take your mind off it. Bonjour, Monsieur Séverin. Yes yes, my boarish style offends the senses of a refined..."
he petered off as Séverin frowned at him then vanished into a back room, then shook his head and held out the file folder for Enzo to take. "This is your homework. It will help you blend in."



Edited by Hood, Jan 5 2015, 11:32 PM.
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#20
Bas had his jacket off and was being measured when Emily's summons came on the monitor. He looked at Bruno and smirked. "Be right back."
Perhaps he'd get his wish after all.

He came out and noticed the new comer with Enzo and Emily. A hard man, with maybe ten years on him. His paranoia from earlier returned, but he masked it. He was on alert though only his eyes narrowed as it might do for anyone suddenly seeing a new person. While not dismissing the man- growing up as he did taught him never dismiss anyone- he did give his attention to Emily. Truth was, there was little this man could do to him, not if it really came down to it.

He looked her up and down in her satin green gown that seemed to accentuate every bit of her curves, her earrings and necklace drawing attention to her smooth white skin. His smirk turned into a slow smile. "Damn, girl!"
He whistled through his teeth. "You got my vote."


He looked at the new comer again and jutted his chin out in greeting. "How's it going. Name's Bas."
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