New Orleans w/Jason

[mogget_cat]

From the bar, the two of them step out into the humid, New Orleans night. The clouds cover the stars and moon, leaving it up to the streetlamps to cast light upon the people who are out and about this evening.

There's the scent of rain in the air. Rain, and the scents of people, cheap hot dogs, alcohol, and the underlying scent of the city, always there.

"It's not far. Just a few blocks over," Yrael says as she looks out at Bourbon St.

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[loyaltyinmotion.livejournal.com]

The autumn wind and the winter wind
They have come and gone,
but still the days, those lonely days go on and on.
But guess who sighs his lullabies through nights that never end
My fickle friend, the summer wind

The music plays and his body sways contentedly with the music. If there's one thing he's sure of, it's what his body is doing, and it does it well.

Oh the autumn wind and the winter wind
They have come and gone
But still the days, those lonely days go on and on
But guess who sighs his lullabies through nights that never end
My fickle friend, the summer wind
Oh that summer wind
Oh warm summer wind
Mmmmmm...that summer wind...

He grins out at the audience, that familiar, cocky grin that he wears so well. He didn't do half bad, in his opinion.

[mogget_cat]

The audience certainly is appreciative, from the applause. Chuckling at the bar, Wik puts two of her fingers to her lips and lets out a surprisingly loud wolf-whistle before returning to clapping.

Bianca is looking smug, at her table. She is pleased.

[loyaltyinmotion.livejournal.com]

Jason tips his fedora and skips off the stage, heading for the bar. He gives a nod to Bianca, then to the occupied seats at her table. In essence, asking if he can boot them.

He stops at the bar and order another drink, grinning at Wik. "You've got a hell of a whistle." He quirks his head to wear Bianca is sitting. "You want to meet my friend?"

[mogget_cat]

"Gentlemen, could I bother you terribly? There are not enough seats for my friends!" Bianca says behind Jason, followed quickly by the sounds of chairs moving and people rising.

The table is neatly emptied, but for the quietest of the men who had been seeking Bianca's attentions. He lingers for a little while, trying to get up the nerve to say something to her, express his admiration of her and wonderment at her voice, but he is unable to get himself to speak before giving in to the impulse to vacate his spot at the table.

Wik smirks at Jason, stubbing out her cigarette into an ashtray. "My great-aunt taught me when I was little. She could be heard over half a mile a way." The last of her drink is swallowed before she gets to her feet. "Sure. Lay on, MacDuff."