mogget_cat | Terrible Triad Touring Agency: New Orleans

Yrael grins as she steps out from the bar and into the deserted alleyway and the New Orleans early evening. She glances over her shoulder to see Liz and Nikola follow her through the door, which closes behind them.

"We've got a while before I have to be there for my gig," she grins at them, "so I thought I'd show you around the French Quarter."

Since, and she may be ever so slightly sheepish about this, she hasn't gotten around to doing so before.

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"Oh, fine," Nikola says, feigning annoyance. "We can get you to the club on time."

Liz leans and bumps Nikola lightly with a grin. At least she's careful that her beignet doesn't come close to his clothes? "We can find some other reason for you to be fashionably late somewhere."

Yrael grins at the vampire, amused. "Elizabeth and I could go, and you could follow in about half an hour?"

"And miss the chance to walk in with two beautiful women?" Nikola asks.

"Well you did want to be fashionably late." Liz adds, unhelpfully. "These things do occasionally have sacrifices, after all."

"One just needs to know one's priorities," Yrael smiles at him, teasing.

"Precisely," Nikola says, grinning and taking the teasing in grace.

Liz just grins as she drinks her coffee. Friendly teasing is amusing and fun, especially with this crowd.

Yrael bites into her beignet with an amused look on her face. "Not that the owner of the club doesn't already despair of my habit of arriving only a half-hour in advance of my performances. He puts up with it because of the crowd I draw. He knows my contract with him is up soon."

"And he's no doubt willing to be very generous in the renegotiation process?"

"Well if he wants to keep such a wonderful commodity, he should be generous," Liz murmurs as she sips her coffee.

"He'll likely end up being more generous than he'd like to be," she says, smugly, over the rim of her coffee cup.

She sips, finishing off her cup with a pleased sound. Hot, strong coffee, with sweet beignets and good company. Happiness.

"About ready to go, then?" she says, stretching.

"As it should be," Nikola says, finishing his coffee and wiping any stray bits of sugar off his fingers on a napkin.

Her coffee is finished and Liz herself gives a stretch and a nod. "Yep."

Yrael stands, grinning as she licks her fingers clean of lingering powdered sugar.

"It's just a short way from here."

She'll lead the way.

Nikola stands as well and offers his arms again.

That never gets old.

No, it really doesn't.

Liz slips an arm through one of his with a smile. She can't wait to see Yrael perform in the club.

Yrael takes Nikola's other arm, grinning at the two of them. She relishes the prospect of getting to show off, always, but this is particularly nice. She has sung for her friends, but only ever gets to let loose with her voice when she's in New Orleans, though even then she has to be careful. The anti-mutant sentiment is pretty strong in this world, and her appearance already is a stroke against her. Still, it is more than what she feels comfortable doing in Milliways.

She laughs as they draw near the club, seeing the crowded line outside of Ampersand. "No use trying to get through that mob. Come on, I'll get us in the back way."

"So nice to have connections," Nikola says with a grin as they head around the back.

Liz's eyes go to eye the crowed line as they pass it with a smile, "Isn't though. And such lovely connections at that."

"My friends are not part of the mob," she says, her tone definite, more serious than her momentary easy smirk before she turns to the rear door guard. He recognizes her, of course, and hearing that these are her friends, who have reserved seats, he lets them in.

As they walk through the back halls, they can hear the sounds of a band warming up, testing the acoustics and tuning what might need to be tuned.

Through another door, and they're in one of the more indistinct shadowy corners of the main room, partially hidden by a black curtain. To their left is the stage, with backup musicians continuing to make sure all the instruments (and there are quite a few) are ready. More chairs and tall, two- or three-person tables have been brought in during their absence, to make it so more people can sit and listen. All of the dance floor nearest the stage has been taken up. On the upper level on the far side of the bar, though, the second, slightly smaller dance floor has been left open.

For those few caught by the music and voice who might muster the concentration enough to dance.

"Not a bad setup," Nikola says, looking around the club.

Liz's eyes trail over everything, taking it in. She can't help it, she's never been backstage of a concert before and sometimes that cat attention span perks up.

"Looks like a nice set up."

"Glad you both like it," Yrael says, grinning. Ampersand is just a place to perform, for her, but like anything of quality one uses for a length of time, she has grown slightly fond of it.

The manager and customers have both gotten used to their slightly odd, semi-regular performer who doesn't sing music that is quite a home in a techno-club setting. But the management agrees: they have her under contract, and she brings in the people. They'll make use of her.

And she'll make use of them and their patrons. It's just good business.

"You two remember which table you picked out?"