Irene Adler (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thedominatrix) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
multiversallogs2012-02-04 05:37 pm
thedominatrix) wrote in multiversallogs2012-02-04 05:37 pm
→ sweet dreams are made of this.
Who: Irene Adler and YOU YES YOU
What: Uh- work, shopping, drinking, seeing the sights, picking up chicks, going to dinner, anything you like.
Where: The Vault, various boutiques, restaurants, gay clubs, out on the street, anywhere at all. If you can think of somewhere to be, Irene is quite possibly there.
When: Here all week, baby.
Notes: Just pick where you're setting it and say when/where they are in the header. It needn't be somewhere mentioned here! If you think they could run into each other elsewhere, then go ahead- and if you think it ought to be an arranged meeting rather than a chance one, then that's probably fine too.
Warnings: Sex, drinking, kink, the Vault...and Irene.
Irene's life has changed since coming to Baedal.
Technically, superficially, her life has improved, which she doubts happens to many people once are magically transported against their will to a place where you oughtn't to look too closely at, say, shadows, because there's almost always something that's going to lurk there- but since when was back home safe, exactly?
Here, at least, she can work properly. She likes the Vault, even if she's used to being her own boss. It's enormous and extravagant, dirty and debauched and full of people she likes, whether they're her coworkers or her clients- it feels like a home away from home.
Her job, of course, doesn't stop and start with brandishing a whip. No, she'd get bored too easily that way. It's fun, but it's only what happens on the surface. What she does is single out people who interest her, who can give her something- whether that's money or influence or just fun. She knows how to spot public figures afraid of being noticed, tugging at their suits and sweating- she knows which people don't want her and which want her so much they have to pretend that she's the last thing on their minds. She knows whose CiD she wants to look through while they're distracted (panting, eyes closed, unconscious, sobbing, drugged, drunk- whatever, as long as they trust her and she trusts herself). She enjoys her time at the Vault, and watches a number of acts between working, but never forgets that she's there to do her job.
When she's free in the evenings she can go out, a strange feeling for someone who is so used to being on the run. There is, of course, Mycroft Holmes to contend with, but she really can't imagine him sampling the nightlife. She's careful not to become a regular anywhere just in case, though more often than not she's found in gay clubs. She doesn't often go home alone; in the mornings, she's polite and kind but ensures that the women in her bed aren't in her bed for too long, and doesn't make use of any CiD numbers they might leave.
And then there's money, fashion, food, exploration, a whole new world. Irene loves to travel, and it's not really travelling when you're running. Baedal changes daily and she's barely seen half of the city, or that's what it feels like. She dines out often, alone or with some of the connections (friends?) she's made, and she thanks her stars that her job pays well, because she has a whole new wardrobe to build up.
Irene Adler, therefore, is living again. And if she sometimes finds herself alone, with no distractions, and feels claustrophobic, knowing that she is in the middle of the city and there is no world outside of it, knowing that she can't hop on a plane with a faked passport and be someone else somewhere else, knowing that she is trapped-
-then that is a very minor detail.
no subject
Her smile is suddenly easy, and she finishes her drink in one go, but without any hurry, "Thanks, and thanks for all your help."
She slips off the stool and neatens her dress, before offering another warm smile, "It was nice to meet you, Irene."
no subject
"But wait. Just ten seconds."
Another test. How does she react? What is she thinking?
As she muses, Irene slips a hand into her bag and comes up with a pen. "Give me your hand," she suggests, twirling the pen between her fingers, a smirk tugging on her lips. "Or something to write on."
no subject
When the pen appears, Steph inwardly relaxes and manages a small laugh before offering her hand, "I need to get in the habit of carrying a notebook." She could, theoretically, offer her CiD to input a number, if this is going where she thinks it is. But that would be dangerous.
no subject
A joke which is not actually a joke.
She scrawls a number on the back of Steph's hand, aware that she's giving over a vital part of the puzzle she's created for the other woman- but so what? She's not Militia, not as far as Irene can see. And she'd rather Steph not mistake her for Militia either, not when she wants to know what she's up to. And yes, she's handing over information- but a part of her is eager to see just what Steph can do with it.
"Give me a call if you change your mind."
no subject
Steph isn't sure what to make of recieving the number, and se's a little surprised when she notices they're on the same cohort, but she tries not to show it. Still, her eyebrows may go up a little before she looks back up at Irene and smiles.
"I might," at the very least, she'll be trawling through all of Irene's conversations on the network, "Thanks again, I hope you have a nice night."
With a small wave, Steph carefully winds her way through the crowd and leaves the bar. Once outside, she starts walking at a casual pace, heading in the exact opposite direction she needs to go; just in case.