2022-06-23 - Missing Articles of Clothing

It's not exactly Glimmer that suffuses the casino -- it's glitter. Glittering lights, reflections off the screens and shiny surfaces, and then, outside the huge glass windows, the sun on the surface of the water.

The woman who walks in this late afternoon does have that particular shine about her though, the one that registers some form of power. It could be that which makes Jules stick out like a sore thumb. Alternatively, it's her attire. She doesn't dress the part of one of Gray Harbor's up-and-coming, nor the tourists intent on a good time, whether that be in Hawaiian shirts or swanky dresses. Instead, Jules is demonstrably dressed for the outdoors, in short athletic shorts and the kind of tank top someone wears for working out. And she quite clearly does not know where she's going, pausing at the front desk to ask, "Is there a lost-and-found?"

The front desk concierge informs Jules, that yes, in fact, there was a lost and found. An extensive one. This was a casino. All manner of jewelry, wallet, keys, phones, anything could get lost in the frenzy of glitz, glamour, and gambling. The connected restaurant and bar didn't quite help the matter. Therefore, it was even logged by date, and considering how things went missing and legal gray areas, in a secure location. She buzzes one of the pit bosses to escort.

Nate wanders in off the floor, looking the absolute part. He had a fine suit, though no tie. There was a clear line to an earpiece he had in. He adjusts his cuffs, checks his coat button, and approaches. There was that quality to him, that slight otherness, but it seemed almost negligible.

"Ms. Black?" He asks, a hand placed casually in a pocket as the other is offered in greeting. He doesn't offer a name. That's what the name tag is for. 'Nate - Pit Manager'

It's shortly after Nate arrives that Mikaere, trailing behind Jules by several minutes, wanders in through the doors. He has at least gone to the effort of putting a collared shirt over his t-shirt, and replaced flip-flops (jandals!) with flat boat shoes; it's enough to render him a little closer to 'tourist' rather than 'underdressed vagabond', though he's still tall and brown-skinned. He takes off his sunglasses as he comes in, tucking them into the breast pocket of his unbuttoned shirt, and, having swept the room with a glance, crosses immediately towards Jules-- and Nate.

There's something like (or maybe very, exactly like) amusement in his expression as he draws up beside her, though he forestalls comment: she's here for a purpose, and he's just... here? He's just here.

There's the telltale tak-tak of heels to announce Perdita is approaching. Wearing a body skimming black dress that hits just above the knee, dark hair in soft curls and eyeliner sharp enough to wield in battle, a small clutch in one hand. She spots Jules and makes her approach, smiling brightly.

"I'm surprised, this doesn't seem like your usual hang out." ... but then Nate is there, and one eyebrow raises ever so slightly, and she glances at Jules with a slight tilt of her head that communicates worlds. Namely, 'do you need me to distract security so you can make a break for it?'

And then there's Mikaere, who gets a bright smile.

When Nate appears, Jules gives him the once-over with a marked look up, down, and up again. She's not checking him out per se; her attention is far more assessing, sharper. "That's me. Jules is fine," she informs him while accepting and shaking his hand.

The smile she gives Perdita is brighter, more relaxed. All's well, judging from her expression. "It isn't. But I want my mask back," she tells the other woman first, and then Nate. "I was here for the ball a couple weeks ago. A month ago? Man, was it that long already?" Her rhetorical question incorporates the others, not just the casino's employee. "I lost my mask. Do you have a bin for stuff from that night?"

That night. The Pride fundraiser, proceeds going to a Seattle youth organization, drawing in the who's who of town as well as the who isn't. The night that ended with the quite literal bang of mysteriously floating platters crash-landing in the trash bins. A magic trick, no doubt.

And Jules would be the woman who at one point was yelling bloody murder.

"Yes," An easy grin comes to Nate's face, a nod answering the question, "But I hope you can pick it out. You weren't the only one." This would be the point he'd probably usher her toward whereever the bin would be, but there was something odd about the other two as well. Sure, he'd been in town a little while at least, and he'd spotted other people that weren't, persay, hard to miss, but this rang a little strange to him.

His brows lower from simple customer service to noted observation. This was both ends of the spectrum for dress codes, with some in between. And the guy was just standing there. No greeting, no indication he knew anyone here other than the fact his presence didn't draw a strange look. Tack on that Jules' reminder was a bit of a lightbulb moment. Set of pipes, this one. Maybe it was safer to...

"I'll go retrieve the bin, if you wait a moment." A incline of the head is offered each the other two, then he turns to wander off to do as he says. He only glances back once. What self control!

Evidently Mikaere was simply waiting for his moment, because as Nate turns to wander off, he nudges his hip against Jules' by way of greeting, and includes Perdita in his broad, cheerful-enough smile. He's got half on eye on Nate, though, even so, enough to catch that backwards glance, which turns his smile just a little bit smirkier. "I'm not even remotely surprised that yours wasn't the only mask lost," he says. "Or that half the people involved haven't been back to collect things. Perdita, at least you look like you fit in around here."

He's not uncomfortable, here, though the way his gaze sweeps about the room? There's something on his mind.

As Nate glances back, Perdita flashes a smile at him, as if to indicate she was expecting nothing less, but then she turns her attention once more to her companions. "He doesn't trust us in the lost and found storage area." Perdita tells the pair, softly, with a wicked little smile. "Did you really come all this way back just for your mask?" Dita asks the other woman, smiling. "I remember you... made it, right? I definitely get that."

"Thank you. I'm sugar daddy hunting... though truth be told it's mostly window shopping." There's a faint little pout as she looks over the folks wandering about, but then she's grinning. "Honestly I just needed a day away from manual labor."

"Sure, thanks."

Jules can just barely restrain her urge to go tailing after Nate, though, muttering to the other two as he heads off in search of the bin of lost ball things, "I bet it'd be a lot faster if he just let me look." She hip-checks Mikaere right back, though he's tall enough that it'll fall low.

"So is this your usual feeding grounds?" The question's for Perdita, and the once-over she gives her is a whole lot more insinuating. "Stomping grounds, I mean," Jules self-corrects with her own smirky smile. "Excuse me. And yeah, I did make my mask, so I want it back. I'm gonna put it on my bedroom wall where it can look super creepy." This time, her grin is for Mikaere. "I did think maybe if I fed a few coins in a slot machine, maybe they'd ply me with free drinks, but he--" Her thumb indicates the man accompanying her. "--says I'd have to be dressed more like you for that to happen. Which kind of just makes me want to try to prove you wrong, for the record," Jules informs Mikaere directly.

Nate returns after a moment, rolling a cart. Atop was a clear plastic pin with those tops like crisscrossed teeth that fit together to make a flat lid. It was open, because of course, it was overflowing. Masks, absolutely, of many kinds, but also some other things, including a whole actual cocktail dress and a lacy black brassiere. Look, it was a wild night. He parks it in front of Jules and waves as if to say have at it. If he cared what she dug out, he didn't seem concerned.

Mikaere gets a side eye, the professional sort. It seemed he did know the women, Nate had observed, so maybe he'd driven Jules here or something. Perdita wasn't so much ignored as she didn't get a second glance. She seemed perfectly suited to this environment. No suspicions in Nate's mind, at all. He seems to have missed the conversation so far and stands idly waiting for Jules to locate her mask.

"We can all use a day away from manual labour," enthuses Mikaere, in that not-from-around-here accent of his: Australian? New Zealand? South Africa? Could even be British, who knows. "Faster, maybe, but... look, I reiterate my point: place like this, they can smell money, and lack thereof."

He steps away from Jules to let her hunt through the lost and found in peace, turning instead to glance back at Nate-- unfamiliar, but not without a hint of that thing that makes a person stand out. "What a night that was," is what he says, keeping his tone cheerfully neutral, intended perhaps for the two he knows as well as the one he doesn't. "Guess the party continued, huh. You worked that night?"

Okay, so that question is definitely for Nate in particular.

There's a slight tilt of her head and Dita quirks a brow at Jules 'slip of the tongue'. "Is there really a difference?" she twirls a strand of hair around one finger, playfully fluttering her lashes at Jules. "Actually, though... I've only been here... twice? Once for a spa day, before I got my hot tub installed, and for the party. I might actually try gambling today."

"If you want free drinks, you've got to look like you're worth free drinks... or at least do something to get the girls a bit more on display so men hang around you. Modest cleavage goes a long way." she glances down at herself self depricatingly, "Of course, for some of us modest cleavage is all we can manage."

As Nate returns, she smiles at him again. "It was definitely a night to remember..." and then she glances into the tote, bringing the clutch up to hide her smile as she spots the bra and cocktail dress.

"Do you think they care, as long as you're playing?" Perdita's remarks have her looking down at herself. Jules isn't lacking in that department, and while an athletic top paired with a sports bra may not be the most revealing outfit, it also does the job.

But then. Bin! Jules dives right into it. The hunt is on. "Nope, nope, nope, oh hello." The dress isn't hers, but she will absolutely pull it right out and let it unfurl from her fingers. "This is my friend's," she straight-up lies, looking Nate in the eyes. "She'll want it back."

"Yeah, wild night." Nate agrees to the sentiment. Ok, Mikaere, now you're actually getting the look in earnest, brows lowered, eyes narrowing slightly. Then Perdita too. Sure, there had been some strange happenings, but... It could have been anything, really. He's distracted by the girlish mouth-covering, noticing and smirking himself, sharing the amusement. When Jules pulls the dress out there's a careful marshalling of his features, something plenty of liars knew to do.

"If it gets back its owner, all the better." Absolute professional. If he saw through the lie, if he assumed something different, it really just seemed like he wanted it out of his storage room and not his problem. This earns him a side-eye from the concierge nearby, to which he looks back and shrugs. Yup, professionally not giving a fuck. He goes back to sizing up the two vague-talking, strangely noticeable people that were still hanging around.

"They care," is Mikaere's opinion, which doesn't mean he's not ogling Jules just a little bit anyway. He's a guy; it's his thing.

The tall foreigner has definitely noticed the look he's getting, and lifts his brows in response: something the matter? As noticeable people goes, there's something very noticeable about him, beyond the height and the accent and the not-local ethnicity. He's distracted by this, enough so that he only seems to pick up on what Jules is doing too late, and when he does?

He freezes. "Jules," comes out a little strangled; there's a faint, tell-tale flush on his cheeks, too. "That's--"

"Depends on who 'they' are." Perdita murmurs to Jules, before watching her curiously digging...

"How did she lose that dress, Jules? Fall out of her bag on the way out of her room the next morning...?" Perdita absently lets a hand run over the fabric, glancing up at Mikaere. "Or did she maybe have help losing the dress?" Perdita is definitely not blushing. If anything, there's a hint of wicked amusement in those dark eyes. She glances at Nate, including him in the joke with a friendly smile.

Jules, in turn, can't fully hide the sheepishness that emerges when Mikaere pipes up, though at least she doesn't flush. "I'll tell her to come in and get it herself," she says hastily, letting the dress fall back in the bin. "It's just. You know. No one's going to want to come in and claim a dress. Or a bra. It's too embarrassing. So it's probably just going to sit in lost-and-found until the end of time." But apparently not go home with Jules today. This doesn't stop her from sharing a speculative sidelong look with Perdita. "Pretty sure it's a little of column A, a little of column B."

Time to change the subject. "I'm not seeing it," Jules states after another minute of pawing through the lost and found. "Do you mind if I just look around a little?" she asks Nate. "I took it off in the bathroom, I know that. Maybe it got missed in the clean-up."

Oh, are we making fun of the guy being embarrassed? Nate absolutely seemed in on it.

"While I'm not sure what you're getting at," he remarks, glancing at Perdita with a look that says anything but, "The Grand Olympic is a place where most forms of enjoyment come with a little risk." How can this man keep a straight face during this, especially with Jules backpedaling? It was almost mean. "But also, I'll remind you most areas on the premises are restricted to those twenty-one and older. And are usually monitored via closed-circuit video." So if you have sex here, it's probably on camera, he was probably saying.

"Sorry. I'm not sure you're going to have luck if it's not in there," He seemed genuinely to apologize for her being unable to find it, but does nod and wave a hand, "As long as you can present ID before going on the floor, absolutely." The customer service smile is added with only the slightest glimmer of mischief in his eye. He was still enjoying the joke.

Mikaere makes a face. It's probably due to a combination of the joke being extended (at his expense, naturally) and Jules looking sheepish; it's not as if he intended that. He presses his expression back into something more neutral, lifting one bushy eyebrow in comment towards Nate, because he's the untrustworthy one here (allegedly).

"I'm sure there are those who care a lot about the security of these premises," he says, evenly, composure regained. "And those who don't. Jules-- it's not still going to be there. It's been weeks, and it was kind of a mess that night. Things were." Not Jules. Never Jules. "I'm sorry. Let me buy you that drink."

And to Nate, "Thanks for your help."

Whatever actually happened that night between Jules and Mikaere, Perdita has clearly edited events in her own mind to include a drunken tryst in a broom closet... or at least that's what her expression is implying. "Why would it be embarrassing to claim a dress or bra?" Of course, this is Dita. It's been established that she has no shame, many times.

"Ooh, closed circuit cameras." She glances at Jules and Mikaere, brow raising again. Yep. Shameless. "Yes, thank you for helping Jules, Mr... Nate." Perdita smiles again at the man, before looking to her friends. "I should let the two of you get back to your afternoon of fun, I fully intend to double my money playing poker."

Eyebrows lift. Jules certainly catches the meaning underlying the talk of cameras, and she presses her lips together firmly to keep her expression under control. Dita is not helping. Not one bit. And she certainly knows just how uninhibited Jules was that night, at least in the verbalization department. "I think it would all depend on the circumstances," she says as neutrally as she can. "See you around, Dita. Good luck with your winnings."

Jules finally risks a glance Mikaere when she answers him. "It might be." Her eyes are a little wide with her plea, one that only partially has to do with the missing mask. "Just one look." She starts digging in the canvas tote bag she's carrying, producing a slim wallet and then, from there, her ID in the form of a perfectly legitimate Washington State driver's license. "Here."

Look, if you consider what was left in the Lost and Found tote, at least the lady (or whoever) in question left with their underwear. If they were wearing any. We don't judge here. There's a quirk on the edge of Nate's grin, Perdita's additions to the teasing finally getting a small crack in the poker face. He covers it over by taking the ID from Jules, making a show of inspecting both sides, then handing it back to her.

"Thank you." A hand is lifted to indicate she was welcome to proceed as she wanted, and he tips his head toward the bin, "Anyone else lose anything?" He seemed oblivious to Mikaere's barb, but not to the clearing of throat from the concierge nearby, who had briefly ducked down to keep their laughter out of sight.

"Right, of course, my pleasure," aimed to Perdita's thanks, and then, "I hope you folks enjoy." he adds cheerily, and makes to roll the cart away again.

It turns out Mikaere is more bothered by the possibility of his not-girlfriend taking things that aren't hers from the lost-and-found than by being the subject of some salacious gossip (or video); he doesn't so much as blink (except, that is, for the normal kinds of blinking a person does. He's not a monster). There's a little twitch of his smile as he acknowledges Dita, echoing Jules' comment with an even, "Good luck."

Whatever Jules is getting at, he may be less certain, but he shrugs all the same: if it makes her happy. Fine. Sure. Whatever.

"Thanks," he says, aiming the comment after Nate. He's watchful. Not suspicious, but certainly... thoughtful, in a way.

Her goodbyes said, Perdita flashes one last shameless, mischievous smile at the couple, as if to celebrate the fact that she made Nate's poker face crack. What? He's tall, he's handsome, he has access to secured areas... and then she's heading off onto floor with that subtle sway to her hips, heels clicking softly as she walks.

Jules wants her gosh-darn mask. As it turns out, that wanting transforms into a stronger desire, one that taps into her in a way that she doesn't quite realize. Once her ID has been returned and stowed away, she starts to head towards the bathroom -- only to suddenly pivot and unerringly beeline back towards the concierge desk.

She doesn't ask permission. She wouldn't get it, anyway. Quick as a wink, she steps behind the counter and pulls out a drawer to the surprised, indignant, "Hey! Lady, you can't do that!" of the person manning the front desk. But then there it is, dangling from Jules' fingers by black ribbons: her raven mask, beak still intact and pointily curved. "Found it," Jules pronounces, satisfied.

"Jules." For the second time in one afternoon, Mikaere is put in a position where he needs to protest Jules' actions-- and it looks like he's feeling really weird about it, too. But she's found her mask, and... he hesitates, stopping uncomfortably where he is, right there in the middle of the floor.

Beat. The lift of one brow. The awkward pause.

"Well," he says, taking a few steps forward. "That's good. C'mon. Let's get out of here."

Flee.

Fleeing is an excellent idea.

“Bye!” Jules calls gayly, and out the exit she goes before anyone can call security.