InsaneJournal

Delia had developed a system for getting out of Virtue & Vice quickly after performances, without running afoul of lingering crowds. Some nights, she'd double a bouncer coming out of the back rooms. Rubberneckers at the entrance would part like the Red Sea. Easy enough. Others, when the traffic flow was less congested, she’d take the shape of a visitor exiting the bathrooms and ride the exiting tide of patrons as they spilled back out into the Midway post-performance. Both methods worked wonderfully. Tonight, the latter served her best.

The crowd mostly dispersed by now, Cordelia was loitering outside the tent, disguised as a young tourist partaking of the attractions by herself. The young woman she had doubled wore jeans, converse and a simple tee. A traveler’s cross body back was strapped over her back, securely fastened to deter thieves. Despite that precaution, she didn’t seem to be paying much attention. She was holding a phone up to the night sky, trying to use a glitchy app to match constellations in this foreign sector of the globe.

When her eyes lowered, she caught sight of Kennet across the way. Was he making rounds? Did the higher ups do that here? How unexpectedly humble. Delia jogged across the path. “Pardon me, sir. Could you tell me how to find the Big Dipper?” A wicked smile tugged her features. Somehow, it didn’t entirely match the woman’s face, nor her highbrow Manchester accent. “No? Perhaps the big cheese, the head honcho?” She waggled her eyebrows, moving on from bad constellation jokes to cliché office slang. Kennet knew who she was, of course. He seemed to know all, like Aladdin’s Genie. “Is this something you do, then? Amble? Might I amble with you?"