Welcome to the show (Everyone welcome!)

[Lysette]

Emeraldrose Productions presents, the City party of the year.
Thrown by myself, of course.
In a grand building in Elysium, several shows will be playing tonight, while refreshments are served all around.
Damien is a gem! He got everything set up for this perfectly tonight.
Wandering around a bit to check everything just before opening, I'm very pleased with his work.
Sheila is there, veiled so no one can see her, shadowing my moves as I go.
Tonight is a special treat for her, well at least the first show.
After Dita's performance, Sheila will probably turn in for the night.
The dangers of us being in public together, even with her veil, is not worth it.
I can see she's practically glowing, getting out in public with me tonight, as much as I'm sure getting to see Dita is something she's wanted for a long time now, she's quite the fan.
Perhaps after, I will let her 'meet' Dita quickly.
As it is, the place is opening, and I should be greeting. I turn to my ghoul,

Mon Amor, go an' sit in tha fronn row o' room 3, where Dita's show is held. I' join ya when I can.

She does as I say instantly, and I head over to welcome the guests, playing the hostess of the show.

[Sheila]

Tonight is going to be perfect!
My Mistress is actually letting me go out with her, to see Dita's show!
Well, actually, it's a Vampire party, but I'm only going to see Dita's show.
I don't mind. I never get to go out in Public with Lysette, so I will take what I can get.
As it is Emeraldrose hosting this shindig, Lysette is busy making sure everything has been attended to.
Judging by her responses, I'd say things are as they should be.
She seems really pleased.
Though I wear a black-lace veil over my head, I can see much more through my side than you'd think. Lysette gave me a small drink to boost my senses just for that.
After running around checking on things, Lysette turns and tells me to go wait for the show, and her, while she works, and I nod my head,

"Oui"

I go right where she told me to, getting us good seats, as there isn't anyone else in the room yet.
I can see the entire stage from here, even through the veil.
The stage is currently masked with a thick, dark red curtain, and I can hear people rustling behind it, final set up before it starts.
This is going to be an amazing night.

[Damien]

Ahh, the mixed blessings of The Party. It needs no other title than that of course. It is all too rare to have a party that encompasses the tastes of Every clan, and Lysette's efforts are always quite amazing. Tonight will certainly be a night to remember...Of course, this is taken with the usual pitfalls of an interclan party. Providing the proper bloodtype for the Ventrue, keeping the Brujah from starting a brawl in the middle of the violin recital...its all quite a great deal to work with, even for someone of my unquestionable skills.

I move through the party carefully, prowling about for additional problems to deal with, talking mildly with the odd Ventrue or Brujah, working my way across the room, dealing with the myriad mild complaints, indulging my own enjoyment of my vintage of blood, half waiting for Whitney's arrival as I work. Noting with interest that Lysette seems to have brought her ghoul to this event, dressed as ever in a black veil. Once she has past I hear the rumor explode in soft whispers about the ghoul's head covering. The popular rumor seems to be that she remains veiled to keep from entrancing her domitor...A claim I listen to with mild amusement. The fancies of foolish minds. I don't know the precise details myself...but I would suspect it has more to do with the typical Torreador obsession with mortal love than any capacity to be enraptured. Probably some foolish romantic notion.

Not really my concern. No doubt Aidoneus could shed more light on the subject...but then he is more the sort to recieve than give information...I'm not certain if he will be here. Most Nosferatu shun public gatherings for obvious reasons...but then Aidoneus seems much less effected than most in this regard. I do think I saw one of his minions earlier...Mask I believe he is called. One would think a Nosferatu could better use Obfiscation to hide oneself...but then they are a very cryptic clan....

For now I only concern myself with the party, moving over to Lysette with a smile, humor quirking at my lips as I speak, my voice low and soft, unconsciusly adjusting my tuxedo as I speak, dusting off the odd bit of lint.

"My dear Lysette...you are lovely as ever. Your ghoul seems to be making such a stir with her wardrobe choices...I assume the party meets with your approval?"

[Carmine]

Well, the night is young, and I’ve already had my fun. I’ve even diluted the fun out of my system so I can attend this hoppin’ shindig. Or is it a hootenanny? I always get the two confused. Seems more formal, with all the arrangements and lack of mosh-pit. I’m guessing it leans in the shindig way. I see pretty much no one I know, but I heard Kami is floating around somewhere, supposed to perform tonight. That’ll be cool…I guess…for all I know she sucks. I drift around from group to group, tossing my name in and catching their’s. I really don’t care for the conversation, nothing too exciting out of the usual basic politics and social affairs. Sure, that stuff is all fun and games to me sometimes, but I’m just here to shake hands and listen to music tonight. Massive rebellions and changing the new world order can wait another dusk.

What’s with the veiled chick? I stop and look over her and whoever she’s with curiously. Not the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen, but a bit off. The veiled girl heads off somewhere and the redhead is greeted by a very hoity-toity chap. I wasn’t mad aware of any dress code, so I figure my worn jeans, boots, and leather jacket are enough. Oh, and a shirt. Fancy enough by my standards.

I stroke a few more egos as I make my way to Hoity and Red, listening to the basics of what they’ve said. Hello and congratulations and good job with the ghoul...that would explain Miss Veil. Guess I’m looking at Mr. and Mrs. Shindig now. I lift an eyebrow with half a smirk, looking from one to the other. They need more mud and blood and vomit on them. It would make them more interesting. Ya know, another dose would be nice. After this I’ll give myself a nice cap-off.

[Whitney]

I breeze through my paperwork quickly at the beginning of the night. Just business really, same old same old.
But tonight's the party, and I don't want to be more than fashionably late.
Of course, business before pleasure, so I take a stack from the in box and set it in the out box, complete with proper signatures and all that.
After making quick of my work, I had out of my private office, and into my mansion more, heading up the lavish stone stair case to my rooms.
3 handmaidens are already there, each with their own specific job and specialty.
The first greets me with a smile, helping me out of my usual suit jacket, silk blouse, and business length skirt.
As soon as I'm down to my undergarments, she sets to re-clothing me, a royal purple gown, pulled over my head with a brush of velvet against my flesh as it falls into place.
She then straps a simple black waist cincher over that, Black opera length gloves to match, and black pumps.
The velvet is form fitting with a slit up to mid thigh on my left leg.
After everything's in place, she is excused, and the other two pull me over to a chair, one brushing my hair, the other applying makeup.
It doesn't take them long, and I'm ready for the party.
My driver holds the door to the Mercedes limo open for me, and closes it, driving the short distance to our destination.
Fashionably late, is still a couple moments off. But that's O.K.
I don't make much of a fuss or flashy entrance heading in.
Though I am sure Damien felt my arrival, I still stay out of his line of vision a bit, standing back to just look at him.
He's not just wearing a regular suit tonight either, he looks very dashing in his tuxedo.
Though at first, I only have eyes for him, it starts to be noticeable that he's next to Lysette, and someone I've never met before.
The one I don't know has the kind of rugged good looks you expect one of my position to see in her help.
When the help are good looking, it makes things more pleasant really.
Finally sating my want to just look, I join, a smile for Lysette, a nod to the new guy, and my hand passing lightly over Damien's arm once I'm in touching distance.
I lean forward to do the quaint 'kiss kiss' thing with Lysette, always a pleasure to have her company, and always a good hostess.
I turn to the blond guy, looking him over closely before offering him my hand, not in the barbaric 'shaking' manner, but palm down for just the simple touch of fingers.

I don't believe I've met you yet.
I am Whitney.
And you are?

[Carmine]

Another redhead. Is it just popular in the city? Doesn’t really matter. She looks like another Hoity. Not my favorite, but what can I expect from a mixed crowd? With any luck a bunch of Gangrel will come in and turn this place into a zoo. She, well, Whitney, holds out her hand and asks for my name. Oh, that’s cute, she does the whole “delicate lady” thing. I smile and gently take her fingers in my hand, giving her a soft shake. No way I’m kissing that thing. It’s too clean.

“Whitney, I’m Carmine. Pleasure to meet you, I must say that is quite a lovely dress you have on. Classic sophistication, but still modern.” I offer a polite smile and slowly let go of her hand. It’s so weird. I just had blood under an hour ago, but something in my mouth tastes like a wad of bullshit. I really don’t give a fuck about most of these guys, and frankly it pains me to be civil to the bastards. But, being the new blood means you’re easier to wash away. So until I get good footing, it’s time to spread my cheeks and take it.

“I’ve only been in this city for a day or two, but it’s nice to meet a good crowd. Gives me hope for staying here longer than a week,” and not totally fucking up anyone that gets in my way. My smile remains as I take note of her arm around the guy talking to the other redhead, who is apparently called “Lysette” from what he says. Sounds Spanish.

[Fate]

This wasn't his Debut or anything, he had been in the City for more than a month. Perhaps rumors have permeated into the Vampiric Society, that a Ravnos was within their ranks. Legendary figures of deceit and thievery, known to be able to stab anything with a back and now one had bowed it's head to the Camarilla. Giving up whatever freedom it thought it had as part of an Independent Clan, Fate was what he gave as his name, of course it wasn't all of it and most likely wasn't even his twentieth alias to date. Though he was neonate by blood, he was a part of the older world and so his tastes differed.

So when he strode down the the street towards the Elysium, he got some attention as he wore a replica Victorian Era vest that held no collar. A light shirt and a long black jacket, suit pants and boots hidden beneath the folds of cloth. He wasn't the sort for hats and so left that out of his personal ensemble. His smooth manner of movement, to his wry smile that etched itself upon his sleek features matched his height of six feet. Walking up through the threshold, he'd see others, some he had met before in passing, others he had never spoken to.

He had been laying relatively low, exploring the city streets in silence. Hidden away from what people perceived as interference, he met people and got used to the scenes around the City. So when the time came, he would make a fuss but he was to make as many allies he could and hoped the Kindred society would not frown upon his entry. Then again, he didn't really care if they did or not, it was the burden of the Ravnos.

Upon seeing the Hostess, Lysette, he would give her a half bow, a performers bow in truth as a greeting before nodding to everyone else. Whatever was expected of him would be cast away with the casual glance he gave to each person as he introduced himself. Though Fate would have it, that they would understand his predicament as an Outsider made anew.

"Greetings esteemed hostess... I hope that my attire is fine for this event..."

Fate would say with no ounce of falsehood, sincerity leaked from his smooth and even enchanting voice. Calmly his eyes watched and his stance unchanged by those about. He was so close that one could see that his being spoke to them more like that of the Kine than Kindred, the blush of health perhaps or perhaps something more as he didn't seem to be weaving deceptions. As everyone believed to be true of the Ravnos.

[Lysette]

Damien comes up first, having been here for the set up, dusting off his already immaculate suit, his words making me smile instantly.

Merci Damien, Your' lookin' very handsome yo'rself tonight.

I give an amused look on his comments on Sheila's wardrobe, already prepared for this to be a subject.

Maise, de wardrobe choices never 'er own. What's de fun o' ghouls if ya can't tell dem what ta do? Dat veil is punishment. 'Ow else train someone more vain dan myself, dan by takin' dem ta da party 'o de year, an' not let dem show off deir good looks?

It's a very believable, and subtle lie really. Even if I could use Disciplines here, I wouldn't bother on this one. If others think it's punishment, they won't try to mess with it at all, as they all must be tempted to see what Sheila is hiding under that veil. Good deterrent.
I positively beam at the his next line,

Oui! Cela outshines de approval! You 'ave really outdone yourself on dis one!
Maise, I can' get into 'De Black Room' exhibit ta see in all it's complete glory, witout losing de rest o' de night ta trance, but vraiment, ya do wondaful work 'ere as our Keeper.
Whitney is de lucky Vampire.

I give him a playful smile at the comment, when someone comes by, and I keep all 'personal' jokes to myself, the rough looking man just staring at us.
I smile, and start to greet him, to give him the usual 'welcome to the show' spiel, when Whitney seems to show up, stealing the spotlight as only a Ventrue could, standing next to me, that is.
I give her the usual 'kiss kiss' as she breezes in, saying hello to the new guy herself.
He compliments her dress, very articulate for as rough as he seemed a moment ago, admitting allowed he's still pretty new to the City.
As that is going on, another vampire comes in, and comes up to me, most likely realizing I am the hostess after all, and mentions his attire.
Standing next to Carmine, he looks very well kept, and I simply wave my hand,

Dere is non dress code Mon Ami, but de effort is indeed appreciated.

I would go on and give proper introductions, but a slight sound rings through hidden speakers, those of us on the production side knowing just what it means, and I jump to action.

De show is about ta begin.
We must get to de seats!

I usher most on, letting Damien and Whitney tend to themselves as I do.

Come, let us enjoy de festivities, It begins!


((OOC: I'm moving us all to the seats, if any other characters wish to join this, they can, just jump in at any time guys.))

[Carmine]

Time for the show to start. I don’t know what’s happening really. I know Kami’s on later, but aside from that this is like a potluck of local talent. I wonder how long these things last. Once I fell asleep during a Toreador poetry recital, and when I woke up, it was the chick reading the same poem. And then she kept going for another hour. I would have frenzied if I didn’t have a user next to me to help keep me occupied and quiet. Never again.

After finishing my quick conversation with Whitney or whatever Redhead Number Three is called, I start heading in the general direction of traffic. I’m not necessarily looking to give the stage my full attention, but I hate being stuck in the back unless I have something or someone occupying me. I get a nice second row seat, feeling sorry if whoever sits behind me is short. Not my fault I’m tall. Can’t fucking stand when people tap me on the shoulder and ask me to slouch. Bastards.

I have to admit, the place is pretty fancy. It reminds me of…things I don’t want to be reminded of, but I’d have to be an idiot to not see how clean and tidy and put-together the place is. Some guy told me that humans think in patterns, and I guess having a place organized with patterns makes it a better plac to think and be inspired and shit like that. Of course, the guy was living in a box. A checker-patterned box, but a box nonetheless.

After a few minutes I notice my leg bouncing up and down. I know what I’m doing after the show, no lie. I crack my neck to the side and glance around the gathering crowd. Some give me off looks, probably because of my outfit. Fuck em. They wanna go out and get me the latest, snazziest style then that’s up to them. Fuckers. I pull my knees back for others to get through the seats, offering a falsely-polite nod to let them pass. When does this thing start?

[Damien]

I can't help but be amused with Lysette's response to my statement. Toreador often garner reputaitons as being shallow, dull minded creatures. Too caught up in the pretty sights of life to have any focus beyond that...Not unlike how we Ventrue tend to be viewed as fops by the little people...but this one is different. Theres something cool, and very much in control about her manner. The words she speaks echoing with a power that brings a smile to my lips, even as I gather information from what she tells.

Certainly its not unusual for the clan of the Rose to draw pleasure in their little trysts with mortals, and the idea that this is a punishment for her ghoul just makes it all that much more delicious. It tempts me with the power to give out this information, and profit with prestige by the telling. A temptation I'll fill soon enough. Lysette understands of course, its not as if she'd tell me anything in this setting that she Didn't want the entire city to know. This is what the keepr's function is in some respects. The careful evaluation and dispensation of information to the right ears...and I do know all the right ears.

Of course, even as I engage with my cohost of the evening, some part of me is entirely drawn to my lover, as Whitney joins the party in the style that only she Can. Setting the entire party ablaze with her unique light as she moves through the crowds, giving I and Lysette the briefest of moments before she turns her attentions to some punkish young man, who I would assume is our new Ventrue. A drug user or some such...details are sketchy at this point. Ruggedly handsome in the usual Brujah way...but lacking some of the style that the old clan held. I do hate to see the change. Brujah have been the bane of Ventrue for ages...but at least they used to have class. Nobility. Now it seems more a case of rabble, disorganized vampires living for the frenzy...or so it often seems.

No generalization is ever the same as fact. Even in their more rogueish state some Brujah have demonstrated the same commitment to ideal that was once so prized and beloved, our Sheriff among them. It remains to be seen if this one has that spark...though I must say the odds seem poor.

There is also another vampire here...though of him I know even less. Scattered details of his entry into the city, some matter of a stolen ring or another...and a connection with Aidoneus. Most curious. I shall have to form some better intelligence on him later...though the time is not right for such questions at the moment. I suspect a more intimate setting would be more productive in his case...

In any case, its time for the entertainment, and if I'm going to enjoy one of Dita's debauched performances...well I would just as soon have my Lady beside me for it. I move surely beside her, taking her arm in mine, and feeling the perfect touch of her cool flesh of my own, unable to resist leaning over to inhale deeply from her neck, smiling softly as I speak.

"Time for the show my dear."

With that I lead her into Dita's hall, moving surely past the other seats to our own specific box, raised by the stage, ideal to watch the show without sacrificing our privacy, and the soft intimacies that our nights often bring.

Once we are alone, I drop attempts at casual contact, placing my hand on her handrest as I lean over her in the chair, taking her chin in my hand as I kiss her deeply, longingly.. Is it possible that its only been a few hours since we were last together? Difficult to believe....

I part from her with a smile, and then take my seat beside her, even as my hand reaches across, softly massaging her thigh. feeling the cool skin beneath her cumbersome warddrobe...slightly annoyed that I can't feel her flesh directly. Not yet anyway....

[Fate]

Fate had made his entrance and he wasn't going to stay that long within the presence of others. A man of mystery, kindred or not could always get more attention by minding their own business. He made himself known to the Hostess as well as her guests, but didn't stay as he found himself his own seat down the way. Fate noted the interests of those about, of his appearance, they didn't know whom he was or what he was.

Just that he was a new member within the Camarilla, he would use this to his advantage, all the while casting an award winning smile as he looked around the room. By the dress of each person, he could make the assumptions of where each hailed from. Blood or otherwise, but that wasn't really going to confirm any of his thoughts. Making a full use of his personal force of will to avoid glancing at peoples hands, averting his gaze so that his eyes caught faces and outfits so that he would not be tempted by jewelry.

First impressions were fine, but the show came first and he wished to scout out his prospective friends and foes in a calm environment. So with a delicate few shifts as he crossed his legs and dropped into a somewhat practiced pose. Wondering what the cities kindred had to offer him and if he would find it to his liking, though he could consider himself of a higher class than some. He easily fit in with those at the bottom rungs, humanity asked fewer questions on that end of the spectrum.

[Wade]

Hey, what a party huh? Yeah, I don't generally go in for the Hoity toity Vent/Tore bashes, but Deets left me a message on the phone tellin me she'd be puttin on a show...and well, theres no way in hell I'm missin that. Specially not when she asked me to come. Which of course means I had to get together the right duds for an event. Cause, as much as I love my usual duds, they don't really work all that great at parties. Bein the only guy in the room with a shotgun in your pants might Feel really damn good, but it does make the fops a bit anxious.

Which is why I went to all the trouble o' going to pick up a tux. Don't know why people seem to think gettin a good suit is such a hard thing ta do. Just had to stake out a downtown bar fer about an hour an I had the perfect one lined up. An judgin how the wearer was staggerin...not all that hard to get neither. 30 minutes an a ballbat later I'm Tossin Mr Success into a dumpster, sans blood an most of his face.

Mmmm...martini flavor. Makes me feel more cultured allready.

Then I just stow my usual duds in the car, and switch over to the dead guy's tux. I was mostly careful not to damage him, so aside from some bloodstains in the shirt, its all spick an span. Shoes are a bit small, so I stick with the shitkickers. Pull on some leather gloves an a balaclava to make me look a little less Krueger esque. Not that I give a damn what the party goers think. No, this is just about makin sure that I don't go distractin peeps from Deet's show. She'd kill me if I did that...an maybe not in a figurative sense.

I make my way straight up the front, givin the doorman a bit of a start as I pull down the mask, givin him a grin an a line bout not having a reservation. He waves me in, an I make a beeline for the bar, grabbing another blood tini, with some olives in the glass...not that I can eat the olives, but it still looks damn cool. Very bond.

Where is that Russian bastard anyway? You'd think he'd be romancin the Ventrue babes all over the place...ahh well.

I make my way past the crowds, an down front to a special seat just for me...well after I pull the dumb ass out of it who was stupid enough to go an remove the reserved sign that Dita put there for me. I let him off cause I'm feelin nice. Bein Scourge I shouldn't really even have to say anythign...not that it stops me from sayin somethin anyway...didn't know Vamps could Get paler....

[Dita]

((OOC- all song lyrics in Italics))

It's no secret that I do my show every weekend at Dollz. I'm their top-liner.
But tonight's show is special.
Tonight's show is in Elysium, with my own kind watching on.
There's probably a mixed crowd at Dollz... but it's not the 'vampire' function tonight's show is going to be.
I've got the perfect song picked, and Roxie has even loaned me her beautiful Ghouls, Trent and Gavin, to play as my 'assistants.
I pass over them carefully, taking in their hulking, muscular forms, all dressed in black.
They should blend in nicely.
Assistants, merely help me on stage, to make my grand entrance, and gather up the clothing as it falls.
The show's about to start, I get the cue, and rush into my own dressing room, to finish the final touches before the curtain raises.
Dressed in a severely modified straight jacket, I call a sweet girl in to finish 'lacing me up'.
It was once a real straight jacket. I outta know. I wore it on one of my jaunts 'inside'.
But the main panels have been cut out, and replaced with a black sheer lace, so you get some 'peak a boo' shots of white flesh.
Attached with some other additions, the bondage straps reach all the way down as garters to my thigh high fish nets.
With a pair of knee high shiny stiletto heeled dominatrix boots, I'm all ready to go.
I step out of my dressing room, to Trent and Gavin already waiting as if 'posted' outside the door.

Mmm. Is this how the Prince feels when she leaves her rooms?
Lucky girl!

I reach both arms out, drawing them to me, as we make our way to the stage.
Right on time, I hear the curtain call, and Lysette takes the Microphone and introduces me, and once she leaves the stage, the show begins.

The song is very mood setting, heavy beats, in sensual time, and I let the boys lead me out as I sway my hips to the beat, The words starting, their cue to let go of me, and fade into the shadows.
Walking as if on a high wire, I take my steps carefully, sensually, most eyes probably on my legs, as I'm strapped with my arms around me in the straight jacket, and at the moment all the 'goodies' are covered.

Periodic tableware
Psychotropic science fare

At this point I tear one arm across, pulling the straps so they audibly rip, the sound hitting in time with the beat,
With one arm down, it's free to move, the extra bondage material whipping around in time to the beat, half of my chest almost exposed through the lace of the straight jacket, enough to notice the equally lacy bra underneath.

But who will - save the sane
Some beings - just cant change
Now - crawl on by - a fake - tear in your eye
And think - isn't she strange

I give pouty lips at the lyrics, moving my body in ways that draw the attention to my hips and legs.

Pseudogasmic chemistry
Necromorphic apathy

At this part, I start to tear the other arm free, again, as if a mirror of my moves before, tearing the bondage straps with an audible sound in time to the music, an even better view of my chest and torso exposed, yet still very much covered.
With both arms free, I make even more motions with my hands, now directing attention further up with my moves, enticing with things they have yet to see.

But who will - save the sane
Some beings - just cant change
Now - crawl on by - a fake - tear in your eye
And think - isn't she strange

Trent, from the darkness, almost unseen, tosses a chair toward me, and I take it, setting it down to the beat.
At first I use it as a prop, to just move my hands over the dark, carved wood in sensual ways, and then bending over it a bit, my back to the audience, before twisting my body in a way that shows off every perfect curve as I flow into the chair.
Swaying to the music, I slowly unhook a couple extra straps, that release first one arm, tossing the piece aside after pealing it off with my teeth, before moving to the other, again peeling it down my arm with my mouth before tossing it behind me, my arms now exposed as I continue to move over the chair.

Physical laws unapplied - hamper my - quest
Unsurreal world of unfailed - hiv - tests
Der ubermensch warning of pi techno junkies - 3.141592653
Come on boy - tell me - tell me

I lean back on the chair, moving my legs to get attention back down, and I slowly unhook the straps that are 'gartered' to my fish nets, once all 6 straps are undone, slowly I unsip the Boots and kick them off, slowly rolling the stockings down until with just a flick of my ankle, even they come off.

Tentative ambulance date - bound for g - ward
Beartrap psychiatrist bait - chew my paw - off
Unmercilessly we will take you away to slumber
But only if you can recite avogadros number
Come on boy - tell me - tell me

I pull up, off the chair, rolling my body back to the music as I flip the chair around in front of me, now facing the crowd, I slowly reach up, and unhook each strap that keeps the jack itself in place, and pull it off, stopping to tease with it, holding it in front of me as I move it back and forth, a peek here, and a peek there, before tossing it to the side, sure that one of the Ghouls will clear it away, almost unseen.
Now in just a skimpy black lace bra, black lace G-string, I dance around even more lewdly to the beat.

But who will - save the sane
Some beings - just cant change
Now - crawl on by - a fake - tear in your eye
And think - isn't she strange

Coming up toward the end, with allot of musical connotations, I move even quicker now, spinning around in time to the music as I slowly drop the straps of the bra, dancing around a bit before unhooking it, holding it to my chest in fake demurely, before dropping it entirely, my hands now covering my breasts as I tease a bit dancing around without showing that last final tease, to the last line,

Now - crawl on by - a fake tear in your eye
And think - wasn't he strange

At that, I drop my hands, and shake everything for them to see, pursing my lips a moment before I wink, and blow a kiss, bending at the waist in a wave, down to nothing but a sheer black G-string, as I give them all a good shot from behind as I saunter off the stage, as the music echoes out.
Mmm... how I love the stage!

OOC: Song is 'who will save the sane?' by Type O Negative.