<br/><div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DpdYCtn.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:  Mr. Jeffrey</strong><br/><br/><strong>STAFF</strong><br/><br/><strong>Situation:</strong>Opening the One-Night Bride for the evening's business<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open<br/><br/><strong>Content Warning:</strong><em>None</em><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/>It was dusk, and the heat of the day was rapidly subsiding into the coolness that would become the evening's chill.  Inside the Great Room of the One-Night Bride, the temperature was always comfortable, regardless of the temperatures preferred, and Mr. Jeffrey, for one, was thankful for it.  The proper attire that Madame Celeste required from her staff, while quite to his taste, was rather uncomfortable in the Bazaar's daytime heat.<br/><br/>Mr. Jeffrey made his final rounds, checking that all was in readiness -- the waiters and waitresses were in their formal dress, crisp tight pants, white crisp shirts that were tailored to suit their forms, whether it was best to reveal or conceal, bow ties, jet black jackets, little serving towels upon the waiters arms, mithril gilded trays for serving ... the waitresses in their short, black skirts with frills, net stockings, frilly aprons that were designed to make the best of their assets ... all as Madame liked it.<br/><br/>Very good.  It never boded well when Madame felt the staff were not paying proper attention to the niceties, and she or Ms. Makropoulos would find ways to make his life most unpleasant if he let them slip by his watchful eye.<br/><br/>Mr. Jeffery snorted.  As if that would happen.  There would be a howling blizzard upon the city and snow piled above the doorways before he let that happen.<br/><br/>With a crisp little nod of his head, he signaled that all was in readiness to receive their guests.  Soon the courtesans, the brides and grooms as Madame Celeste insisted upon calling them, would be making their way through the Bride, offering up their delights to those who had come to sample them.<br/><br/>The soft notes of music sounded in the air, though there were no musicians visible, no instruments.  The song was called, he believed, Nocturne, and it was one of Madame's favorite opening arrangements, inviting without overwhelming conversation.  Later in the evening, once things were in full swing, live music would be performed, along with livelier tunes through the Bride's innate magic.<br/><br/>Things were much better since the magical suppressants were installed, allowing only certain magics pursuant to the Bride's business be cast, courtesy of small stamps upon the backs of guests hands that would last until the dawn, or until they left the Bride's environs.  Then, they would disappear without a trace -- another of the club's enhancements that Mr. Jeffrey thoroughly lauded.<br/><br/><em>"Open the doors,"</em>he instructed one of the security staff, and it was done.  Mr. Jeffrey stepped forward with a small, professional smile, his white-gloved hands clasped demurely over his baton.<br/><em><br/>"Welcome to the One-Night Bride," </em>he said to those early arrivals who had been waiting upon the doorstep.<em> "We offer the best kind of wedded bliss here - that which does not grow demanding and strident over morning tea, but rather delights from sundown until sunup.  Come in, come in, and see if I do not speak the absolute truth!"</em><br/><br/>He said one of the same seven things, in no particular order, each night when the doors were opened, depending on which took his fancy, though occasionally he had been guilty of accepting a bribe in exchange for helping a frequent customer win a bet from some gullible newcomer.  Yet whichever he said, it was always delivered with panache, and his habitual mostly sincere smile.