Kamal barely spared a wave to Randy as he made his way through the back room of the laundromat, and shoved the bookshelf out of the way. He was in a hurry, so he left it where it was. He knew Randy would back to check on it in a moment, and although he wasn't the strongest, Randy could handle himself. Kamal made his way down the stairs quickly, shedding his suit coat as he went. He checked his watch and swore, before breaking out into a run. He quickly passed through the speakeasy itself and back stage. He bundled up his suit coat and threw it into a corner before opening the door to a dressing room.
"Sorry I'm late Questionette! Lost track of time!" He felt bad that he didn't have an excuse past that, especially since there was only about fifteen minutes until they went on.
Questionette was halfway wondering if Kamal was shot on the way to work when she heard his voice and whipped around from where she was sitting, her makeup nearly done. “Nom de Dieu, I was starting to think you might never arrive!” She couldn’t keep it in her to truly be angry at her friend, but she could give him a hard time. “You’ll be ready in quinze, yes?” She turned back to her mirror, putting the finishing touches on her eyes. “What was it that you ‘lost track of time’ with, mm?”
"Sure thing kitten, I only need a few minutes." He winked at her playfully, using the nickname he'd given her, despite it usually having a romantic meaning. He grabbed the nicer suit he used for performances and ducked behind the screen to change. "I uh...I just got caught up in some home stuff, nothing serious." He was not about to let her know that he had tried to take a power nap and overslept. She would never let him hear the end of it. "Tap shoes tonight? Or are we doing a normal show?"
Questionette had to giggle at the nickname, losing all pretense of frustration and putting the finishing touches on her face. “Not tonight, I do not believe... And I know better than to ask you about what ‘home stuff’, ah... cela implique, involves.” If that wasn’t the right word, it was at least close enough, she decided. “Just don’t let it happen again tomorrow, chouchou, or I tell the boss.” She smiled as she said it, knowing it was a wholly empty threat, and rose from her seat, glancing at a costume rack a few feet away. “We have everything here, yes?”
"You make it sound like my 'home stuff' is some horrible monstrosity...what's the worst thing I could be doing?" he asked, fixing the suspenders he had pulled on. He pulled his street shoes back on, hopping slightly when the second one provided resistance. "Everything should be here, yeah. Why, did you have something in mind?" He looked himself over in a mirror. Maybe he should try to match her more? Their shows were usually casual, it wouldn't matter too much. "You think we have time to do some make up on me?"
“Mmh, don’t worry about that, you know I just like to tease you.” She turned to look at him and beamed at the question. “I believe we have some time... Ten minutes, that’s enough, oui?” She began stretching, twisting one arm behind her back and hearing a satisfying pop in her shoulder at the strain. “Would you like my help with that, or do you want to do it on your own this time?”
"I think that's enough, yeah..." He muttered to himself. He turned to look at her, and returned her smile. "Help might be a good idea, if we're in a rush. What're you wearing tonight? We should try to match at least a little." Seeing her stretch made him think about loosening up his own body. He had just been napping on his couch for a couple hours. He reached down to touch his toes, and noticed the suspenders he was wearing where a bit tight. He'd have to adjust that...
“Nothing extravagante. Red for tonight, I thought, it feels like that sort of a night. You already look charmant, let me just...” She twisted her spine once more and headed over to Kamal, briefly taking his face in her hands to consider before looking in her makeup bag. “We have time for eyes and lips, at least. Stay still, close your eyes.”
"Red? You're encroaching on Tiff's color, she's be less than pleased," he said, chuckling slightly. He closed his eyes and tried to stay still. "And thank you very much, you're rather jolie yourself." He hummed for a moment, before a little anxiety wormed it's way into his mind. It was dumb to think she'd judge him but... "I used that correctly, right? I always get feminine and masculine mixed up, sorry."
“You’re correct! Don’t worry, you are not as bad as you think you might be.” She started on his left eye and stabilized herself with a hand on his shoulder. “English verb tenses are difficult for me still now, so at least we are learning together. And if Tiff wants to be less than pleased, then that is not our problem.” She allowed a little chuckle and started on his right side, quieting with focus. “Purple next time, then.”
“You know she won’t actually be mad, she’s much too nice,” he said, trying hard to hold still. “You can always ask me kitten. Or Borbra. Whoever’s nearby.” He mentally went over all the options they had here. The costumes they had for guys were few, especially compared to the ladies. Which made sense, but didn’t give him much room. “Is the sequined suit coat too much? Or are we feeling flashy tonight?”
“Of course. I do adore Tiff, we should perform with her sometime.” She was glad his eyes were closed so he couldn’t see her face flush a little at the mention of Borbra. “Oh, it’s never too much! I loved—love that one. Present tense,” she reminded herself aloud. “You can open your eyes now. Beautiful.”
Kamal opened his eyes and grinned at Questionette. "Getting the whole performing gang together? Us, Tiff, and Lulia? That'd be amazing. We could invite Jerafina too, if she isn't too drunk." He chuckled. "And I'm not the beautiful one here." He bumped his hip against her's playfully, before walking over to the costume rack and pulling out the suit coat he wanted.
Questionette poked her tongue out at Kamal at the compliment, then turned back to the mirror for one last check-over of herself. Costume was right, face was okay, hair was right, hat was... “Have you seen my hat?” she asked, turning to look at Kamal. She could go on without it, but she didn’t like to; it had become a signature piece and she hated the idea of having lost it. “I think I left it here last night, I thought I did.”
“Non, non, it is not important,” she said, but her rifling through her bag said otherwise. “If we do not find it in one minute, I can go on without. It is not a problem, really.” She pushed a stray lock of hair from her face, gently so as not to mess up the hard work she had done on her hair. “Perhaps I leave, I left it at Borbra’s...?” she murmured, more to herself than to Kamal.
Kamal grinned at the small comment about being at her being at Borbra's house, but he wiped it away quickly. He didn't want her to think that he was glad she couldn't find it. "Makes sense...we'll find it, one way or another. I'm sure the world wouldn't end if we went on a little late." He began rifling through the costumes, careful not to mess them up but still searching with purpose. "Do you remember the last time you had it on?"
"Mmm... Yesterday night, at Borbra's." She would have to go back and get it tonight... The thought was partially exciting and partially nerve-wracking, but she didn't want to show it, so she just looked up at Kamal with forcibly bright eyes. "Then that means tonight is just a special and different night! We should get back to the wings, I think we must be on soon..." She offered a little smile to him. "Tu es ravissante, mon ami."
"If you're sure...I hope you can get it sometime tonight or tomorrow. I'm sure she'd love to have you over." He winked at her. He held his arm out for her to take for them to go to the wings. "Comme tu es, chaton." He grinned at her, confident for once that he'd used his French right.
Questionette had to chuckle softly at Kamal’s nickname for her and she took his arm, nudging him a little with her hip as she did so. “Silly,” she said, following him out. “Chatonne is the feminine, by the way.”