Genevieve Bijou

[emeryragazzo]

Beginnings | Gen & Emery

[emeryragazzo]

The sheer confidence in the woman’s voice was enough to have Emery jerking back in surprise – this Genevieve was straight to the point and harbored no shame in it. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips because even in her sleep deprived and stress riddled mind, she could appreciate that. Although, the fact that she happened to speak with that much confidence concerning who she was, did throw up warning flags in the back of her mind. If this woman happened to be from the LES, where drug lords and blood thirsty killers were tracking her like prairie dogs, she’d made a mistake thinking this conversation was a remotely good idea.

Humming into her coffee, Emery nodded her head and waiting for the discussion to continue. For whatever fate had up its twisted sleeve to present itself. At Genevieve’s words, she furrowed her brows before placing the drink onto the table once more.

“My apologies, if this comes off rude,” she started, arms crossing loosely over her chest, “But I have no idea, who the fuck you are and if I were involved in anything illegal, do you think I’d be so stupid as to admit that to a complete and total stranger?” Emery’s tone wasn’t coarse; she spoke the words casually as possible not wanting to cause a scene in the middle of her second abode.  It wasn’t that she did have any immoral habits (her brother took that cake and ate it like a starving man), she just didn’t appreciate the sudden feel of being in an interrogation room. 

[genbijou]

Genevieve waved her hand dismissively, shaking her head while she spoke, "Not rude in the least; I would've said the same thing." The girls tone was solid, not shaky or wavering. The words had intent and strength behind them, not rehearsed and certainly not a lie. When people lied, it usually took them more time to get through it, time Gen used to simply stare back at them with a blank face, waiting for them to finish so that she could tell them they had just wasted their own time as well as hers. The girl wasn't a drug addict. Of that much Gen was sure. She didn't need any other confirmation. 

"Anyway, as I was about to say," She leaned closer over the desktop, not wanting their conversation to be overheard. "We have a mutual friend, perhaps acquaintance for you? Victoria- I believe she's your counselor? She has informed me of your situation." 

Clasping her hand around her coffee she took a quick sip, not leaving enough room for Emery to interject, "No details, of course- I have no idea what the circumstances are and I don't need to. All I needed to know was that you are clean." She paused again, giving the girl another once-over, noting probable confusion. Genevieve hated wasting time- she needed to get right to the point.

"Okay, I have a job opportunity for you. It pays more than any other job you would be able to get in the city, and you can choose your own hours." Bringing the cup to her lips once more, she took a longer sip, wondering what the girl could be imagining the job to be. It seemed fairly obvious in her mind, though the typical "prostitute" was such a crude term; one Genevieve detested. She didn't manage prostitutes. No way in hell Bijou Noir is nor, or ever has been affiliated with prostitution. 

"I run a unique type of night club.." 

[lisem0rken]

[emeryragazzo]

Beginnings | Gen & Emery

[emeryragazzo]

Peeking through her fingers, a perfectly arched brow lifting in question at the woman’s words, Emery hesitated responding. She wasn’t sure who this woman was or where she had come from, for that matter but she looked professional enough not to be some inane fool intent on interrupting her. Still, she bristled from distrust as she lowered her hands, resting them on the surface of her book. 

With a tilt of her head, the move causing hair to fall from her messy bun, she eyed the woman and the coffee she was offering, the steam that rose out in animated swirls calling out to her. Emery pushed her book to the side, marking her page and closing it before bringing the hot drink to her mouth for a sip. “Thanks,” she muttered, chocolate gaze still on the blonde. “I’m Emery,” 

“A proposition?” she repeated, placing the drink onto the table again. It was like something out of a movie, to be approached by a stranger like this in the middle of what have been a particularly boring day. “As long as it doesn’t include me smuggling drugs up from Cuba through a place where the sun don’t shine then ok -“ she took another sip from the coffee, “I’m listening,”  

[genbijou]

"Don't be silly, I know who you are." Genevieve had never been one for subtlety, always doing things without necessarily thinking them through, not that she really cared. She spoke matter-of-factly, and didn't like to beat around the bush; it just wasn't the type of woman she was. So when it came to something like this, meeting a person she had heard about and having them know nothing about her, it wasn't uncommon for her to just jump in with both feet.

"No- no drugs.." She eyed the girl suspiciously, realizing Victoria, Emery's counselor hadn't mentioned anything of that nature. She suddenly wondered if she shouldn't have just taken Vic's word for it when she said Emery was a smart girl. "She's a smart girl-- she's just in a bind."

Genevieve set her coffee down and leaned back in the chair slightly, bringing her hand to her mouth, her fingers forming a fist aside from her thumb that rested against her bottom lip. It was Gen's signature thinking pose- one that she was never consciously aware of doing herself.

"Although, now that you mention it and before we go forward with this discussion, I need to know of any habitual illegal activity you engage in." She knew it was a strange request, especially coming from a stranger, but Genevieve also knew how to read people. Studying them is what she did, it's how she got to where she was today. 

[emeryragazzo]

Beginnings | Gen & Emery

Emery is tired. 

The exhaustion and overwhelming amount of despair the media preaches will claim you during college is no myth. It is very fucking real and Emery is suffering in it’s clutches. She is the baggy-eyed, bitter student who is running on five hours of sleep over the course of the last five days. She is the starving pupil who finds her fill only from kimchi bowls and studying the word of Galilei and Huygens and Newton. 

She arrived to the library six hours ago and has only taken a break when words started to close in together, forming gibberish she couldn’t make sense of. She’s dressed in a pair of shorts that have seen too many washes and a sweater that’s too big and threatens to swallow her whole. Taking residence in a far corner, she’s sighing and flipping through pages trying to read and simultaneously take notes of things that may potentially find its way on a pop quiz or final or something else that could potentially damage everything she’s worked so hard for. 

Wondering to herself if this was worth it, if leaving her brother and so-called friends and everything else behind for long hours studying logic, mathematics, science and theory. For the eight by ten room she shares with a girl she hardly knows and for the two jobs that only bring in enough for her to eat noodles and pay her phone bill - was it all worth it? Trading in the life of a spoiled little girl with no drive for the one of a hardened student who got off on using formula. 

Yeah, it was.

It made her happy and Emery could count on one hand the things that made her happy. A sense of dread was creeping up on her, a conversation with a counselor pounding at the back of her brain. “It doesn’t look like you’ll be able to pay for next semester’s courses. Do you have any plans? Any other source of income? Friends? Family?”  A dry chuckle left her, sounding loud in the quiet corner of the library; making friends was a weird concept that she’d never been able to wrap her head around and family, well, that story was tired. She was close to tears from the frustration, the thought of not being able to come back and finish what she’d started all because of some fucking paper. 

The hairs on the back of her neck lifted when she felt the presence of another and she rolled her eyes, burying her face into her palms. ‘Please, please, go away,’  she chanted in her mind, it wouldn’t do for her to be sleep deprived, hungry, emotional while trying to be polite enough for social encounters. 

[genbijou]

It took longer than expected to find the girl she'd only before seen pictures of, in the vast library of the school. A coffee in each hand, she wandered through bookshelf after bookshelf only to find herself a little lost. Finally, after the final bookshelf in the entire library, she found the young brunette sitting by herself in a corner, pouring over- well, attempting to pour over book after book; a litter of books all open and spread out in front of her. 

With quick strides, she made her way to the corner, placing the coffees down on the table in front of Emery before she walked to the nearest table and dragged a chair over. Spinning it backwards, Gen sat with her legs going through the back of the chair, leaning her torso on the upright position of the chair's backing. 

She cleared her throat softly, waiting for the girl to look up, and picked up one of the coffees, taking a sip. "You look like you could use a pick-me-up right about now." Smiling warmly, Genevieve pushed the cup towards the young girl, waiting to gauge her reaction. 

She'd been told by her friend Victoria of a girl of such great woe. The girl had all the cards stacked against her and needed to catch a break, somehow, someway. She needed money and she needed it fast and if anyone knew how to make that happen it was Genevieve Bijou. 

"My name is Genevieve Bijou," Her stare was professional- not particularly cold or warm- not wanting to mix business with a potential friendship. She was here to offer a job, and if friendship came from it, so be it. For now, however, she just wanted to help the poor girl out.

"And I have a proposition for you."

[the-munsters-deactivated2021110]

[genbijou]

A quick knock and Roen entered the office of Genevieve Bijou, key in hand and smile on his face. "Ms. Bijou, I believe I found myself to be currently in possession of the key to your little Princess. I'd like to keep her for the next few hours, if I may, as a bit of a fetish project, but if you could do me a pretty favor and keep it our secret until I tell her, I would be much obliged."

Genevieve nodded, a proud smile on her lips as she took his payment and added Princess' name to the list of 'occupied' employees. "Certainly, Mr. Beckett." She winked as he turned to leave, "Have fun!"

[genbijou]

Tyler sidled up to Gen, a big ol’ shit-eating grin on his face.  Smugly, he informed her, waving a lovely little key round on its chain, winding it around an index finger destined soon to be knuckle-deep in one of her girls, “I’m buying Princess for the night.  And you may need to give her a few hours off tomorrow to recuperate.  We’ll chalk it up to fetish services, but I have so much more planned for her than mere whips and chains.  You’re welcome to join us, if you like.”

She wrote down the information, however begrudgingly, smirking to herself at his final comment, "Hawthorne, keep dreaming- you couldn't afford me. But have fun. It'll be added to your tab."

[alexgreyson-westfield-blog]

Oh stop, you will make me blush. I’m just a sweet innocent thing, I wouldn’t even know how to begin finding such a…naughty thing.

[genbijou]

Sweet, perhaps. Innocent? Who are you trying to fool? You are easily the queen of finding "naughty things". Speaking of, I need a recommendation for a new vibe. Any suggestions?

[mr-tyler-hawthorne-deactivated2]

I’m not so sure about that, either.  You might be sporting steel under that dress for all I know.  But then I think you’re just trying to make me curious.  You always were an awful tease, Gen.  One of these days, you’re going to slip up.  And when you do, I’ll be there for you to fall down on.  Again and again and again.  Clothing optional.

[genbijou]

After all these years, I have yet to slip up, as you say. What makes you think it'll ever happen? One can dream, I suppose.

[alexgreyson-westfield-blog]

C’est La Vie, I suppose. I shall have to find my lashing somewhere else then.

[genbijou]

A feat, I know, that is not too difficult for a beauty like yourself.

[bellassists-deactivated20140504]

Ugh, I know that, sadly. Why are you always so hard to convince? Must be important, I’m guessing.

[genbijou]

Not particularly important. Just feel like playing the role of the boss tonight, that's all. Someone's gotta keep these clients honest! 

[mr-tyler-hawthorne-deactivated2]

Are you?  I don’t think you’ve had a good look at it in years.  Sure you don’t want a refresher course to see how it’s grown?  Milk.  It does a body good.

[genbijou]

Grown? Don't make me laugh. But don't worry, yours will always be bigger than mine, babe.

[julianafinch-blog-blog]

I.. no, of course not! I’m sorry I took so long in the bathroom, it was just.. first day jitters, I guess. A bit of a headache, my stomach is kind of flipping around, but I’ll be fine, I promise.

[genbijou]

Jules, just remember what we talked about. If you feel uncomfortable at all, just say the word. You don't need to be a hero, especially on your first night. Plenty of our guests enjoy simple company with a pretty face- no physical interaction at all. Perhaps you'd be better suited to take it easy on your first night?

[alexgreyson-westfield-blog]

Now, Genny. You know me, I always know exactly what I wish for. I’ll just have to keep an eye out for any such antics. I’m not going to turn down any lashings, but you wound me. You don’t wish to turn my skin pink yourself?

[genbijou]

Sorry to disappoint, darling. The only pink skin I enjoy is my own.

[alexgreyson-westfield-blog]

Hey now, you know most, if not all,  of my kinks, Madame Bijou. But if you would like an extensive list, I would be more than happy to oblige. Perhaps a little hands on activity as well? I tease, I tease. How boring. Nothing ever changes? And if I really was sick? Would you give me a good lashing? Cause then…I might just be developing a cough.

[genbijou]

Be careful what you wish for, babe.. Who knows what antics will develop this evening. You know as well as anyone that each night brings something new. Maybe I'll just have to save those lashings and give them as a gift to your next client.

[genbijou]

Headcanon 1.

Genevieve has all the class of the Upper East side with all the foul language of a sailor. Her favorite word, if you haven't noticed, is "fuck" and any and all variations of it.

[mr-tyler-hawthorne-deactivated2]

If you’re looking for a good porking, Gen, all you have to do is say so.

[genbijou]

You know I'm fully aware of what you're working with, Hawthorne. I'd rather milk a fucking cow.