#triptheimp

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@elxgantcaptain

"A drink please and..." He's squinting now.

"Of course, whats your poison oh seafarer?" Trip asked, that smile staying charming and welcoming.

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//Helloooo dere

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//Thats a lot of glitter

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“That’s it… just relax. I’ve got you.” - to Trip From Belloux

Hypnosis Sentence Starters

The Silver Fox was bustling tonight, so many patrons all happy to spend a night at a drag bar. So many dancing people, so many tables to serve, and Trip ended up at this one.

He wasn't sure what happened, one minute he's setting down their drink and the next his vision was going wonky and his head felt it weighed so much more than it should, then it felt light as a feather.

He was trying to push through it, stumbling a little in his heels, "H-Huh?"

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His body hurt, but he'd patched himself up when he got back to his colleagues place. Trip's father had put him in an impossible position when he forged his name at the casino as a guarantor. And if the casino found out about Gritt and Patch? Well, they'd be dragged into this mess.

Trip needed more than just the bar work if he was going to make the kind of payments they were hounding him for, otherwise they were just going to drag both him and Jet in and end them there and then. Trip hung his head, leaning on the fire escape as he looked again at the note in his hand.

The king had left it, when he'd visited the circus. Trip didn't like the idea of working for royalty as a jester but... maybe it could only be until he paid the debt. He had to compete with other clowns to get the job first.

But first... he had to make sure the boys would be okay. So he'd sent off an email with his medical files to Opal, with a brief explination of his situation. And then he removed the card from his phone, switching it with another.

It was better this way, a different phone number, and Opal had everything the twins would need. They could cut off contact, part ways, or pretend they didn't know each other, and they wouldn't have to deal with the mess his dad left him in. Taking a deep breath, he straightened despite the ache in his body, and headed out.

He could at least see if he was eligible for that jester job.

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@queen-of-prophecy

"Care for a luncheon at the tower? I'm afraid I'm having just 'girl dinner' of wine and charcuterie."

Trip jumped, juggling his cigarette before he managed to catch it. He looked back at Vine, very aware of the fact he was just in his sweatpants. "I uh... sure. Let me get a shirt- wait how'd you figure out where I'm staying?" The apartment was small, damp and worn, belonging to one of his work colleagues who had allowed him to crash on their couch. Without his flattering dress or loose shirts, Trip was worryingly thin.

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"Greetings...Trip, is it? How are you this hellish evening?"

Trip is leaning back a bit... they're a bit close. ".... who's askin'?"

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//Trip if he grew his hair out a bit