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It's not where Beaux would have preferred to spend their night, but a job is a job. Tonight's job involved tailing a..... businessman for the sake of protection, but from a distance so that he didn't seem like he was being followed. For whatever reason, the business he was there to conduct was such that he preferred not to have obvious bodyguards right beside him, but he wanted Beaux to be capable of jumping in at a moment's notice should trouble arise. What this business entailed exactly, Beaux wasn't sure, and had no intention of asking. If anything, it was perhaps better not to know. It was probably something like drugs or trafficking, something that meant getting involved with precarious crowds that could warrant such paranoia. And if that was the case, plausible deniability was infinitely preferable. The exact nature of it wasn't Beaux's concern really, anyway. Honestly, they'd been a little sceptical that they'd be able to fulfil this particular request, since faceless mechanical bodies weren't exactly built for stealth or subtlety. But it was also true that a lot could fly under the radar in a busy club where everyone is preoccupied by flashing lights and heavy, bass-boosted music that it's impossible to hear their own thoughts over, let alone anyone around them. And, well, a job is a job, and pay is pay, and the pay Beaux was being offered for this particular job just about made it worth it.
Which led them to their current situation, sequestered into the corner of a club where the aforementioned lights and music were rather unpleasant on their senses. The effort of keeping out of the way while also keeping their client in view was sufficient distraction for the moment, but Beaux would have been lying if their said they weren't hoping this business would be over as soon as possible. Other distractions came in the form of the surrounding half-shouted conversations they were able to passively listen in on, out of pure curiosity more than anything else. Focusing on a single focal-point was always more bearable than trying to take in everything all the time.
For a while, there wasn't much to even pay attention to. The client spoke to various people, danced, ordered drinks, all very normal, and all taking far too long for Beaux's liking. It had to have been at least two hours before sweet relief came in the form of the client heading over to the other end of the building, into a more secluded corner that was largely shaded by drapes and barriers. Intended as somewhere to sit, but very convenient as somewhere to also avoid prying eyes, Beaux had seen more than one pair of giggly drunks during the last couple of hours hide themselves away only to emerge a while later, noticeably more dishevelled. So, when their client headed in the same direction, all smiles and laughter with another, no one around them paid them any clear mind. It was easy to assume that they were just another drunk couple who couldn't keep off each other long enough to leave the club entirely.
Beaux took this cue to move closer, so as to continue keeping an eye on the matter per the contract. Someone offered them a drink on their way, shouting over the music about some 2-for-1 deal on house spirits, but they waved the person off politely as they could and continued on their way. The person who'd been following their client hadn't seemed like the type to cause problems, but Beaux guessed it never hurt to be too careful. They managed to find somewhere just close enough for the client to be in view, but not so close that they'd be noticed, and then it was more waiting, until whatever business taking place behind those partitions was complete, and they could finally leave this place.
From this new position, Beaux could see more of the club than previously. All the people drinking, partying, without a care in the world, it was such a foreign concept to Beaux. It felt impossible to imagine, being able to enjoy this kind of environment, from the mechanical body they inhabited. At some point, they'd long since forgotten what inhabiting a body of flesh and bone that didn't ache and creak and pick up every little stimulus even felt like. Really, they preferred not to dwell on it too much, but at least thinking passed the time.
And then a face in the crowd met their gaze.
No.
They weren't looking at Beaux.
It was more accurate to say they were looking straight through beaux, at nothing in particular. Where everyone else moved and laughed and drank, they seemed to just bounce around between bodies, not minding who they bumped into. They barely seemed to be present, in a way that was almost disconcerting.
Beaux had seen people in all manner of states working as a bouncer for various establishments, some giddy and high, some sobbing, some violent, but something seemed to emanate from the stranger in the crowd that Beaux couldn't put words to. It sent a feeling of....discomfort through them.
Beaux kept watching as the stranger tipped their head back slowly, eyes seeming to roll at a delay towards the ceiling. And then they started shifting . was it the coloured lights making their hair look like it was changing colour, or was it really shifting through hues of blue, purple, orange, green? Beaux did not have to wonder for long. Hair suddenly seemed to sprout from their head, longer, longer, and longer still; and it definitely wasn't the lights making their nose change shape, longer, then rounder, then angular. Their cheeks rose and fell, becoming more defined and then softer again; their lips fuller, and then thinner; not that they were really paying attention to this stranger's body, but Beaux was sure their chest had been flat before where now it was substantially fuller. A synth sleeve , Beaux quickly realised. One that didn't seem to be able to settle on an appearance.
As they slowly rose from their seat, Beaux was better able to see the expression on the stranger's face now. It sent a shiver through their body, sparking its way through mechanical joints in a way that made them wince internally. It was a look they knew well. Slowly, Beaux tipped their head up to the ceiling too, and then back down to the stranger before them. The ceiling of this particular club was mirrored; and Beaux knew well what that could mean in the wrong circumstances.
The original purpose of their presence in this establishment was long forgotten by now; Beaux was entirely preoccupied with the need to do something for this stranger who felt familiar in all the worst ways. And it was with that thought that Beaux approached, slowly, nudging their way through the crowd as best as they could.
"Don't stare....'s bad for you." The words rang out through distortion, caused in part by disuse, and in part by a voice box not really designed for regular speech. Despite this, the stranger did seem to hear them, at least enough for it to break them out of whatever stupor they were in. They lowered their gaze like they were moving in slow-motion and looked at Beaux; actually at Beaux, this time. The face that looked at Beaux now was nothing like what it had been mere minutes ago. Now, it was soft and round, almost childlike; their hair had settled into a waist-length cut, with bangs going straight across, and a radioactive green shade. Their eyes flitted through a series of different emotions that moved too fast for Beaux to fully register, let alone read, and then they settled into something that Beaux couldn't quite tell if they were supposed to read as nothing more than tired, drug-induced daze or something intended to be seductive. Beaux opted for a combination of the two. Even still, there was something disconcerting in the stranger's eyes; something piercing . Beaux was familiar with danger, and though people weren't exactly always their strong suit, danger most certainly was. They could feel danger a mile away, the way it would settle into their fingers, their legs, ready to act.
Only they found themself not quite sure what to do with this. They didn't feel overtly threatened , but something didn't feel...right. They felt a need to get this stranger out of here that they couldn't identify the source of. Maybe it was that sinking familiarity.
"Tonight's business is concluded, you are free to leave." The crackle of a voice coming through on a built-in earpiece jerked Beaux's attention away from the matter before them and, at last, back to the original reason they'd even come here. With it, came the realisation that they attention had been completely captured by the stranger in the crowd. That made a pang of guilt wring through them. It was truly lucky that, by the sounds of it, the client's rendezvous had gone off without a hitch and Beaux's assistance hadn't actually been needed in the end. Their skills as a hired hand were one of the only things they could rely on themself for anymore, Beaux wasn't sure what they would've done had something happened and they had not been prepared to respond immediately. Nor did they, as they very quickly realised, want to dwell on the idea for too long. At the very least, this meant their attention was now truly freed up to help the stranger in the crowd who had put such a pit in their stomach-
The stranger who was now nowhere to be seen.
Beaux glanced around the club, scanning the crowd in search for the figure who had been right in front of them only moments ago, but to no avail. For a moment, they were confused, and then they remembered - a synth . It was entirely plausible that the stranger had used the opportunity to alter their appearance yet again to slip away unnoticed while Beaux had seemed distracted. And if that was the case, there was no hope of Beaux finding them now. If they'd had longer, or thought of it sooner, they might have been able to tag the stranger and make them locatable in the future. Unfortunately, as it stood, they could be anyone, anywhere, doing anything, and in any state. The thought weighed Beaux's shoulders down, heavy as it settled in. They'd barely even exchanged a word, the stranger hadn't even answered, had barely even acknowledged Beaux's very presence. Even still, Beaux felt an inexplicable pull towards them. Or perhaps it was perfectly explicable, and Beaux simply didn't want to dwell on why exactly they were so concerned for an unnamed stranger dissociating into their own reflection. Attempts to do so were met with a wave of fatigue that told them it was time to go, regardless. The night's job was over, there was no need to remain any longer than necessary in this environment that suddenly felt so stimulating, somehow even more cloyingly bright and noisy than an hour ago.
As Beaux left the club, and the entire length of the journey home, those eyes stayed with them. Even as they nudged the doors open and slipped inside about as gently as someone of their size and stature could, that distant gaze, unfocused and hazy, looking at something only they could see, the feeling it invoked was horrible in its familiarity.
"Beaux! good to see you return safe, can I get you anything?" They shook their head, words beyond them. By now, the weariness had sunk its claws deep into their mind. "My goodness, your labours have not been easy on you this evening, I see. Worry not, your room is ready for you as always, and if you require servicing please do not hesitate to call upon me." Beaux nodded, slow, and made their way towards the lift, and then their room, and then their bed, where they could finally stop . Though even then, thoughts of the shifting stranger did not leave their mind. They hoped, wherever this person was, that they had somewhere safe to return to also.