Post by mr. zeus hollistero 🦚 яave on Dec 15, 2021 13:43:24 GMT -5
The Beauty, the Epicenter of -- it's no surprise Ainara runs the show, darling.
District 8's a grimy place, but on the west bend of town past the town square and factory complexes sits one of three night scenes a girl can dream of topping. Bella Noches; for the real beauties. These night girls with their mile long legs and six inch nails, there's something addicting with it. Seductive, the way life finds itself in their little way ward club, club kids and real woman and dazzling queerness. It's the one place fantasy hasn't died out yet in District 8 -- a sanctuary, in a way, for real artistry.
And on Thursdays, trans women drink for free.
Ainara, octuple threat as she may be, rose to motherhood after the passing of Aurora LaBeaux Gaultier. Clutched a sceptre and two heels two sizes too big for a dainty woman as herself -- she became the Beauty of the Night. Mother of the Ball, Mother of the Haus; she turned girls like Lorraine into legends with a single press on and a promise. You become one of her children, you have one chance at glamour again in District 8.
Seamstresses become models, tailors become kings, by the expert hands of Ainara Gaultier. Twenty Seven years and two trips to the D.C. later, she's learned by hand what it takes to make it in a district that preys on your downfall. She was born to two factory workers, as most people are in Eight, and was destined to be a man with calloused hands and- well, we shan't continue.
Sometimes, you just have to grab destiny by the jewels and do it yourself.
Category: Prison Baby. The children keep hanging her mugshots above the back stage vanities, stray ostrich feather stuck in the tapes. She'd been twice -- once at nineteen, Aurora, she & Haziel caught in seven fur coats with over twenty pockets full of jewels, gems and glitz. Ainara worked two jobs in jail, overtime pay checks from a tailor workshop just to back a make shift saloon. She'd trade hair cuts for cigs and toiletries and started bedazzling her jump suit with whatever coins she had extra.
They remembered her the second go round, she learned to get in good with the for-lifer's. Peacekeepers took her in the middle of a performance and the dolls lived for the stunt. Nothing but two pasties, a thong and a dream -- half of the audience didn't realize she wouldn't come back the next day. Not until they saw the tip jar still full did they know; Ainara sniffs coin out like a bloodhound, she'd be dead before she left behind a full bucket.
PK's got her good, cuffed her for smuggling her kids off to six so they could transition. Crime is a crime; Ainara remains unshakable. Behind bars comes another work week, what is there to regret? She lived her life working as she had before, stapling the letters from her Haus together as they came. The only time she cries in prison is the day Flynn Garner is crowned.
Lorraine, her legendary child, didn't feel dead.
Ainara comes home to District 8 on a technicality. Women like her don't get second chances often - especially when Panem has an excuse to take it away from her. The Haus of Gaultier's luster has faded -- "¿cerrado? Dios mío, Haziel, ¿a qué te refieres?"
"¡Ainara, no tenemos dinero! ¿Qué crees que iba a pasar?"
"¡De ninguna manera!" She shouts back over an empty lobby, Haziel and herself standing in the middle of a dream gone by. Aurora would turn in her grave to find Bella Noches turned into a tacky workshop or some bodega tailor's upgrade. Lorraine dead and Achilles no where to be found, Ainara storms Mayor Hope's office with no plan on her mind but a binder, a red fur coat and a matching cossack hat. She'd sooner burn the place down than live to see the day 27 years goes down the drain.
There's a power she inherits as her heels clack against the tile floor of the Mayor's office, her mere presence commands.
"Excuse me," the secretary says, "do you have an appointment."
Ainara nods to Haziel, who slaps a stack of stapled letters onto the counter as if it means anything official.
"What is... um, okay. Well, you can't see Mayor Hope without an appointment."
"My eyes work fine, dear," she says, before barging into Pierre Hope's office. Haziel locks the door behind them, the demands spoken between them left for them alone. They discuss for thirty three minutes as Ainara clutches destiny by the jewels as she does.
And that is the day Haus of Gaultier returns to greatness.