Welcome to Gaia! ::

Camellia's establishment was certainly...different from his grandfather's. Full of warm, bright light, there were no dim corners in his tents- they were filled with music and charming laughter, decorated to whatever theme suited that day's attire. Most of the time, it was cool, simple lines, letting the courtesans shine in their equally subdued clothing; some days, however, the place was decorated stunningly, and the courtesans dressed to match. Today it was 'high tea on the lawn,' and they were all dressed in Victorian era finery.

Cama was no exception, dressed in a black, grey, and white Victorian suit with an emerald cameo at his throat. His hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, black strands confined to let the green bangs fall softly around his face. With a smile, he leaned over s**c's shoulder and kissed his cheek.

"Papa! What brings you here~?"

A small gesture from Cama had one of the 'flowers' bringing them a tray of tea; he took the offered seat, shaking his head. Dark grey gloves contained his lethal fingernails.

"There isn't anything particularly interesting here, there never is. I'm sure Grandfather's ship is far more entertaining." He raised an eyebrow at s**c as he stirred his tea. "But, it's good to see you. How is Father?"

Focused...Cama glanced away, thinking about that statement with a frown before answering. Business had been very good, he was making himself a fortune...but in all honesty, his happiness wasn't anywhere on Poes. More and more, he felt himself slipping away to Midgard.

"I've found...a few distractions here and there," he murmured. He pulled out a long, thin cigarette, lighting it to produce some of Enlil's purple smoke. "Can't work all the time."

Caught, Cama turned his frown on his papa- but it was too late, and he knew it. s**c was farm more perceptive than most people gave him credit for. With a sigh, he sat back in his chair, so pretty in his suit as he brooded.

"He's a Ballotin...in a sense," he said abruptly. "By adoption, I suppose. He lives on Midgard."

"His name is Charade." Might as well tell all of the dirty details...he found he wanted his papa to know. Wanted to tell somebody. "The son of Tegminae and Kathann. He's extremely young...with these beautiful wings, that light up at the slightest reason."

His eyes went distant, and he sighed. He couldn't afford to leave for a few days, he had business to attend. Still, it was a high-stress environment, and he was starting to need that relaxation far too much.

Lifting his cup, Cama forced himself to meet s**c's eyes like it didn't matter. He'd been more than a little worried about his family's reaction...but he was an excellent actor. "Oh...fourteen at the youngest, sixteen at the oldest. I'm not really sure, myself."

"He's a child. Too easy to use," Cama snorted, but oh, how he lied. The thought made him sick. Much as he had tried to keep himself in check around the boy...he was failing completely. Damn.

"This is stupid," he muttered, running a hand over his eyes. "I have business I should be attending to."