[center][color=00aeef][h3]Lewis Yung[/h3][/color][/center]

The art of seduction was, as all forms of art were, a skilled trade practiced by many but only mastered by few. Every smile, every twitch, every breath was a careful brushstroke in a masterpiece of lust and wiles. Only a born Picasso or Micheal Angelo could get away with such sultry looks.

Unfortunately, Lewis was the equivalent of a blind two-year-old with broken arms and no thumbs. But hey, at least there was always improvisation.

Lewis--or 'Camilla', as he decided to name this new disguise--sashayed towards the man. His hips, generously curved, swayed with each step in a sort of rythm. The  neckline 'accidentally' dip lower, allowing the man and other onlookers to catch a view of some nicely sized cleavage. A little too much? Perhaps. But judging by the way the man stared at Lewis' body, they didn't mind.

Lewis slid into stool beside his target, his lips pulled in hopes of what would look like a mysterious smile. "Well, aren't you a gentleman," Lewis purred. His voice came out sweet and rich, rich but still light. A ghost of an accent, but from where was unknown. A perfect fit for a singer or, in this case, an easy con. 

"Camilla." The name easily slipped out of Lewis' tongue, despite just being thought up. A talent formed from years of practice. He flashed Mr. Gentleman a flirtatious smile. "Camilla Renois." His eyes flitted up and down Mr. Gentleman's body, and for a moment he resisted an urge to whistle. Not bad. Not bad at all. "It's very much a pleasure to meet you." That was the first truth he told since walking into the bar.