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Gail chatted away at Quenton while looking him over and checking his ID. Even if he claimed Colin had invited him, she had a responsibility to the DCBC to not let someone in without verifying a few things. It wasn't that Quenton looked particularly...dangerous, but without an employee there to vouch for him or some note that he'd be coming by from one...Gail was wary. Friendly, but wary. "So you said one of our dancers told you to come? I don't have any notes about you visiting today..."

Near his head (which was also near his foot at that moment), Colin's phone vibrated softly from within his dance bag. He stopped doing the stretch and crossed his legs while fishing it out and checking who'd messaged him. The danseur broke out in a smile when he saw it was from Quenton and he had to stifle a chuckle at the content. Oh god, I bet Gail is driving him crazy. Whoo...that should be interesting.

Colin sent a quick message to the affirmative back, stuffing it back into his bag and pushing up from his space on the floor. Around him other dancers were still doing stretches to stay limber, or practicing on their own while September took a short break. He went to the Ballet Master and informed them his artist friend was there, asking if it was still fine that he sat in to sketch. With a small frown September acquiesced, but also told him to hurry up as the break would be over shortly.

With confirmation but no shoes, Colin hurried out of the main practice area towards reception II and his waiting friend. No one blinked at the sight of a dancer in practice gear penguin-walking around DCBC; leggings over a fitted dance bottom, a DCBC logo t-shirt that clung from sweat and a headband to keep his godawful curly hair out of his eyes. Just another day at the 'office'. He waved and put on a bright smile for Quenton when he got close enough to see him waiting, "Q-man! I'm so glad you finally made it!" The danseur made it all the way to his friend, reached out and gave his arm a squeeze in greeting. "I'd hug you but I'm sweaty as hell. Gail, have you been torturing my friend Quenton?"

Gail scoffed, "Would I torture one of your friends? You know better." She chided the scarred artist, "You should have said you were here for Prinny."

"Don't listen, she would have done the same things if you said you'd been called in by Christopher or the owners." Leaning against the reception II desk, he batted his lashes and poured on the charm, "Gail, be a love and get him on the approved list? Pleaaaase?"

"Yes yes, just a minute..." With a copy of his ID made, she returned the bit of plastic to it's owner. "You two go on, I'll take care of the paperwork. And you, Quenton is it? Stop by here before you leave, I'll have a pass made for you."

Colin bounced a bit, flashing both with a brilliant smile. "Beautiful. Thank you Gail, you're amazing! C'mon Quenton, I talked to September already about you sitting in. It's all good. Just gotta convince the dancers, but that won't be hard. We like attention."

Colin slid Quenton an amused look at the query, wondering what his friend was thinking to make a curious face like that. As the boys left the reception station, Gail made a little sound of surprise; she’d finally placed Quenton’s last name as one she’d seen before on the guest registers…or even the schedules of the higher staff. Christopher definitely knew Stroud Marinus…was the young woman a close relation to the Prince’s friend? Something to ponder throughout the day, when she had time - a pleasant diversion.

“Hmm, penguins? They’re okay…” The danseur was about to ask why Quenton had put forth such a query, when he realized the connection. “Oh! Well, it’s probably because almost everyone calls me the Prince around here. Pretty sure it's because I'm a principle dancer and often end up playing the role of the prince in our productions. Some, like Gail, have shortened it further and use ‘Prinny’.” Colin chuckled and winked at his friend before whispering ‘dood’ in his direction. “Though I suppose it’d work either way, since ballet dancers tend to walk like penguins from being turned out all the time.” Technical term, that. Turned out.

Outside the closed door of the largest practice room, he paused and turned towards the artist. “If you only sketch one person, get the brunette that dances next to me. Jess is our principal ballerina and if you get on her good side, you’ll be set.” Because with two of the main principles friendly with Quenton, he’d have a much easier time getting the rest of the crew to relax and accept him as part of DCBC life. “She’s in a Hello Kitty shirt today. I mean, you’d probably want to sketch her anyway, she’s got perfect form, but…”

True enough, his reasons for explaining were based only in being nice and not leaving his friend hanging; it never crossed his mind that Quenton wouldn't have gotten 'it' on his own. Quenton was smart, he would have.

"Sounds good to me. I hope you have fun doing it." Dancing was fun for Colin, even when it wasn't necessarily something most would deem fun...like endless repetitions on the barre. He truly hoped that Quenton got as much enjoyment from his craft as he himself did with dance...otherwise it would be so sad!

"Mm, well. She's got a really big ego and can be hard to work with." Clearly the danseur didn't like speaking ill of his co-worker; she was a good person (he thought) and an excellent dancer (usually). But she got really weird about things sometimes, haughty and downright rude on occasion. "Even if she likes what you do, she probably won't act like it unless she's in a good mood. I just don't want you feeling like you did anything wrong if that happens."

Listening to Quenton was always interesting, the way he put words and concepts together...the way he sounded. He is so smart! Colin's concerned expression shifted to a smile as the blond put forth that he would not be bothered by Jess regardless of what she did, and then became a mega-watt smile when Quenton called him a friend. "She can be difficult. But I'm really glad to hear you say that. You do such beautiful work, I'd hate to hear anyone saying something bad about it." Honestly, he felt she was a shark that would devour those under her for a scrap of an opportunity but that was normal in the ballet world. Something they all accepted but that people outside the professional danseur life would probably not understand or appreciate (since it was damned unpleasant).

With the door opened, Colin strode in and waited for Quenton to follow before bringing him to September for inspection. "Ballet Master, this is the artist I spoke of, Quenton Marinus."

September looked over Colin and Quenton before nodding, "You may sit by the piano, Mr. Marnius. Do try to not distract my dancers." Turning back to Colin, the Ballet Master frowned, "Back in place! Quickly quickly!" A wink was delivered in Quenton's direction before he returned to his place with September following. The blond had barely settled to his barre when directions were barked out, a long and seemingly unintelligible collection of numerals and french words that all the ballet dancers listened intently to.

"Yes, you've got it? Good. First position! Margaret, straighten up! James, correct your turn out or I will fix it for you!" The piano started back up, a mousy looking woman sitting with a straight back as she played. "Aaaaaaand Effacé! Two Three Four--" The drone of September over the sprightly music was accompanied by the sound of fourty-plus danseurs moving their feet across the floor in sync. While calling out the movements as the dancers made them, the Ballet Master walked amongst them, making corrections here and there.

Sometimes they would even give praise.