Summary:At the end of a long night partying, Ren ends up at Priscilla's club. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Dancers gotta dance. It's just in their blood, and they can't give it up. At least, that's the story Priscilla Kitaen gives to anyone who finds out she took a couple years off a while back, with no sign of where she went or what she was up to. But now she's back, and entering her second month working at the Obsidian Club, just outside Alphabet City on the Lower East Side in Manhattan.
A converted small warehouse, the building is clean and pretty well appointed, though its only windows are skylights. Tasteful neon highlights features of pointed stone exterior, the signage proclaiming the Obsidian Club as an adult entertainment emporium and advertising their headlining dancer: Voodoo. Two bouncers in purple polo shirts and khakis check IDs at the door; those over 18 but under 21 get one hand stamp, while those over 21 get another. The cover is not too steep, but it isn't cheap. Tonight, though, female patrons get in without the two drink minimum and their covers are half-off; it's Ladies' Night.
The club is a lot cleaner and a lot nicer than a lot of places, an upscale club and doesn't traffic drugs and isn't connected to organized crime. They reopened just days ago after an 'incident' put the place closed for half a week for repairs. Yet already the club is jumping with attention and activity.
Front he front entrance the bar dominates the right hand side, a beaded curtain covering a hall entrance at the near end and a gauzy set of long veils covering an entrance at the far end. One main stage with three brass poles dominates the rear of the space, with four smaller stages with single poles dotted throughout the rest of the main area, surrounded by booths and high tables to put the patrons near the action. To the far left is a space with a buffet and a few more tables, and at the furthest corner from the entrance is a neon-appointed exit leading to the VIP Room, where private dances can be held.
Inside, the staff consists of two bartenders, two more purple polo-wearing bouncers, a slightly balding middle-aged suit who looks more like he should be working for the IRS, and a collection of beautiful ladies in various lingerie or costumes either walking around serving drinks and food, or up on those stages dancing.
By the time Ren had found herself paying the cover to enter a strip club she had already been out drinking and partying. Ladies night, though! Always a good time to show up to an adult entertainment venue on ladies night, already drunk, potentially high, and ready to waste more money and oogle other ladies. ID is flashed, but she's stopped at the door.
"You gotta take the gloves off, lady." One of the bouncers states, "I can't, they're my arms." Ren answers, the two looking at one another. It could be an issue- someone would undoubtedly call club management. There's a lady with clawed gauntlets who claims she can't take them off because they are her arms. Not your average call.
The club doesn't generally do a big amount of business with residents of Mutant Town, but it's not unheard-of, and they work hard not to discriminate. Nevertheless, obvious weapons - even those built into the woman - are a concern, and do indeed warrant a visit fromt he management.
Said management proves to be said mid-height balding accountant-looking fellow. "Good evening, Miss. Mike, what's the problem?"
Mike explains, and the guy takes a look carefully, gesturing for a flashlight so he can get a good look at it. He opens his mouth to speak, to give some pronouncement —- when a very tall, caramel-skinned and outstandingly curvaceous woman in purple lingerie steps out through the door. "Hey there, Ren. Your first time here." She turns to the bouncers. "Mike, it's OK. Johnny, I've got her. Red, honey, come with me."
Priscilla just extends her arms, gathers the girl up and guides her through the door, heading towards the tables. "Where you want to sit, hon? I've seen you dance. Figure if you wanna watch us dance tonight, least we can do is let you in. You need anything to eat?"
Ren smiles- although the smile is a little confused as she's acknowledged and recognized. She dances under the name 'Cherry Manhattan'- but it isn't hard to figure out who she is. She's the only one with arms like that. "Oh, um, sure! Thanks!" she says as she follows behind Priscilla. "Oh, thanks for getting me in." she begins, "You've seen me dance? Didn't know anyone had seen me around here." she laughs as she resettles some black hair behind an ear.
"Oh, I'll sit anywhere- I'm here to see the show. I mean, it's a little bit study and a little bit lust." Ren continues with a dopey grin. She's clearly not sober, swaying as she follows close behind the other woman.
Pris gets Ren up to one of the tall stools in front of the main stage. "You're welcome. Of course I've seen Cherry Manhattan dance. Not a lot, mind you, but enough. You make an impression." The purple-eyed woman offers a little wink. "You settle in here, honey. Tell Kelly what you want; drink, food, she'll take good care of you. I'll see you in a bit." That said, Pris actually kisses Ren on the cheek, and then she scarpers off through that veil-curtained doorway.
A minute or so later, a mid-sized blonde approaches, offering a little smile and dressed in a Little Bo Peep lingerie costume. "Hi there, hon. You're Pris' guest, so just tell me what you want, we'll take good care of you. No worries, she'll be out soon." She offers her hand, apparently unconcerned with the bladed hands. "I'm Kelly."
Sure enough, in about four minutes the dancer on stage is cheered off, and the announcer mentions that she'll be out on the floor for lap- and private dances shortly Then the announcement is made: "Put your hands together, ladies and gentlemen, for the mystical, the magical, Voodoo!"
It's hard to miss that caramel skin and those curves; clearly Voodoo is Pris, the woman who let Ren into the club. And she is, frankly, pretty danged amazing, pulling off agility, grace, powerful athleticism and skill despite two-inch clear platform heels and those curves. Her presence tends to hit the audience like a gentle Mack truck; it's the rare patron who can manage to look away. And she seems to have a truly innate feel for exactly what a given patron around her stage wants and loves: legs, butts, feet, you name it, and she gives them exactly what they want, and the substantial tips tucked into her g-string prove it.
Ren grins, high on a mixture of drugs- her emotions are all over the place. Manic, but primarily positive. She certainly can't take her eyes off the various ladies- she's clearly enjoying the view. "Oh, wow! You saw me dance, that's great! I'm glad you like it!"
Ren then sits, and beams to Kelly. "Oh, a Manhattan." she says, taking Kelly's hand gently. The metal there is surprisingly warm- like a human hand should be… but with that metallic hardness. "I'm Ren, nice to meet you Kelly. I like the costume- did you make it yourself?" she wonders, with a certain professional curiosity. "I'm always looking for new costume ideas."
"Not this one, no." Kelly admits. "This is actually property of the club. My All American costume, though? That's one of mine. You'll probably see that later. Might even catch some of it." Kelly winks. "Did you want anything, honey?" Kelly asks, as Pris makes her way down the stage towards them.
Ren grins, waggles her eyebrows at the little tease. "Oh, yes! A Manhattan, please. It's my favorite cocktail." she says, as she looks into her purse, "Let me give you a tip up front, I'm already totally fucked so I might forget." she says as she pulls a twenty dollar bill out and puts it on Kelly's tray. "I'm probably going to drink a lot more, so. Better to let you know I appreciate it now, because I may be in *no* condition to thank you later."
Kelly accepts the tip and winks, then heads off towards the bar; she'll be back later.
Now that Ren is free, Pris saunters by, smiling as she climbs the nearest brass pole quite literally upside down, her long mane of ebon hair swirling around as she starts to spin and whirl herself, showing off that athleticism while also bringing her head down to conversational height with someone seated at the stage. "Having fun?" she asks as she spins past Ren.
Ren shrugs, just smiling to Pris as she plays Voodoo on stage. "Oh, absolutely!" she offers, honest as she watches Priscilla dance. Whatever she's on shifts those emotions to be wholly focused on the woman dancing. "That is so hard. How many new girls here have taken a header on the stage during practice? It's got to be at least fifty percent." she offers, talking a bit of 'shop'. Trying to hide the ogle of her fellow dancer.
Ren's happiness flutters, bubbled with fun and enjoyment and that general high that comes from drugs and drinking.
It's not as if Pris would mind ogling; look what she's doing for a living! But she's happy to chat amiably, though she can't for too long, as there are other customers. "It's a bit less than fifty percent, but most girls won't try upside down work until they're pretty sure they're stable. Even so, it happens. Practice, practice." the dancer offers, grinning as she picks up speed, her hair whipping out to brush against Ren as she sails around another few times, then performs an inverted split and lowers herself down slowly, still spinning, showing amazing athleticism and control.
Kelly returns just about then, putting the drink on the table in front of Ren with a light touch to her shoulder just to let her know. Then Kelly is off to another table.
"Oh, thank you!" Ren says to Kelly, taking the drink as she grins back to Priscilla, giving a little wink. "I took a header my first time." she admits, before sipping her drink with a happy sigh. "Well, you do make a good cocktail here."
Ren just continues to watch- both professionally and as a patron- curious to see the technique on show.
Priscilla continues her performance for Ren, and then slips away, continuing her way along the stage to perform for more patrons, gathering yet more donations and tips, tucked into what little remains of her continually diminishing costume. Kelly will eventually return to get Ren a refill. And after her performance on stage, Priscilla will return out front, once more in the lingerie from earlier, going from table to table inquiring for those interested in lapdances or private dances in the VIP rooms. She makes a point of stopping by to visit with Ren for a bit, discussing her dancing techniques and training, as well as costuming, before heading on to others. She is flirtacious and fun, but never heavy-handed at it, or pushy. She seems to instinctively know just what line to walk and never goes over the edge.
By the time Priscilla has finished dancing, Ren is all the drunker- a second cocktail in she's grinning like an idiot when she returns, "That was a great set.." she mumbles, "You move so nicely." she adds, high praise from someone who moves like Ren does- with almost hypnotic precision- the metal ribbons only add to that. The rest of the conversation carries on a bit of style and costuming- things she really does enjoy. That bit she loves- talking about dance is pure bliss- it's her true joy and love. Pure and fantastic.
Sipping her cocktail, she continues to watch Priscilla after she heads on- just watching movements and how she does her job.