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font-size: 12px;">Whether sex work and pornography is inherently good or bad has been a heated debate among feminists for decades. Does it spit in the face of intimacy, prey upon disadvantaged groups struggling to find employment, and encourage objectification and violence against women through its usage of sadomasochistic images? Or does it provide an opportunity for women to get in touch with their bodies and not feel ashamed of their sexuality, does it subvert the patriarchy by using those bodies to take men's money, and is it a legitimate source of income for those with little chance of being hired elsewhere? In all likelihood, the answer probably lies muddled in the middle, but Cecelia doesn't usually trouble herself with such arguments anyway. Ultimately, her strip club <i>earns her money</i>, and that's the most important thing in her opinion.<br/>
<br/>
Decades ago, she never would have thought herself the type to open such a club. Sure, she'd always thought people should have the right to do whatever they wanted with their own bodies, but that rampant eroticism wasn't something she was eager to attach to her face. Prejudice, maybe, but mostly she had just wanted to seem respectable in the traditional way. So she opened up her nightclub, which was fine, but it didn't do nearly as well as she'd hoped it would. And after... <i>everything</i>, she eventually reached the conclusion that like it or not, sex sells. Night clubs are practically a dime a dozen in Black City, and given that her own... collaborator Vincent opened up his own club, she figured it would be best not to step on any toes. Strip clubs, however, she found to be surprisingly uncommon, and of those that existed, they all seemed to leave lawsuits behind like a trail of slime.<br/>
<br/>
Which meant she'd have no trouble recruiting staff by simply offering good working conditions, and with her flair, of course the club would be a hit. And when she finally opened the place, her predictions were correct. She offered reasonable pay, flexible scheduling, actual days off, and most importantly — the promise to chop off the wandering hands of any customer who didn't recognize their place. Literally, in some instances. Only the best get hired, of course, unless she is feeling particularly generous, and that paired with the club's excellent selection of alcohol, popularity found them quickly.<br/>
<br/>
It is a perfectly respectable joint, her taste leaving the various fluorescent lights that might have appeared gaudy anywhere else seeming playful and charming. She always has entertainment playing, some band or other with enough talent to captivate an audience, generally abstaining from groups whose style is too aggressive and loud for the maintained elegance of the building. She can't have any of their patrons — or anyone else, for that matter — getting the wrong idea about what kind of place <i>Delirium</i> is.<br/>
<br/>
<div style="text-align: center"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#44185f"><i class="fa fa-claw-marks"></i> <i class="fa fa-claw-marks"></i> <i class="fa fa-claw-marks"></i> <i class="fa fa-claw-marks"></i></span>​</div><br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#d39ef3">"No child should be deprived of their culture and having good memories from their childhood."</span><br/>
<br/>
Cecelia taps a manicured talon against her smiling lips, the image of her friend Artemis projected proudly from one of the club's few silent television sets. Artemis and her charities. It's sweet, really, but Cecelia herself has never found schmoozing with the less fortunate particularly rewarding. Usually, she'll donate a great deal to Artemis's causes, partly out of friendship and partly for the metaphorical gold star points. But she rarely attends the events herself. And besides, a were supporting a cause for magi? Her presence would be more shocking than her absence is. Although perhaps that's all the more reason to go...<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#d39ef3">"Ms. Katz,"</span> a voice interrupts, belonging to her bartender Eros. His actual name is Elijah, but several of her staff choose to employ stage names, even the ones that never actually go onto the stage. The name is uninspired, but he's pretty enough to make up for it with his flaming curls and his dark puppy dog eyes peering behind the small black and white masks the employees must wear. She would probably sleep with him if she didn't want to seem like a stereotypical boss sleeping with her employees. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#d39ef3">"Would you like a refill?"</span> He taps her now empty whiskey glass with the neck of the bottle of expensive bourbon, muscular arm flexing beneath the thin short-sleeved dress shirt he's required to wear.<br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#44185f">"I probably shouldn't — I'd hate to get buzzed this early in the night. Thank you, though, darling,"</span> she purrs, caressing the underside of his jaw gently. What? She didn't promise not to <i>touch</i> them. All of her staff is used to her fleeting touches at this point, which she of course keeps from the neck up. She loves watching the mix of elation and anxiety in their gazes when she does it.<br/>
<br/>
Eros's throat moves subtly as he nods, turning away to attend to one of the few patrons also at the large rectangular bar. Dinner hours are only just starting at this point, so most of the dancers and the entertainment have yet to arrive, giving the bartenders and waiters more time to shine in their less-skimpy-than-the-dancers-but-more-skimpy-than-the-entertainment uniforms. <i>Delirium</i>'s food is, of course, exquisite. Because she wouldn't settle for less.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#d39ef3">"Quit it, jackass!"</span><br/>
<br/>
Oh, here we go again. With a sigh, she hops off her seat and slinks over to the table where the commotion is occurring, her waitress Melanie — also a fake name, and is using a realistic name more or less creative than just using your own? — standing in a defensive position, face twisted in disgust at the young man at the table, who looks both surprised and pleased with himself. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#44185f">"What seems to be the problem over here?"</span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#d39ef3">"He keeps groping my ass,"</span> Melanie snaps.<br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ab70cf">"I did not!"</span> the man defends, holding his hands up in a show of innocence, but looking entirely guilty.<br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#44185f">"Well, sir, I have a policy to believe my employees over the words of the customer, and since 'no touching without consent' is our number one rule here,"</span> she explains, gesturing to the many signs listing the establishment's rules posted around the room, <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#44185f">"I'm afraid you're going to have to apologize and then promptly leave."</span><br/>
<br/>
Now he looks very much <i>not</i> pleased. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ab70cf">"I'm not leaving because some bitch is lying about me. I haven't even barely touched my food!"</span><br/>
<br/>
She checks her nails, feigning disinterest. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#44185f">"I'm being quite generous with my instructions here. Far more merciful than what will happen if you don't."</span> The man just glares back at her, unmoving, probably out of some childish spite. She rolls her eyes. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#44185f">"Alright, well you asked for it."</span> She snaps her fingers, getting the attention of a couple of bodyguards near the door. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#44185f">"Take him out back, if you will,"</span> she smiles, smug as the man is dragged away to be made a proper example of.<br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#d39ef3">"Thank you, Ms. Katz,"</span> Melanie sighs, shoulders and face relaxing as she takes the now abandoned plate of food from the table to discard.<br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#44185f">"It's my pleasure,"</span> she assures, with too many teeth.</div><div style="
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font-size: 10px;"><abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="DELIRIUM • BLACK CITY">LOCATION</abbr> | <abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="NPCs">INTERACTIONS</abbr> | <abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="VINCENT | ARTEMIS">MENTIONS</abbr></div></div><div style=" margin: auto; margin-top: 5px; height: 10px; max-width: 100%; text-align: center; font-size: 8px;">Code by Jenamos</div>