<div style="background-color:#1c102c; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i.imgur.com/njlHEsP.gif">[ img ]</a></div><div style="background-color:#2e2e31; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><img alt="" src="http://i.imgur.com/TH1jDkE.png" style="float:left; padding:6px;"/><span style="color: #2e2e31">----------</span><br/>Clear, bright perfect moonlight shone through the door's small window, illuminating the cold steps below. Dust swirled in the air, their paths undetermined, undisturbed as they moved slowly. The air was cold, unwelcoming, warning all who entered of all that had taken place before. This warning always went unheeded as the smells of the smoky club below greeted the visitors. The promise of an escape from the everyday lay just down the stairs and through the swinging doors; a land where every person venturing down could find what they were so desperately searching for. <br/><br/>The pure light of the moon diffused into the soft glow of the single light bulb at the end of the long, narrow hallway. Taking the first step would prove to be vital. Many who enter the door never make it past the first stair. The entrance was that of an old time horror movie, the dark depths unforgiving, weeding out the pretenders from those who truly wanted release from their lives.<br/><br/>The door squeaked open, the once dormant dust swirling rapidly as the breeze rolled in, illuminated by the now intense moonlight flooding the passage. The flakes of filth danced in the draft, adding to the mysterious atmosphere of the club so exclusively located away from prying eyes. As the door shut, the air returned to its quiet resonant state, its silent beauty going unseen as eyes surveyed the long, passionless hallway; the hallway that could very well lead to destinies untold, to horrors unseen, to something more than one could mentally handle. <br/><br/>Step after stony step, the processional of echoing sounds hit the walls, bouncing back to the entrance. The click of the shoes as they continued down the dirty and dingy passage began to meld with the natural rhythm of what lay beyond the next set of doors. A mysterious phenomenon as every person's individual beat was just that: individual. Yet the beats fit with each of them perfectly, working them into the crescendo-ing music.<br/><br/>Even outside the new set of doors, the atmosphere had changed. No longer was it cold and unwelcoming, but warm and inviting. Something could be heard, smelled or felt for every person as they made their way closer. Everything was different and still the same. Music could be felt underfoot, the bass pounding the concrete, enticing one to enter. Light could be seen through a crack, eluding to the almost inevitable sins partaken within its walls. <br/><br/>A seductive voice could be heard, ringing out over the inner pandemonium, silencing all else, her dulcet tones holding one completely entranced. Something about the way the notes soothed an aching soul could hold anyone there. The voice that spoke to each consciousness reaching a level deeper than one would expect. <br/><br/>One man would see what was lost, a ghost of his once important life, so real he could have reached out and touched it. <br/><br/>Another would see the perfect storm, pleasing to the eye, dangerous to be caught in, creating his great escape. <br/><br/>Each soul could reach out for what he wanted, for what they craved most, and see it clear as day. Pressing forward would mean the end of what was real and the beginning of what had been or could be. <br/><br/>Would he take the plunge? <br/><br/>Would he seek out the unknown?<br/><br/>The final barrier was pierced as the doors were opened wide, the smoke of burning cigarettes and candle light met the stranger in a cloud of allurement and wonder.<br/><br/>Backstage, the lights surrounding her mirror created an incandescent glow off her alabaster skin. Long, flowing locks of warm browns adorned her head. A cloud of powder hung around her as she perfected her visage. Shimmer surrounded her eyes, the only hint of what lay beneath her cool exterior. Eyes bathed in shadow became the main attraction of her features, the luxurious curls framing her face. Blood red lipstick graced her lush lips, the last of the necessities finally completed as the tube was placed atop her vanity.<br/><br/>Not a single hair could be out of place. Not a single thing would break the illusion.<br/><br/>Standing, she picked up her spritzer and sprayed the light fragrance of roses and nightshade into the air. Walking through the mist, she held her breath, steadying her demeanor. Nothing could distract her from the task at hand. There were lost souls, souls in search of what they couldn't see, couldn't touch, couldn't taste. She was their only saving grace, and she knew it. Her heart ached for their plights, feeling each as she used it to her advantage. She was empathetic, wanting to create some solace for their sad existences. They got what they wanted, and she got what she needed.<br/><br/>Opening the door to her dressing room, she walked the dully-lit hallway to the back of the stage, and waited. Waited for the time when she would no longer be Iris, but rather what each needed from her. She'd lose her identity and move within their forsaken memories, shedding light on their lost loves, lost lives.<br/><br/>As the lights dimmed, their bright hues dull against the wild walls, a hush fell over the crowd. The candles were the only thing shining aglow in the smoky congregation of drunkards. The smoke, perfect in its dissipating purity, swirling in the air, reached out to the people surrounding their vast expansive illusions. Their beauty, the exquisiteness it possessed became invisible, attention turned to the stage. The aura of bright light shot up to the stage, illuminating the crimson curtain, billowing in the slight breeze. <br/><br/>A perfect leg, flawless and appearing as fine as silk to the touch, slowly made its way between the two veils; the veils shielding the startling picturesque figure on the other side. A black, strapped, stiletto adorned her foot, her legs appearing to go on for miles and miles.<br/><br/>The faint hint of black silk whispering as it moved, provoked the eyes of observers to move up the leg. The dress hit half way up the thigh, one side almost fully exposed to the public eye, enticing them more. Her figure finally stepped out of the shadows fully, parting the curtains with a smooth hand. Her skin, glowing brightly in the light against the black of her clothes, shown sublime. The dress, two straps fitting over her slender shoulders, the frame showing off her pleasing features. <br/><br/>Her graceful movements took her to the center of the stage, a gentle sway to her hips as she walked, heels clicking lightly to the subtle beat of the beat of the drum, seductive cellos joining with undertones of glossy melodic chords.<br/><br/>A hand reached up and pulled the microphone stand close, another hand holding the pole, tenderly stroking the stand. Her mouth opened, her faultless ruby lips drawing the all the attention.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic">"I’ve seen the world, done it all, had my cake now…"</span></div><br/><br/>Her golden eyes surveyed the crowd, meeting hungry, lustful gazes everywhere. Men wanted her. Men needed her. And, here on this dark and mysterious night, they were getting their fix of impossible grandeur in her voice, appearance, and personality. Her pleasurable tones rang out clearly through the club, entrancing all who heard her sing. <br/><br/>She was no longer Iris. <br/><br/>She was what they craved her to be. <br/><br/>Her voice wove a spell around them, unknown to them, allowing them to see what they wanted. She locked eyes with a few, but after those fleeting moments, she'd move on, meeting yet more hungry scrutiny. Not that she wasn't used to it, it was just overwhelming at times.<br/><br/>Taking the microphone from the stand, Luxuria proceeded to keep the beat of the song with her hips, walking down the stairs into the audience.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic">"Diamonds brilliant, and Bel Air now…"</span></div><br/><br/>Her body moved in time with the song, her movements seductive. Alluring. All else went unnoticed as she swayed to the music, her actions portraying the words. Her body bent, her back over the table in the direct front of the stage, her eyes connecting with a man directly in front of her. She rolled her body to face him, placing one hand on the seat as her other hand reached up and lightly stroked his cheek. With a fleeting look to the man next to him, she moved on, her dress swishing to reveal more of her legs as she walked.<br/><br/>The song continued, her dulcet tones captivating her audience, her finger tips skimming over countless men. The women glared at her, jealous of her talent and obvious charm, their date's stolen attention on her instead. She slowly walked up the stairs of the stage, and stood again in front of the microphone, her hands holding the stand once more. <br/><br/>"Will you still love me, when I’m not young and beautiful?"<br/><br/>Her voice sang the last words of the song, and the light vanished, the beat dying, the club silent. She stood, in the candle light's glow for a moment more as the applause erupted, before she disappeared behind the curtain. One last look in the crowd, her eyes met a familiar figure's gaze. She held it for a moment, her head declining in the faintest of nods as the curtain closed around her. <br/><span style="color: #2e2e31">----------</span></div><br/><div style="text-align: center;">Tag: <a href="//www.creativefreedomrpg.com/memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&amp;u=110711">@Fain</a> | Notes:For the dress, think...Jessica Rabbit.</div></div>