<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://questionablefuture.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/lucy-liu.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Jia Li<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>Unknown<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 3rd, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Afternoon, closer to evening<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Den of Eastern Delights<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Mr. Lee<br/><hr/><br/>Opium stunk to her nose and was rotten to her eyes.  The scent of desperation was heavy in the air and to her eyes the scene of slavery played out among her people.  More disappointingly to Jia Li was that this routine was conducted by her own people to her own.  Proud, ancient and noble her people deserved better than what she saw at the Den of Eastern Delights.  Yet her place now was not to cast this institution down but rather to provide a simple service.  The good fight could not be won on an empty stomach and with no weapons in hand to wage that fight.  So she swallowed down her native born pride to make her hurried steps toward the back door of this landscape of rot.  A quick knock was given by her hand to the door.<br/><br/>Against her back was slung the dry cleaning of the women working here.  Jia Li used the term working very loosely since she doubted even the women would call this working.  Few had any sense of what day this was much less which position they were in or what man was atop them.  A couple of miners could be heard grunting and laughing from the front which simply made her skin crawl.  One hand moved to touch her body as if assuring herself that no bugs crawled on her clothes and no person was laying hands on her.  The smooth silk of her clothing was an improvement over the rugged cotton she had worn earlier.  At Fu Leng’s the owner did not see the use of wearing dirty clothes to deliver clean ones.  So the white top and pants were far more traditional and crafted of actual silk.  Printed flowers of light blue and yellow lay across her body though even a bit of dirt clung to her now.  Jia Li had an innate ability to get dirty no matter the setting.  Even her features were clean now as the lady had scrubbed her face before she went out.  Not many would guess that what they had mistaken for dirt were actually freckles.<br/><br/>Patiently now she waited with clothes in hand, a pile of what seemed to be receipts pinned to them, for Lee to answer his summons.<br/>