Havoc's Spot: Bar, taven, and strip club to the stars-- according to the marquis. This is a decent enough place with clean standards, good food, and hot bodies writhing for whatever your pleasure. Two floors and two basements of suds and skin, all operated by the enigmatic Havoc.

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Okarthel
Havoc's I

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After a nice drink and few minutes to relax at Anna Kalina's estate elsewhere in Okarthel, Yin steps out of Alou's truck outside the bar, reaching up to carefully or lift Menayen down. "Kaz? Dear? You okay to stand?"

"I hate boats," he answers.

"We'd better go in the back," Alou laughs. "You okay to do this, Yin?"

"Yeah. It'll be nice to get it out of the way, anyway." She smirks. "I just hope to god no one I know is here." Goes with picking Kaz up over her shoulder--hey, vampire-dragon, she's stronger than she looks--and heading inside.

Alou follows along, smiling. Of course he won't go in while she's dancing. Actually... just as they enter havoc's office, he stops her.

"Yin. If you want me to stay out of the room while you do this, I will."

She smiles a bit, eyes softening. "Thanks, Alou. Do whatever you like. I trust you either way."

He smiles back. yeah, that means stay out. "I'll see you when it's over, then. Break someone's leg." Grins. "Gimme the midget, and I'll take him to the back where he can rest."

Yin hands him over carefully. "Good plan. Poor thing needs a vacation more than either of us, I think. Anyway...talk to you soon, then." Affords a last smile--she does appreciate how Alou doesn't treat her like a pretty novelty--and wanders out in search of Havoc.

Havoc is, of course, in his office. Stamping papers.

"Heya, um, Yin. Right?' Havoc looks up at her. He's grown a bit since before, and is now chicken-sized.

"Yep." She sets a hand on a hip. "I seem to recall owing you a favor."

"Do you want to do it?" If he could smile, he would. "Cause I won't make you. I just wanted you to think you were giving up something for the help."

Yin smirks. She kind of thought as much. "Want to dance? Not particularly. Want to hold up my end of what was a deal, anyway? Sure."

"Well. If you want to, go talk to Brunito in the sound booth." Havoc taps a foot. "If not, hang out for a while. Watch some guys dance downstairs."

Yin grins. "Cater to both sexes, huh? Yay you. I'll go grab Brunito again, then. Thanks again for the hovercraft." And turns to head that way. Really, she couldn't have less interest in what's going on downstairs...which isn't like her between missions. But she has a superhot wyvern...well, quite possibly not waiting for her, not after freaking him the hell out over the phone, declaring her love after knowing him about a month following what was supposed to be just a hot affair. But regardless of whether he returns it, she only has eyes for Revilier right now.

The sound booth is easy to find, with signs clearly labelling which way everything is. It turns out that Brunito, who is actually a very butch Spider female, actually works in a DJ booth beside the stage. The main room is dark and warm, with a soothing, sensual pink glow just barely tinting the lights from the stage. It's a pretty nice dining experience on one side - food isn't allowed near the stage as tabledances used to cause too much spilling - and a respectable, clean floor area for viewing, too. It's got a number of bench-style tables and booths, along with anchored folding chairs for up-close dances. There's no smoke, as it's a smoke-free facility. 

At the moment, a darkly tanned brunette occupies the stage, writhing and swinging and doing all the basic naughty movements one would expect from a mid-card act who already danced once upstairs.

"What can I do for you," asks Brunito, her head bobbing to the 80's hair metal she has playing for this dancer.

Yin smiles at the probably-lesbian spider, leaning on the side of the low-walled booth. "I owe Havoc a pole dance for a favor, and need to pay up."

Brunito gives her a look up and down. In reality, Brunito is married to the enormous, but very nice, bouncer standing at stage right. The old adage about couples eventually starting to look alike is apparently true.

"Do you have any dance experience? It can get pretty rough out there, and if you slip and fall or something you'll get booed and hissed out of the building, so I gotta ask."

"I should be okay. I've only done this kind of thing twice, but a mix of other qualifications assure me I'll be fine." Yin smiles. About fifteen years of ballet as a kid, her fight styles, her music, and her short-lived softcore porn star gig mix pretty well into "exotic dancer." A vampire's natural seduction and the fact that it's hard to boo a body like this help, too.

"Do you have your own outfit? Music preference?" Brunito tilts her head over. "One second." She clears her throat, and leans toward the microphone as the music winds down and the smiling, bare-assed dancer blows kisses to the audience and collects the last of her offered singles.

"Lovely Lenina, everyone, breathing steam down every one of your throats," Brunito purrs over the loudspeaker. "Don't forget to grab a bucket of longnecks for our next act, on the main stage. Drink up boys," this as she puts on a very heavy-rhythmed metal song, "or Flare might just burn you to the ground." Sits back as a gorgeous, red-haired fire dragon takes the stage, owing a great deal of her beauty to plastic surgery. "So," She says to Yin, "outfit, music?"

"Outfit, no. Music preference yes, but let's see what there is in the way of outfits first."

"Okay. Havoc can take over on the mic if he'll get his bulbous ass out here." She presses the call button on the booth - it's really quite advanced - and explains the situation before rising from her chair and leading Yin down a guarded hallway, protected by a really nasty looking thug, and into a communal dressing room where most of the women are sitting about in robes, reading or talking on cell phones, or playing crosswords with each other. It's an amazingly innocuous scene.

"Hiya Bruno," one of the girls calls, and the spider rolls her eyes.

"They all think I'm a lesbian," she admits to Yin as she pulls open a cabinet full of various fantasy outfits. The basics - schoolgirl, schoolteacher, nurse, biker, cop, and then some more elaborate dancing dresses from around the world-- with tear away buttons and seams.

Yin's eyes actually settle on a mostly white, geisha-inspired outfit that starts out very graceful and modest though flattery...though it finishes quite a bit differently. "Let's go with this one. What songs can you think of that start delicate and shift to hard as hell somewhere in the middle?" Takes this one off the rack.

Bruno looks at the outfit. Looks at Yin. "We've got a few that'll work. Usually we just go with 'china girl' with that dress, but I have something else that ought to work for it. It starts out with a koto and taiko drum, picks up a pretty standard 4/4 rock beat with heavy guitars and a string section. Rhythmic, good for jerky dancing. Did you bring your own g-string, or do we provide that?"

"Er..." Oo. Awkward question. "They're clean, I hope...?"

Bruno looks at her as though Yin's just farted in church and proudly proclaimed such to the priest with a whoop and a shout of 'score!'.

"Is your pussy?" she quietly asks. "If not, then the string is moot."

The dragoon actually reddens at this. Really personal question, though one to be expected. "Trimmed. Enough to not stick from under a string, but still need one."

"well of course you need one," Bruno smirks, "I just wondered if I needed to whip out some shears. What else would they stick dollars down if you didn't wear a string?" She opens a drawer at the bottom, filled with undergarments folded neatly in many colors and styles, mostly lacey or shiny.

White and lacey it is. Yin smiles a bit, looks around to see where everyone's changing. Right here. Of course. "Thanks, Bruno." Gets to it, then.

"I gotta go announce. You'll go on next, if you think you can handle it?" Brunito folds her arms over her smallish breasts. "Can you?"

"Will there be any sniper rifles and trying to shoot me involved?"

"Not with bullets."

Yin snickers. "Fair enough. I'll be fine." She finishes pinning her hair back into a very oriental bun.

"Okay. What's your name? Or stage name. Something you can listen for so you know when to go out there."

"Kisha." Her porn name.

"God," Bruno retches. "Your last name wasn't Ass or Titty, was it?" It's an ugly business.

"It's Slavic. It means 'rainfall.'" Slips in a chopstick.

"If you say so," Bruno mutters, and skitters back towards the booth, leaving Yin to get herself dressed.

When she gets out to the booth, Havoc is bouncing back and forth at the controls, while Menayen occasionally hoots into the microphone. They're having a blast.

"Git!"

"Nupe!"

"Okay, stay."

"Roger!"

It's a few minutes. Flare, apparently, is a giver, and grinds on that pole long enough that everyone seems to be satisfied. Brunito notes the left most booth, filled as usual with the pretty men and woman who seem to show up every week to be not terribly interested in the dancers.

"Alright, you sons of bitches," Brunito growls into the mic, "get ready to go from the blazing hot to the freezing hot. Give her a warm reception for her first time at Havoc's. This," dramatic pause, "is Kisha!" Good God.

"Good god" is very much what's going through Yin's head at the moment, too. But she'll play. Wears a demure schoolgirl smile as she enters the stage. The music starts traditional...so does her dance. God knows where she learned traditional Chinese dancing, but grace and dignity are the rule to start. Anticipation is such a powerful things. Smiles just a little as she reaches the pole, following the music, always following the music.

The speakers quiet. Yin gazes a scared-girl gaze at the audience a moment as though unsure what to do, leaning on the pole more for support than anything. Reaches for a chopstick.

The guitars and bass hit hard just as a spray of glacier-white hair is flung loose.

When she hesitates, the crowd, which is already rowdy after Flare's high-energy o-face dancing and a little put off by the 'real' dancing, begins to get hostile. There's some booing, which does quiet when she loosens her hair.

In the corner, the party of three seems far more interested in what they're seeing than the other patrons. The man in the middle whispers into the dark-skinned man's ear, sending him scurrying towards the stage with a handful of twenties. he sits, and waits.

After the many stresses of recent life, Yin isn't exactly worried about boos from a crowd of horndogs...but she does know how to better get their attention. Nothing says sensuality like mixing a touch of hardness and danger into a beautiful form. All the more contrast with the shy-girl start.

The obi snaps off and falls away easily, of course. She clings to the robe a few moments more as though timid. When she finally gets a frustrated urging from a man nearby a few seconds later, a small smile snakes across her face. The short kimono is flung away not by hand, but by a suddenly-appeared katana of pure ice. The music's hard now. The dance loses all timidity, melding into a conglomorate of grace, instinctive vampiric seduction, the danger of a whirling blades...and a fair amount of flexibility doesn't hurt. She can touch her forehead with her foot.

The crowd is much more receptive now that she's moving, and most are quite impressed with her fluid gyrations and unusual look and style.

"Dammit," Menayen sighs, "I'm hallucinating now." Pauses. "Oh well. Beats paying for it." And he sits and watches, purring quietly.

By now, a number of the men have hopped up to offer their waving bills to Yin.

These she takes, never fully breaking a rhythm. She's happy she hasn't had to resort to pole-humping. She does have some sense of class...well. Thinks the girl in a lacy g-string. At least her debt will be paid off.

Every tipper is met with varying degrees and shades of a coy or seductive smile. One attractive one she favors with a bit more favor, a saucier smile, fingers brushing individually on the bottom of his chin. When he gets too comfortable, an impish, hard-to-get grin traces across her lips, baring fangs. He's shoved back quickly--though not hard or enough to make him stumble much--with a sandaled foot to the chest. Oh yeah. She's playing the tough vixen now. A minute or so left, she thinks.

The dark-skinned fellow glances back to his companions, idly petting one another in the darkness of the booth. A quick nod from the man tells him to do the same as the others, but unlike the fairly cheap gentleman here fleeing their wives or what-not, the dark-skinned fellow actually beckons to Yin, holding up an impressive spread of cash.

She had resumed her dance for a few moments--can't neglect the rest of the people trying to watch--adoring apparently being able to make using a sword very sensual. Though she knows that flexibility is likely still a higher priority for her audience. Were she wearing more clothes, she'd be having a tremendous time with the teasing.

The dark skinned fellow gets her attention after a few moments. ...huh. He's hot as hell. Unnaturally so. She gets a weird vibe from him...still...it's really, really a pity she's so lost over Revilier right now. She moves his way. Her facade is still nothing but seductive...but something hidden beneath the first layer of her eyes' mask is intensely evaluating, something between curious and an instinctive leariness.

Rhoul gazes into those eyes, searching them with almost the same expression at Yin's. He doesn't need to look back to his master to ensure that this is the sort of subject fitting perfectly into the mold of the world they all want to see. Her obvious personal strength gives her a quiet, sensual dignity to complement her beautiful dancing and amateur stripping. She's new at this, but has a flair for seduction to go along with her mastery of a fantastic, cut from steel body.

When Yin is close enough, Rhoul holds up a fan of cash that would be like a lottery winning payout for a daily dancer. He smiles at her as only an incubus can, purses his lips, and blows softly on the cash to send barely perceptible wisps of powder smoke towards her. A pheremone essence, the kind all of Rhoul's tipping money is coated with.

She actually lurches back just a touch at this. At first she'd thought it was a blown kiss, but instantly spots the faint trails of dust. Sneezes softly. ...Damn. Whatever that was, it will have affected her now. Making a scene isn't the kind of thing she does, especially not in Okarthel. She just hopes that if it leads to real trouble, Alou or Kaz--but probably Alou--will spot it in time to help.

As it is...she smiles after a few moments, though her expression manages "seductive stripper" and "damn, you win" at the same time, brushing the backs of his fingers lightly as she goes to take the money, just as she would have with anyone else. It isn't tucked against her skin, though. It's slipped atop other money. She steps back. Just about done, she can hear it in the music.

Rhoul blows her a real kiss after she steps back, and, smirking deviously, returns to this partners to watch the last of her dance.

"Sit the hell down you bastards," Brunito's voice booms over the microphone as the song ends, "unless you're going to the bar to buy more booze to put out that fire Kisha started in your pants." This, of course, is Yin's cue to take her bows and go. 

Menayen just smiles a bit. Hops off his stool and heads back towards the changing room with Havoc, to await Yin.

The katana's tip had thrown the untorn outfit back up towards her and slipped around her shoulders in a movementment that...well, could be deft with a few times more practice. It's not bad anyway. Yin takes a very eastern bow to the audience from a knee just as the music ends, again with traditional drums, and then takes her leave.

Ugh...she feels...odd. Or rather, feels everything. Even the cool stage floor and then the carpet beneath her feet feel wonderful. It startles her a bit.

Get it together, Yin. Time to face the real music now

Male companions. Face warms at the thought.

"Hey, it really was you out there!" Menayen snickers, just about the time Havoc expertly smacks him from his perch on the wall.

Alou, who has been out of the way the whole time, approaches Yin with a warm smile. "Hey, you." Lays a hand on her shoulder. "How was it?"

Yin smirks at Menayen. Starts to smile at Alou...though the hand on her shoulder startles her, sends the kind of jolt of pleasure racing through her she'd expect from a lover. Fuck. What WAS that stuff? Does manage the smile, though, hiding discomfiture after a second. "Well, no pole-humping, so I think I would have managed to keep my dignity intact had I been wearing more." Grins. "If I'd been wearing more than a dime's worth of material, it would have been fun."

"Now I'm sad I missed it," the spider laughs. He caught the discomfort, assuming it was related to being exposed out there, and pulls back his hand. "Why don't you get dressed? I arranged for some airfare while you were out there. We'll hit a diner and chat the night away, have a nap at the hotel without being afraid we're about to be shot for once, and head to Pakistan tomorrow morning." He's proud of himself, actually, for staying back. Yin's his friend, but the memory of Tuleau has at last begun to fade in the last few weeks. Yin is starting to look entirely too good to him.

Yin's face genuinely brightens and softens at the thought of a truly relaxing evening, and she nods. "Absolutely. Dinner's on me, though." She snickers. "Erm...literally tucked on me, I think, several times over. I want to unload whatever portion of this stuff is mine and avert jokes about my stripper money as soon as possible." Smirks.

Alou's smile grows even more genuine when Yin's does. She's beautiful, she really is. And a good friend.

"Speaking of which," the Spy-der quite suddenly begins, as if a light bulb just went off in his head, "have you fed lately, Yin?"

"Not really," she admits, finishing fastening the obi of her whorish kimono for the time being. "I have some in storage at home, though, if we can swing by. It's probably a good idea to pick up a couple of flasks for good measure, anyway."

"We can do that. I'll go bring the truck around. If you want to wear that, I'm sure we'll get some discounts." Alou grins a little bit more, and heads back down the hall.

"I'll stay here, I think," Menayen nods, "and get some rest. Right Havoc?"

"Like you'll be here resting," Havoc hiss clicks. "But yeah."

"Remember, Menayen dear, kitty eyes and twitchy ears earn strippers petting," Yin reminds.

"Got it." And he proceeds to give Yin the most heartbreaking kitty eyes in history.

The vampiress has to laugh softly, patting his head. "It also earns later sneaky pranks from spy sorts." God his hair feels good on her hand. It's the same sort of thing she'd experienced when the spider had touched her shoulder. She turns quickly to head further into the dressing room, a touch out of sorts. "See you later, then." Street clothes. Need street clothes.

"Kay!" Menayen ambles happily off, leaving Havoc to make sure Yin gets her affairs in order.

"You can keep the underwear. Alou did. Called it a war trophy." Havoc, of course, is a genuine spider and totally uninterested in girly parts. The other girls are used to him, too. "Are you okay? You're acting nervous."

"I'm okay. I don't know, just off this evening I guess." Smiles a bit, and after some observation of the others around, procedes to get changed. "Residual stress, probably."

"I've known a lot of people under bad stress. hell, I'm the owner of a strip club. Some of these girls, they got it bad in real life. I do what I can for 'em, but sometimes they just need to find a release." Havoc crawls onto the ceiling, where there's less chance of being stepped on. "Anyway. If you need something, you can call me. I won't ask you to dance again. Course you can, if you ever feel the need."

Yin smiles a bit at him. "Thanks, Havoc. Appreciate it, really." Her pants startle her when they slip on, with the hard rubbing and eventual jerk against her crotch. Fucking...a! "I'll likely see you around, then. Thanks again for the help. See you later." And she heads in the direction Alou had gone without further word. The dark-skinned fellow is still burned into her thoughts. His eyes. Those are what she can't place. Those had not been a dragon's eyes...something akin to them, but something very different. She can't peg it, and that bothers her.

Alou's waiting outside, and opens the door for her. "Hey you. Ready to go home?" Something's bothering Yin. Alou isn't sure that it's guilt from dancing, either-- Yin is a drop-dead sexy woman, and has proven often that she isn't afraid to flaunt her body. He can't peg it, and that bothers him, too.

Yin smiles a bit, and steps into the truck...ignoring as best she can the sensation of the seat sliding beneath her. "Yeah. It'll be nice, after all this time."

Alou hops into the other side. "Seat belts." Puts the truck in gear, and puts it on the road to Yin's House. He's pretty quiet on the way, but doesn't say too much. It's just nice to be with his friend in a safe capacity for once.