Shouri: Konbanwa! I was feeling a little left out since Sai and Kei were writing stripclub fics... so I decided to do one too! The credit for the original idea to write a fic with the characters at or working in a stripclub, with us making cameos, belongs to Sai and Kei.
::grabs a little black cat as he runs past and hugs him as he struggles, mewing, to run off after what looks like some sort of sex-toy being dragged on a string::
Anway, warnings... this is a little hentai... er, okay, its a lot hentai... yaoi, yuri, het, you name it... threesomes and the like... but there's really not going to be anyexplicit sex, I don't think... there is stripping, erotic dancing, innuendos, poorly fitting clothes, and maybe a little kissing and light petting.
The main character, who the story follows around, is an OC.
It's a major crossover. ::steps on the sex-toy lure as it makes another appearance and drags past her, pinning it while the kitten squirms::
Oh, and in case anyone is confused, the characters who work in the club have working names with which they are identified when they are working with patrons. It's not really relevant yet, but it will be. For instance, I will give you my character as an example. Her real name is, of course, Shouri, but her working name is Lazuli. Therefore, if you see a character with a name that you've never heard of, but that isn't listed at the end as a cameo or an OC, then its an anime character with a working name.
Further, this means it is quite possible you will recognize the characters from their descriptions before their real names are given. In fact, I'm hoping you do, cause that means I did a good job describing them. To that end, please tell me if I get a detail of a description wrong. And if you like, we can play a game. Let's see who the first people will be to recognize a character and post their real name in a review.
If someone gets enough right answers, I'll let them pick a character, and I'll do my best to give them a really steamy dance number/scene!!!
And of course, the Disclaimer... I DON'T OWN ANYTHING!!!! None of the animes, nothing. I do own the idea for Diamond in the Rough, my stripclub. My OC and my cameo belong to me... the other cameo's belong to other people. Don't sue me. All you'll get is my medications... and believe me, without my stabilizers I'm rather scary. I don't sleep. Ever. Not a bit. I go until I collapse. I giggle at nothing. I talk nonstop. I complain ceaselessly. And I... am ... not... SANE!
So don't sue me. I like me when I'm sane. My friends like me when I'm sane. My family likes me when I'm sane.
You won't like me when I'm not. Beinginsane is okay... its even fun sometimes. But being Not-sane is a big no-no.So let me keep my darn pills.
Thanks! Now read the fic, and excuse me please! ::picks up sex-toy, still holding the little cat, and walks off towards where the string disappears::
Shouri: DUO! ::yells when out of sight, sounding really pissed and... er, not sane:: How many times have I told you not to bait my kitten with sex-toys! He may be named after one of your lovers, but you are not to include him in any of your perverted games, do you hear!!! ::lots of loud crashing and banging, and a ripping noise ensue::
Striptease
Chapter 1: Red-light District
It looked just like any of the other establishments lining the streets of the red-light district… just as dark and seedy as any other. The only thing that truly seems to set it apart is the sheer size of the building, a double storied place that looks like it must have once been warehouse, and that takes up more than half a block. The sign above the building front flashes with a hypnotic flicker, lighting the grubby, graffiti streaked bricks.
Still, there is something different about this particular club, besides for the obvious issue of size. Something… something felt more than seen. The flickering sign seems to flash too regularly, as if in a contrived pattern, fast and fluttery, then slowing to a steady rate. Almost like a heart racing to the pull of some erotic passion, and then sliding into contented satiation. The graffiti slashing the building front seems to clean and even… of course its still uncouth and lewdly suggestive, but it just seems to uniform… certainly not as if it were choreographed! No, it is simply that the colors all match so exactly. Not a single one is even the slightest shade off, and unlike the other establishments, none of the caricatures and dirty suggestions are more faded than others, or half-obscured by more recent works.
Even the bouncers lounging almost carelessly at the door seem somewhat more… refined… than the others lining the sidewalk in front of the bars to either side. Or perhaps it is just that they are obviously far more dangerous and far less bluff than the others. Both of the men are the prerequisite large and imposing, with rippling muscles, but that is pretty much where their similarities to the stereotypical bouncer end. At least visually. While the others stand like stone-carved lions guarding their respective doors in formfitting black, these two stand out vibrantly in unblemished white clothing, and they lounge with a relaxed air of comfort that the others lack. Even casually arranged against the wall, their muscles have a more formidable look or strength, and a more practical look, as if they were built from use and not from exercise.
The two are clad in tight white leather pants that creak as they shift, and their heavily muscled chest gleam with a healthy tan from between the edges of their loose jackets, which hang open in the front, and trail down to the backs of their knees. The leaner, slightly shorter one on the left is standing with his right hand tucked into the pocket on his pants, pushing back his jacket from one cocked hip as he casually draws deep drags of the cigarette held loosely in his left hand. A line of Chinese characters runs sloppily down the back of his jacket, and his brown hair is spiked. The spiky mess is pushed up away from his eyes for the most part with a dark red headband, except for a few errant strands that drape fringelike over the front.
The other, who is broader and more dignified, stands calmly against the door, head turned and hand raised to gently caress a small cream-colored stray cat perched on his shoulder. His dark brown hair is spiked as well, despite being much longer than the other's, and it to is confined by a headband, though his consists of a strip of pale tan cloth that crisscrosses supportively to keep his odd crown up straight.
Everything about them, from the tops of their spiky-haired heads, to the soles of their flat, Chinese style black slippers, screams of something out of place.
Closer up, the displacement is even more blatant as two pairs of sharp, observant eyes trail the passersby. The shorter man glares with a sharp dissuading gaze like a bird of prey focusing on its next meal. His companion glances disinterestedly at each new face with a sense of calm acceptance, before turning his attention once more to his cat. But his alert poise betrays his serene expression, and lets anyone with wit or senses know that his is dangerous as well, and not a man to tangle with. Maybe not as dangerous as his partner, and definitely not as volatile, but dangerous nonetheless.
Ishitsu cringes as those too-sharp eyes lock on him…
Almost timidly, he inches closer now, more curious than scared of being chased off. He can hear the strains of music faintly through the door. The flickering lights bathe his cocoa colored skin in fluorescent blue, turning it momentarily pale white. The taller bouncer straightens from the wall with a muffled grunt, sending his cat-friend leaping for the cover of the garbage cans in the nearby alley way.
"Gotta show us some ID, buddy…" the shorter one slurs with a heavy street accent, eyes narrowed in a strangely speculative look. Shivers run down his skin at the sultry, dangerous murmur. His fingers slide his wallet from his pocket almost without thought or hesitation as nervous shivers course through him. The taller man inspects his battered license with eyes gone suddenly, unforgivingly harsh. The second is circling him like a stalking tiger, eyeing the tight clubbing clothes he wears with an expert gaze as he searches for concealed weapons. Ishitsu cringes internally as he waits for the bouncers to send him away, declaring him too plain, or his shirt too frayed at the hem, or his unadorned face too dull for them to let him in… or they'll recognize his license as a fake. Just like all the other bars he has approached in desperation to get out of the winter cold… his thin and scuffed jean jacket is little protection at all from the biting winds.
"Legitimate." The taller man calls out suddenly, in a disinterested voice as he hands back the license. The shorter man hums. His eyes narrow momentarily.
"A'right. There's no fightin'. 'F ya start somethin' the fellas in the club'll toss ya righ' quick, got it? There ain't no drugs, and you doan play no games, 'less you pay fer one o' the rooms in back, and the ladies in charge okay ya. Jus' keep yer nose clean, an' I guarantee ya'll have the time o' yer life…" the bouncer drawls, his words growling around the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. At the last, he smiles a cocky, dangerous smirk as he steps aside with a flourish. The other bouncer grins somewhat more gently in a welcoming fashion, and Ishitsu has to struggle not to gape in shock. It looks like his luck's taken a change for the better. At least he'll be warmer for a while! He tries to hide a shiver as the tall bouncer bends to grasp the low doorknob.
"Welcome to Diamond in the Rough…"
Shouri ::cuddling her little black cat, who is purring happily and seemingly hugging a plushie Nataku, while chewing on the dragon-fang fist:: Well... did you like? Anyone have any ideas on the first two characters? If nobody posts by the time chapter two is up, I'll give you guys a hint. Thanks so much for reading! ::Heero and Wufei appear behind her, dragging a mass of duct tape and rope which greatly resembles a hog-tied Duo with Kenshin-Swirly-Eyes::
Please Review! Tankiwa! Ja ne!