The Four People You Meet In Heaven

The Empress (Avg NPCs: 20)
This club of ill repute holds none of the usual qualities that have come to be
associated with most of the other seedy establishments that are dotted through
the City of Angels. While it is, at essence, still a haven and showcase for
women who display their flesh for money, it is a glorified version of such.
The women here are succulent, sweet and as tempting as the fruit from the
gardens of sacred Eden. Those who work here are called, in tribute to the
heritage of their hometown, Angels. Never of virgin stock, they always appear
as such anyway, playing to the fantasies of those who haunt this most esteemed
establishment. Poles of pure silver are lined along the length of the east and
west walls, harboring maidens of driven snow, with each lit in the background by
a soft, white light, dimmed so as to not outshine the prizes that they
illuminate. Any person, male or female, can rent the bodies and confidence of
these Angels, if the price is right, though anyone seeking to do so should
ensure that their pocketbook is thick.

* Exits *
south - Intersection of Santa Monica and Vine

A well-dressed man occupies a stool at the end of the bar. He's wearing a steel grey Gucci suit, a black Kiton shirt with the top three buttons undone, a pair of black Prada dress shoes, a gold chain around his neck, and a pair of gold-rimmed black-lens sunglasses. He is currently leaning back with his elbows against the bar. A lit cigarette rests between his index and middle fingers on his right hand. Standing about 8 feet away from him is a very large italian man in a black Gucci suit, who has a bit of bruising on his forehead.

The door to the establishment opens, pushed ajar by a black dress-shoe. The leg connected to the foot swings the door further inward, allowing a handsome man to step over the threshold and into the dimmed club. He allows the door to swing closed behind him, black slacks on his legs and a white dress-shirt on his torso. The shirt is left open slightly, revealing a very small sliver of his chest, near the collarbones. A black necklace is loops around his throat, hanging down slightly to match his slacks and black leather jacket. His hair is spiked up and forward as usual, completing his statuesque appearance. His cheeks and chin are clean-shaven, and a slight blush touches his smooth skin.

From the back, just below and behind the main stage, strolls a svelte woman clad in attire taht at first would seem completely unsuited to her in this atmosphere. The patrons, used to seeing their Persephone in her flame-shaped pasties and matching g-string, hardly recognize the redhead in her yellow mini-dress. The top of it is loose and almost airy, while starting just below her waist it clings to her like a second skin. Bronzed skin smelling faintly of coconuts and pineapple is testament to the woman's most recent activity. Over her shoulder she carries a fashionable ombre purse, the color fading from dark crimson to a red that's almost white. Lavender eyes scan the room before falling upon her boss, and a smile tugs at the corners of her generous mouth.

Ceasar raises his hand to his mouth, taking a drag off his cigarette as he notices Elijah step through the door. As he exhales, he glances towards the large italian gentleman standing by the wall and tilts his head sideways in a gesture for him to "come hither". The gentleman takes a few steps over to Ceasar, leaning in as Ceasar whispers in his ear. The italian man nods once, looks over towards Elijah, and stands straight before walking in his direction. Ceasar glances at Elijah once more as he takes a drag off his cig. He exhales a plume of smoke just as he notices Madison make her way onto the floor. He smiles and leans back against the bar, gazing off in her general direction from behind his shades.

The handsome man smirks, noticing Ceasar's thug approaching him almost instantly. He simply walks over to the bar before the large man reaches him, muttering something to the bartender. Then he turns to face the tall figure, planting his feet a bit apart. His hands slide into the pockets of his slacks, arms pulling the folds of his black jacket apart a few inches. Before waiting for the goon to speak or do anything, Elijah leans to the side so he can see Ceasar and lifts a hand to his lips, kissing his fingers before laying them flat. He blows the kiss towards the well-dressed man and smirks, before leaning back on his feet to face the bodyguard. "What, come to give me a fruit basket?"

Sauntering up to the bar itself with her trademark gait, her hips rolling hypnotically from side to side as if she can never truly leave the dancing behind, Madison arches a single russet eyebrow at the scene. At first, she says nothing at all about it, or to Ceasar for that matter, instead leaning forward and placing her elbows neatly on the bar. "Mojito, please," she purrs to the woman pouring drinks before flashing a sidelong glance, and a wink, in Ceasar's direction, "Put it on my tab." Turning to the side, still with one elbow idly resting on the bar top, Maddie tips her head to one side while regarding the beefy fellow near Elijah. "Violence wouldn't be good publicity for this place, would it? We attract a lot of wealthy clientele and it would be shame for me to lose out on some generous tips because someone got testosterone poisoning."

The large italian man glares at Elijah for a moment, glancing at Madison briefly before returning his gaze to Elijah. He leans in and half-whispers to him in a deep, gruff voice, "The boss says you're welcome in his club, but says to tell you not to cause any trouble or that will change." Without waiting for Elijah's response, he turns and walks back to his previous position at the other end of the bar. He clasps his hands in front of him as he surveys the rest of the club. Ceasar takes a drag from his cig and turns around, glancing at Madison once before crushing out his cig in an ashtray on the bar. He gestures casually towards the bartender, giving him a quick nod as he says, "Put that mohito on -my- tab."

The door to the club swings upen slightly as the lithe and well dressed form of Sybil steps past the threshold, thanking whomever it was who held the door for her. She smooths out her dress after climbing the short height of the threshold, and moves casually towards the man checking ID at the door. Nodding to him, she gives a wry smile, and without a word, slides a small stack of bills to the man, and gestures to one of the empty VIP booths. The two exchange words for a moment, and she lingers there, ensuring her transaction is complete. She takes a moment to survey the crowd and ladies assembled as she waits, shifting her weight to her right leg and resting her hand on her hip. Her garb is high-fashion, and is likely worth more than the sum of its materials would ever be. She seems generally unimpressed with the goings on; her face bears sort of a neutral half smirk as she checks out the 'exotic dancers' here assembled.

The handsome man simply laughs at the goon, shakes his head and raising a hand to wave at Ceasar, his smirk suggesting that the threat is only a joke. Then he takes a seat at the bar and reaches forward for the rum and coke he had ordered, before glancing to the woman next to him, who happens to be Madison. "You have a wonderful job. I wish I could dance around in a g-string for five hours and make hundreds." He chuckles and raises the glass to his lips, taking a strong sip.

A gracious smile is reserved for Ceasar as Madison lets her eyes sweep over him. "That's kind of you, but couldn't it be seen as promoting drunkenness among your employees?" she asks with a note of laughter clinging to her words. "I'm joking. You can promote it all you want, whether I'm on the clock or not." Bending a knee, Madison rests the toe of her gold, strappy heels against the floor while waiting for her drink. "Dear," she addresses Elijah smoothly, obviously nonplussed by his words, "I think you'd be a wonderful addition to the angels team. The money is fabulous, of that there's no doubt. Just watch out backstage, the claws are hard to avoid."

Ceasar chuckles lightly at Madison's comment, before responding in a jovial tone, "I'd rather have you ladies drunk and happy than sober and stressed." He extends his arm, revealing a gold, diamond-faced Rolex, which he glances at briefly before reaching into his inside suit pocket and pulling out a cell phone. He dials a number into the phone, surveying the club nonchalantly as he holds the phone to his ear. As he survey's the Club, he notices Sybil enter the club, and waves one of the doormen over.

The handsome man chuckles through his nose, the sound almost inaudible over the soft music playing in the sensual club. He raises the drink and takes a quick gulp, his face completely unaffected by the sharp tang of alcohol within, attractive features as smooth and fixed as ever. He turns his head and raises a black eyebrow towards Madison, asking in a casual voice, "So, I see you've escaped that terribly ugly Hotel." He turns his head as soon as the statement leaves his lips, taking a sip and watching Ceasar out of the corner of his eye, a slight look of distaste curling his lips at the sight of the man's flashy watch.

Sybil gives a curt nod to the man she was dealing with, and moves towards one of the booths slowly, following just behind the other man as he moves towards Ceasar and regarding that man with a raised eyebrow. She moves over to her booth, and sets down a small purse a hue of light blue. She scans over the crowd for just a moment, before returning her eyes in a rather unashamed fashion towards Ceasar, giving him a warm smile as she does. She eventually removes her gaze, reclining lazily back in her seat.

As the mojito is served, Madison wraps her fingers around the invitingly cool glass and nods vaguely at Elijah's comment. "I'm certain when the foliage isn't out of control it's a lovely place to be. It proved to be sturdy enough…" her voice trails off as her violet eyes grow distant for a few erratic beats of her heart. Pushing away from the bar itself while drinking liberally of the minty beverage, the ginger can't help but to toss a curious glance in Sybil's direction. "Well now," she murmurs to no one in particular, "It's not everyday you see a woman in here as a patron."

Ceasar begins speaking into the phone at his ear as the doorman approaches, "Yeah, Arty, I need some tree's replanted on the south side…Compton.." The doorman gets to him and he holds up a finger, gesturing for him to wait a moment as he continues speaking into the cell, "Yeah, get in touch with B, he'll give you an addess. Oh, and send that white girl my way." He nods, still holding his finger up to the door guy, before continuing, "Yeah, the usual. Yeah, I'll get you my new number tomorrow." He snaps the phone shut and sticks it in his inside pocket before turning to speak with the doorman. He whispers something into his ear before turning back towards the bar. He leans in, leaning his elbows against the bar as he glances in Madison's direction and begins speaking with a friendly smile on his face, "Yeah, well, any club can always use more good looking women." The doorman walks around the bar, retriving a bottle of champaign, an ice bucket, and a glass before heading in Sybil's direction.

Elijah leaves the rum and coke to collect condensation between his hands, fingers tapping lightly on the wooden bartop. He glances at Madison and smirks, saying, "Your boss is agressive." As his silver-green eyes slide towards Ceasar, the man's teeth nibble softly at his bottom lip, as if contemplating something as he looks the italian over.

Sybil smirks slightly as the door man approaches her table, and lets him finish his task of bringing the bottle in ice to the table, and then thanks him with a mischievous grin on her face. As he turns to go back to the door, she lets him get a short distance before standing almost abruptly, and moves languidly but confidently towards the bar. She stands just to the side of Ceasar, but seems to ignore him, trying to catch Madison's gaze while giving a brief smile to her. She says absently to the side, "I do not drink, but thank you. I'll treat anyone who is brave enough to come towards the table maybe." She looks over Madison with an appraising eye, and says to her "The last time you saw this woman in here, you put on quite a show. I know I liked it at least, and I seem to remember…the entire crowd howling their approval as well. Remember?" She looks to the side at Ceasar, smiling invitingly, then returns her gaze to the dancer.

"Most businessmen are, at least the successful ones. It's part of their charm," the dancer intones with a smirk writ across her lips before letting her attention be drawn to Sybil. With her second drink of the mojito, she manages to finish it, all while peering curiously at the other woman from over the edge of the glass. Setting the glass on the counter with a faint 'tink', Maddie inclines her chin while a chuckle bubbles up in her throat. "Ah, it seems so long ago, but I do remember. I'm usually pretty good about recalling faces, especially those belonging to female guests. I'm flattered you remember it so vividly, though I must admit I'm not in such good a shape as I was due to all the goings on."

Ceasar reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He shakes the pack as his other hand slides into his pocket to retrieve a lighter. A single cigarette slides halfway out of the pack, which he fully removes from the pack by clinching it between his teeth. He flips open his lighter and flicks it once, causing it to glow with an orange flame. He lights his cig, taking a deep drag as he flips the lighter shut and puts both the pack and his lighter into his pocket. He glances down the bar between Elijah, Sybil, and Madison. Smoke trails out of his nostrils as he hushedly intones, "You three interested in having a little…private party?"

The handsome man nods once to Madison, as if that fact is well-understood. He drains the rest of his rum and coke, leaving the ice cubes clinking in the bottom of the glass, and turns his head towards Ceasar with a smirk. "What'd you have in mind? If it involves silenced pistols, you can count me out signore." Elijah rolls the n on the foreign word, though it's unclear of whether or not he's mocking the italian club owner.

Sybil smiles broadly as Madison speaks, and hangs on each word as if they were all she knew in this world for the moment. "You still look fine to me, love." She leans down a bit, covering Madison's ear with her hand as she whispers "But when you're feeling better, I'll be looking you up for that private show I mentioned…" She leans back and resumes her stance, reclining her weight on one leg as she stands there, and licks her lips for a moment just before Ceasar speaks. She narrows her eyes as the smoke comes from his mouth and he has finished speaking, almost as if she were about to throttle him, but then resumes a warm, friendly smile. She tosses her head slightly, and with a wave of her hand moves all of her honey-blonde hair over one shoulder as she regards Ceasar. "A gay man…the owner… the best dancer here, and yet another reason for men to leave their wallets at the door…an odd party that might be." she states flatly, giving a wry grin.

A perfectly self-satisfied grin floods Madison's expression as she leans down a bit to hear the shorter woman's voice more clearly in her ear. Reaching her hand into her patent leather purse, she pulls out a Sharpie and, using her free hand, gently wraps her slender fingers around Sybil's wrist. An eyebrow lifts at the blonde as if silently asking a question, but no response is waited upon before Madison scrawls out a telephone number on the woman's forearm. "The number's changed, but the rates have stayed the same. I'll be out of town for some days. A friend needs me, and I really need out of this city." Her thumb rubs teasingly over Sybil's wrist before she lets it go with a faint peel of laughter. "I'm sorry, bossman, but I have lots of packing to do and some people to talk to before I leave. I swear, I'll make it up to you when I get back with extra shows a night," she nearly pleads, her lower lip jutting out into a pretty pout.

Ceasar smiles towards Elijah with a cig hanging off his lip, responding with a simple, "Come find out." He then raises an eyebrow towards Madison as he pulls his cigarette from his lips, "You don't have a few minutes to powder your nose before you take off?" Ceasar winks at Madison before turning and walking over to the large italian man standing by the wall. He whispers casually as he passes by, "Turn off the camera in champaign room 5." He continues walking confidently past the man, gesturing behind him for those interested to follow. The large italian man leans back behind the bar, flipping a switch before turning around to follow Ceasar.

The handsome man smirks at Ceasar before shaking his head and glancing at the italian man. Then he looks Ceasar directly in the eyes, saying, "I'll pass. Go enjoy your blow." A note of condescension entering his voice as he stands and moves towards the door. His silver-green eyes slip over the massive italian man, though he simply offers the man who had punched him a cheery, poisonous smile.

Sybil stares blankly off at something in the distance as the others seem to respond, and then watches Elijah move towards the door. She shrugs slightly, and looks over Madison with greedy eyes, biting her lip at their interactions thus far. "My nose is just perfect, but I'll take any chance I can get with this one…" She looks between Madison and Ceasar as he moves towards the back. "…especially with the cameras off." Another mischievous grin crosses her features, and she extends her arm to take Madison's hand, gesturing to where the owner has made his way with the other arm. Her nose wrinkles up a bit as she explains, "Same reason I don't like to drink." giving an assuring nod afterwards.

The unmistakable look of true longing taints Madison's expression as her curvaceous body shivers in the slightest, though she's quick to school her expression back into a more pleasant facade. "The offer is… tempting to say the least, but…" she shakes her head as her voice drifts away, pulling her intense gaze away from Ceasar's back to Sybil. "What's life without a few vices to spice things up? Pick and choose, there are plenty out there willing to offer a good time," she manages a soft sort of smile before pulling herself up to her full height, plus some due to the heels, and begins sauntering towards the front doors. She does cast a last glance over her shoulder, towards Ceasar and that which he offered, but she steels herself amazingly enough and pushes out the door.

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