Log:Amateur Strip Night - 2

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Amateur Strip Night - 2

Poppy, Haruki, Count, Vinnie, Lux, Lolly, Charlotte

6 April, 2018

The Plank holds a second amateur strip night!


The Plank

While the girls have been busy for the past five hours, the last of the scheduled pre-event professionals is slinking and strutting her way through a rump-jiggling, bass-pounding rendition of .. well, it isn't entirely clear WHAT it is supposed to be, beyond the fact that it has a whole lot of booty and a toe-tapping, hip-grinding beat. Cinnamon is a particularly well-endowed and curvy woman with skin, appropriately enough, of a cinnamon-cream shade, her ethnicity at least partially derived from the Indian subcontinent. She also looks like she's having a good time making vertical love to that pole.

Who isn't having a good time? Lolly!

'Captain' Lolly is over at the bar to await the beginning of the event, and she appears to be deep in an uncomfortable disagreement with the one-eyed, peg-legged, lanky, greasy-haired, snaggle-rotten-toothed bartender. He has a grungy nametag with a messily scrawled 'SAM' written on it.

Flitting about the room is Charlotte, one of the few things diferentiating her from the strippers, is the fact that she's mostly dressed, and that she's delivering drinks to the various tables rather than keeping a lap warm, or similar. She is just finishing delivering drinks from her tray, getting slap to her ass in the process as she starts making her way back in the direction of the bar.

Paying her cover but declining to sign up for the 'booty shaking' event, Lux enters the establishment. She shakes her head once, then reaches down to her elbows and pulls tight the long gloves that ride around her arms. She surpreses a shiver, even as she moves through the darkened area. Funny how she stands out, to those mortal eyes - she almost seems to glow to them.

Of course, to those who -can- see, that glow spreads about her feet like a pool of liquid light, with a light filled mist rising from it to tangle about Lux's arms and shoulders. She isn't bothering to hide it, and it bleeds slightly into the Real World.

With a final glance around the room, she shakes her head once then heads for one of the secluded tables along the wall, waving down a waitress as she goes.

Vinnie brings her own drink, shamelessly, brought in from whatever convenience store she stopped at on her way over: 64 ounces of frozen, sugary overload in a few different shades, as if she'd given every lever of the slushy machine a good long pull. Who knows what frankenstein flavor she's ended up with. She arrives rather comfortably alone in her jeans, tee shirt--declaring I Enjoy Vagina across the front--and way too yellow hoodie... and way too orange hair... and makes her way over toward the stage to find a nice empty chair to plunk her skinny ass down into before flagging a server, those pretty blue eyes turned to watch Charlotte's ass n her way back to the bar.

Haruki's dressed like a pirate today, all swashbuckly goodness, the outfit tailor-made to fit his figure. He's even got on a tricorne. And he has on boots that add a few inches to his height. He catches the guy who slaps Charlotte on the ass, and glares at him. "You shouldn't do that." Not that Haruki's at all intimidating. "You ever been stabbed by a six inch stilleto heel? They're called stilettos for a reason, like the dagger. All these girls, knives on their feet, and they're up there, and you're done here. When I was in Vegas saw one slip off the stage once, from being slapped, and her foot when right through... well let's just say there was a lot of blood, and he was never able to rise to the occassion again. Don't be a dick if you want to keep yours."

As far as strip clubs go, it's hard to beat it's location, at least for Count, who strolls from Dirty laundry which is located at the mercy Plaza, which just happens to be directly across the street. I mean he even has a special 'Glitter goes here.' washing machine just for the employees of this establishment.

So tonight, for whatever reason, perhaps the opportunity to oogle amateurs, Count has arrived. Hius arrival consiusts of himself, and of course, his clothes, which are, yes, you guessed it, black. Torn jeans, heavy motorcycle boots, and a T shirt with only the white words reading SUBMIT across the front.

The Horned Beast of Winter slips inside, eyes adjusting as he moves deeper, and at first he starts to take steps towards the bar, and then remembering what horrors are offered to drink here, thinks better of it, and detours.

This is when he spots someone he recognizes, and cracks the faintest of smiles towards Vinnie, and starts making his way in that particular direction.

Note: The closest liquor store is Twixt Liquor, locatreed in Mercy Plaza, directly across the street. This is not subtle advertising.

Lolly pauses in her argument with Sam when Lux steps into the room, just .. yeah. Staring. Also shrinking back against the bar and paling, green eyes saucer-wide. Thankfully, the sight of Charlotte in peripheral vision catches her eye, and she scrapes up a somewhat uneasy smile for her newest waitress-cum-dancer. Given the angle, Vinnie's oh-my-gosh-I-may-go-blind bright colours are the next to catch her eye, as well as the eye of the dancer on stage, who saunters right on down the 'plank' which extends out into the 'ocean' of floor tables to give that way-too-orange haired beauty a good booty-bounce and over-the-shoulder wink all of her own.

Charlotte doesn't seem to have noticed Haruki's intervention behind her, and when she comes up to the bar she sets her tray down for the bartender to load it up, hands over the cash she collected previously for the drinks she's served, and cocks her hips in such a way to put her backside on display for a few moments, "Grog and Coke, or, uh, whatever, for table 7." She says to Sam, before she collects her tray and is off to make deliveries, stopping by the table Lux has claimed before long, "What can I get ya?" she asks, flashing a quick smile at the odd woman.

Vinnie doesn't notice Count until he's already making his approach. Maybe because she was way busy laughing at the threats Haruki has leveled at Generic Creep #37. When she catches that vision in black making his way toward her chosen viewing spot, a wide grin spreads across lips. There's a flick of a look down at his tee shirt then a pointed arch of her dark brows when her gaze lifts to meet his again. Kinda looks like a challenge. Moving her drink aside, she pats her lap and calls, "My first lap dance of the night." She even gives her hips an excited little shimmy while she makes a kinda skeevy face at him.

With a soft smile of her ruby lips, Lux passes money across the table. "A glass of your best red." she says with the certainty of knowing it will be more vinegar than wine, and leave a heavy cloying taste in her mouth. "And if you have any snack mix, I'll take a bowl." The tone of her voice seems to say she understands there may be mold found within it, should she be uncareful in this dim light with what she puts in her mouth. There is more than enough for her request, plus a generous tip. She pays in advance.

Of course, the smokey light that mortals cannot see rises about her in flat layers, a distinct halo that seems to leave a dingy filter for those that look through it to Lux. Perhaps she does not wish the air about this place to actually touch her.

Having said his piece Haruki looks around for anyone he recognises, and in this dim gloominess he rather fails to spot anyone to sit with. So instead he looks for a spot by himself. He's brought plenty of cash for tipping with, even if he's not so fond of sticking it in g-strings and cleavage.

Even thought he seems to be stalking towards Vinnie and the place she has settled, his attention is this ever moving thing, drifting over the patrons, the stripper, earning a nod of acknowledgement towards both Lolly and Haruki, and others that has, for just a moment, his pace slowing. Then, various presences noted, he turns his almost predatory attention towards Vinnie, if you could call that faintly smarmy bastards grin, predatory. "Well well, if it isnt the traffic cone that got turned into a real girl, how th' fuck are you?"

And, rather than find his own seat, he does indeed take the lap offered by Vinnie, slipping into that offered seat like a dishveled prince into a throne, tilting his head back to kiss the air near her cheek, and then, steal her drink for a sip. "You shoulda been here last time, I was on stage."

"Alright. Red and snacks." Charlotte says with a nod, jotting something down on her pad before she starts to once more flit around the room, stopping next by Vinnie's chosen table, "Can I get you blokes anything to drink?" she asks, cracking a little grin flashed at the lap buddies.

At last, Cinnamon's dance comes to a close, and with a flirtatious dip at the waist to accept the grubby one-dollar bills a very 'happy' older man inserts into her cleavage, she saunters her way back toward the 'ship' -- a.k.a. the back of the stage -- with one last rump-wiggle for the audience before slipping through the gaudily painted curtain.

A moment later, the lights flicker, and Lolly straightens her pirate hat, getting up from her seat at the bar to walk along the left wall and up the stairs to the side of the stage nearest the employee area, the sweet-sharp scent of lilies of the valley left in her wake. She picks up a wireless microphone as she climbs, thumbing the switch on and lifting it to give the room a fresh-faced smile, shy and pleased at once. "Thank you so much for coming to our second amateur night!"

There's a small smattering of applause from some of the drunker regulars, and the same old coot who stuffed the bills into Cinnamon's cleavage hoots a blurry, "Gimme some TITS!" and chortles so hard he almost falls out of his chair.

Lolly, blushing, smiles down at the drunk, then looks back out over the room. "Anyone interested in dancing, go on over to the juke box and pick out your music, then come here to the side of the stage-" she points at where she had climbed up, "-to give me your stage name and the song you want."

"Plastic as ever," Vinnie retorts with badly feigned cheer which manages to highlight the underscoring good humor behind the remark, vile 80s teen romcom sarcasm as a form of fondness. She snorts a laugh when Count takes his seat, shamelessly nuzzling at the back of his head in the wake of that half-assed air kiss. "Ain't no use in shouldas, baby. I'm here tonight. You gonna put on a good show?" Her free arm drapes lazily around him like it belongs there while the other permits him a taste of that cherry-rasberry-cocacola-rootbeer-coconut slushy horror. She lifts her head when Charlotte approaches, a wide smile turned her way. "Rum. 151." With a shake of her slurpee, she adds, "For my little friend." Only then, order placed, does she give the rest of the room a look, considering the other patrons, other potential entertainments, seeing if anyone takes interest when Lolly puts out the call for participants.

Just in time to catch the last bit of Cinnamon's show and Lolly's announcement, Poppy steps into the stripclub and glances around with an interested sort of expression: perhaps she's never been to a strip club before. On the other hand, she's currently wearing black stiletto boots that lace to the knee, black skinny jeans and a loose-fitting, grey t-shirt that reads 'FUCK' across the front, so maybe not so much. Hooking her thumbs into the front pockets of her jeans, she considers the bar carefully before she sways her way over to Haruki, lifting a hand in cheerful greeting.

Haruki offers Cinnamon a tip too. And then he spots Poppy who he smiles brightly at and waves, beckoning her over. "Hi! How're you? Last time it was all guys so I'm guessing this time all girls?"

"Be careful." Count warn's Vinnie, "Most of what they serve here is about a quarter battery acid, and I am pretty sure I mean that literally." he looks over towards the bar and makes a face. Then he looks to Charlotte, like actually finally acknowledges her and gives her a smile with too many too sharp teeth. "You got anything there that's not been opened by Mongo over there? Otherwise, yeah, something strong for her sugar water."

At this point Lolly is speaking up and Count is considering. snorting at Vinnie's request. "I might just, but last time one of the girls had the guts to go on stage, so I feel I'm owed some Amateur Titty's before I perform again." Then he speaks louder. "Don't chicken out this time ladies!"

Unfortunately, it seems that many eyes turn to Lux at the proclamation by Lolly, as if something is drawing those mortal eyes to her even in the darkened booth she tries to hide in. As if there is a bit of a glowing sign hung around her that says 'look!' ... and if one doesn't think to hard about it, then ... well yes. There is. she glows within the dark both. Trick of the light from the stage, right?

Nonetheless Lux doesn't stand or move to offer herself to the leering masses. That most certainly does not become her. And besides, she hasn't got her wine yet. So instead she settles her gloved hands together in her lap (wouldn't put anything she cared about on the table. It would probably stick) and lets her eyes wander around the patrons, away from the stage. She picks out a few people and studies them, as if looking through a fishbowl at a goldfish.

"Mongo? Oh, Sam? I'm sure we've got something that's been opened by someone else, sure thing." Charlotte says, "But you're at the mercy of the house if that's the only restriction you got, babe." She adds with a little grin offered at, "I'll be back around with your lady friend's rum, and you can give me the verdict then." She says, then is off back to the bar with her orders for the Bartender.

Poppy arches an eyebrow at Haruki. "I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about, but I'm here out of curiosity, not to shake my own tits. I've got other shit to sell." The siren gives him a wink before glancing towards Count; the Beast's comment is rewarded with a sharp smile and a cheerful middle finger before she slides into a chair near the magician.

Haruki blinks at Poppy. "I didn't think you were dancing. I was just commenting. Last time lots of guys danced but if you were here looking for that I don't see any in the audience today. Um. Never mind."

"Steel stomach," Vinnie assures, though it's Count's stomach she pats, her own a bit obscured at the moment. "Years of cheese fries and gravy fries and bacon fries..." And she could probably go on, but man, that list's making her hungry. Damnit. Nevermind the look down at the neck in front of her, the little lick to her lips. The talk of titties draws her attention up, giving her hunger somewhere else to center. "I feel we're both owed that," comes almost seriously. "I didn't hit up the ATM for nothing."

A young woman, about the same age as Lolly, giggles and makes her way toward the stage. She scribbles her name down and quietly tells the 'Captain' the song she has in mind, and Lolly, in her turn, says something to someone behind the curtain. Smiling at the girl and taking her coat, Lolly checks the clipboard, then hops back up on stage to announce, "Let's give a round of applause for Honeybuns!" And, with a friendly wave to the blonde, Lolly scampers off the stage.

The beginning of 'Cheap Thrills' (https://youtu.be/nYh-n7EOtMA -- start at 0:22) comes on, and the self-named 'Honeybuns' gets up on stage to start dancing around one of the poles, movements a bit jerky from nerves.

Charlotte returns to Lux's table in short order, on her tray are a few drinks, one in particular is a 'pirate mug' thats probably been cleaned, maybe. It's what the red wine is in, the sort from a box, probably, and the cheap kind at that. She sets it down on the table for Lux, as well as a bag of generic brand snack mix. "There ya are, that'll be $7.50." She says as she rests the tray against her hip, which she cocks out a bit, glancing a bit up at the stage as Honeybuns comes on stage.

"More than owed, we are /entitled/!" Count agrees with a faux-vehemence, and then nods his head to Charlotte as she heads back tot he bar. He's about to say more when that song starts playing and 'Honeybuyns' makes her way to the stage, and he suddenly grins wide and lets out a /LOUD??? whistle, and shakes his butt in Vinnie's lap. "There we go." He says in the tones of a man who fee's he's been denied the sight of boobs for far too long, which, with the advent of the internet, might have only been about 15 minutes.

Then he turns to Vinnie, giving her a smooch to the temple before he gets out of her lap. "Imma go make sure no one takes my song." he murmursd as he gets up, and then catching Poppy's single fingers salute, he gives one right back to her with a grin, befgore making his way towards Lolly and speaking in a low voice about the music he wants.

Gesturing to the bills left on the table already, Lux gives a flat smile that does not reach her eyes. "I do not need any change," she says softly, just loud enough to be heard over the music. It's a twenty on the table,but it might as well be burning in acid for all the indication that Lux will ever pick it back up again. She reaches out to the mug, hand hesitating a moment, then sighs and lifts it. There is a grimace as she takes the sip, and a sigh again. Then she shrugs and turns her attention towards 'Honeybuns'.

The light-smoke about Lux drifts down from about her head and shifts to her hands, as if working to be some sort of shield against the dirty mug. For the moment, she considers, even as she watches Count head toward the stage. Nothing changes in the other ways about her, and she simply observes.

The siren mms harmonically in amusement at Haruki. "You're making a hell of a lot of assumptions," she says wryly, stretching her legs out and crossing them at the ankle. As 'Honeybuns' makes her way onto the stage, Poppy grins, the expression broadening at the song. Apparently she's content to skip the drinks for the evening. Maybe she has something stashed in a pocket. Count's enthusiasm is met with a smirk, and his return salute with a laugh that's swallowed by the music.

Vinnie's hand moves from the place it's taken up on Count's tummy to fish into her hoodie pocket, her body squirming beneath his rocking bottom, the whole of them an unsettling and unstable pile of cheerful sleaze. From her pocket, she pulls out a fold of fresh, fairly crisp singles, all green and ready to be put to use. And held out to Count that he might make his approval for Honeybuns known in a manner more than merely vocal. "You tell 'er, Layaway." Peering over his shoulder, she then tells her too, "Shake it, baby. Let us see a little more meat!"

'Honeybuns' isn't half bad, but it's obvious within the first thirty seconds that she hasn't danced around a pole for very long. Oh, she knows some of the moves, but after dancing her way out along the 'plank', brave thing, to spin and twirl and wiggle to the beat on THAT pole, one of her heels breaks as she sets her weight back down on her feet, the piece flying off and *plish*ing into a patron's drink while Honeybuns herself slips, splats, and bounces hard enough to pop the middle button on her button-down top. Scrambling to her feet, or, well, foot and tippytoes, blushing fit to burst, she laughs and tries to get back into the dance, slowly finishing that shirt and peeling it off to drop behind her, revealing a rhinestone push-up bra and some very fine cleavage.

Thankfully, the remainder of the dance is without incident, and, flushed, she crookedly limps off of the stage after collecting her top and skirt.

Lolly claps for Honeybuns, and, seeing Count waiting, she does a brief doubletake, checks his music, and ducks back to tell someone behind the curtain before announcing, "Thank you, Honeybuns, and now let's give a round of applause to, um, Count!" She waves him up onto the stage and scampers off.

"Thanks sugar." Charlotte says, scooping up the money and depositing it on her tray before she's wandering over towards Vinnie's table with a little tumbler of strong rum, "Five bucks." She says as she places the glass down, looking at Vinnie a bit, "Your friend make up his mind on what he wanted?"

Vinnie probably shouldn't laugh, but holy fuck was that funny! Between her guffaws, there's some cheering and howling for Honeybuns and her brave, broken ass. "Way to rock it, baby. No shame!" She's grinning rather happily when Charlotte makes ehr way back around, that handful of too much cash offered over for the server to count out what she wants, including tip. "I think he wants to get his ass up there and show us how it's really done. You got any champagne to celebrate that grand fucking revelation?"

And then there is... Count. He's enthusiastically applauding Honeybun, and as she passes he drops a couple crumpled bills of mysterious denomination into her arms with her clothes, and then sort of does this little hip wiggle, followed by a couple bouncing jumps, like an athlete getting psyched before a competition.

The next thing he does is pull what appears to be a pen of some sort from his pocket, brings it to his lips and has a long drag, and then a second, before he catches Vinnie's eye and tosses it her way.

It's 2018 baby, joints are obvious, use a vape, get high discrete.

Then his name is announced, and the music starts to play, and Count takes a few steps onto the stage, idly pacing towards the pole, as if nothing special was happening at all...


~No ones gonna take my soul away...~

The song starts and Count, in boots, torn jeans and a tee, grips the bar and takes an idle turn around the pole.

~Fame, liquor, love, give it to me slowly. Put your hands on my waist, do it softly. Me and God we don't get along, so now I sing.~

At this point, Count's put his shoulders to the pole, leaning back with his hips thrust out, alternating between moving his hands around like a hip hop artist and rubbing his hands all over his chest, and then slowly pulling his shirt off and up over his head and horns, swining it around once and then throwing it towards the crowd.

The beasts body is all lean muscle and pale skin... and faded tattoo's and... scars. Bullet Wounds, Which loooks like cuts from a knife, and oddly, what looks like a brand in the shape of an old antique key and a flur de lis deign.

~No one's gonna take my soul away, Living like Jim Morrison. Headed towards a fucked up holiday. Motel, sprees, sprees, and I'm singing, Fuck yeah give it to me, this is? heaven, what I truly want It's innocence lost. Innocence lost.~

Boots tumble off the stage towards Vinnie's table, and then his pants are drawn down all sexy like. Revealing obzer shorts, black, decorated with colorful sugar skulls all over. He continues to dance and shake things, touch his nipples etc.

~In the land of gods and monsters, I was an angel, lookin' to get fucked hard. Like a groupie incognito posing as a real singer, Life imitates art You got that medicine I need Dope, shoot it up straight to the heart please I don't really wanna know what's good for me God's dead, I said 'baby that's alright with me'~

And now he's on his knees, shaking his ass, twerking, bent over. pulling down his underwear to reveal... a G-String?!

Yes, and when he gets up, that's all he's wearing, with a puch of cloth that both hides and accentuates his junk, which he grabsd and gyrates as the song comes to an end...

Honeybuns gets a round of applause - and a few dollars - from Poppy for her 'show must go on' attitude; apparently the siren's decided paper airplanes are a perfectly valid way to tip the dancer. Lolly's introduction of Count as the next dancer is met with another sharp-toothed grin; the dance number that follows results in a broadening of that grin, as well as more paper airplane dollars. Classy. Hopefully they're not too pointy.

Eyeing the stage, Lux leaves the mug on the table after another satisfying drink. Seeing the Horned Beast approach the stage makes one of her brows raise, and she considers what might be happening. Of course, then it is, and she blinks. That... that is not something she expected to watch tonight. Her brow arches again, more appreciatively, and she leans forward a little bit. After the Beast begins his dance she even cracks a smile, a bit of laughter in her eyes. She shakes her head and takes a sip of her wine, perhaps even not noticing that it is grimace worthy.

"Might have something." Charlotte says to Vinnie, "I offer special bottle service in the poop deck too, if that's something you're interested in as well, though it's not all that cheap." She adds with a little laugh, "Flag me down if you need anything else!"

Vinnie wiggles in her seat once freed of her occupant, blue eyes all half-lidded and happy as she smiles wide at Count's backside as he gets that ass up there on stage. She drops her cash on the table next to the rum--most of it, anyway, a few bills go rogue without much concern from Little Miss Ain't Gonna Do Laundry This Week over here--so that she can catch that vape, blow the new dancer a kiss... then take a hit. She spends the first several seconds of his performance wholly distracted as she mixes rum with slushy while, it would seem, lip-syncing badly to herself and, intermittently, twisting her fingers in weird little moves more appropriate for the rave that this is very much NOT. By the time she sinks back into her seat to drink deep of her bounty of alcohol, sugar and dye and intermingle those big gulps with the occasional toke, Count's already working it. Those boots hitting the table may well knock over the tumbler, but quick-fingered Halloween-Head over here catches it before it rolls off the table. Which is more consideration than she gives the stack of one dollar bills which go scattering. There goes his tip. Which, really, is a goddamned shame given how much he fucking *EARNS* that cash with that skimpy little g-string that has her laughing and howling and calling for more. "Take it off, baby! SO CLOSE!"

Lolly just...stares...at Count as he dances, expression partially that of someone struggling not to laugh, and partially the horrified fascination of watching a train wreck in progress.

Train wrecks don't typically end with G-strings and banana hammocks.

Applauding at the end, she glances at Vinnie, blushing, and steps back up on stage after collecting herself to announce, "And that was Count! Um. Very nearly all of him. Who'd like to be next?"

Cash on the floor and Airplane Dollars (one of which he manages to snatch from the air, while another hits him on the side of the head and gets stuck in his hair, which earns Poppy a grin and him sticking out one of his vividly blue tongues at her.

For the Changelings in the audiance: Count has a line of dark green scales down the center of his back, all the way down his spine, which end at.. is that... yes that was a goat tail he was twerking with, like a damned faun.

From here and there he gathers pants, underwear, boots... shir-- no... no, where is the shirt. he starts to look around and then just sighs dramatically. "I think I lost another one..." these words muttered as he makes his way back towards Vinnie, reaching out and making one grabby hand towards her, but for what... it's unclear.

"Heather," comes from Vinnie where she's still sitting when Lolly calls for who's next. Mind, her baby blues are watching Count collect himself, only looking to the announcer after her name's been given. Only then does she kick off her sneakers--sorry, kids, those aren't even making it onto the stage, disappointing, to be sure--and get to her feet. First, she hands Count his vape then, very seriously, "Take good care of Martha," comes with an offer of her rum-fucked slushy. Then a skitter of cold, wet fingers down his torso. And then she's off to the jukebox and its SURPRISINGLY DEEP collection of music to make her selection so she can take her turn shaking it on stage. All in sock feet. Those socks? White with little yellow bananas on them. Oh yeah, she came prepared.

Lolly seems relieved when someone else volunteers, echoing Vinnie with, "Welcome, Heather!" and stepping out of the way so the wow-orange haired dancer can get on stage!

Poppy doesn't /quite/ laugh at Lolly's blush, although there's a bright glint to those opalescent eyes. Count's bright tongue is met with a mock-snap from the siren and another grin, then she tilts her head as 'Heather' volunteers next, that grin widening again, even as she starts folding more dollars into paper airplanes.

"Oh don't you worry one strand of your pretty pumpkin head, me an' Martha are gonna be /good/ friends." Says Count who first pulls his boxers on, and then, /somehow/ manages to pull the g-string out and drops it on the table. Pants and boots follow, but he remains shirtless, because, someone out there has taken it. Again.

He settles in and watches as Vinnie gets up on stage, takes Martha in his lap and takes a drag from the vape pen before tucking it away. The banana socks already have the Chimera smiling, and pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he exhales that near-unscented cloud of THC rich vapor. His attention is fucking RAPT. Apaprently he really wants to see this.

With appreciative eyes, Lux watches the tailed Beast leave the stage, then shakes her head. The wine is pushed away from her - she won't be risking another drink - and she folds her hands back into her lap. She is content to stay there, leaning back into the shadows. Even though she glows slightly, she seems to fade a bit. Time to simply watch the show.

"Rookie mistake losing your shirt like that." Charlotte comments towards Count as he makes his way back to a table, her rounds bringing her back around where he's seating himself. "I can get you a new one, if you're willing to pay for it, of course." She adds with a winsome smile flashed at the beast man.

Bored + Lazy by Jamaican Queens begins to play...

Vinnie flips her hood up to cover her neon hair as she takes the stage in her banana-socked feet and jeans. She starts with her back to the audience, the red-on-yellow BROKEN DREAMS CLUB really setting the tone for what's about to come, fitting the low-and-slow notes coming through the sound system as her music begins to play. She takes the first few bars with a bit of unimpressive pop-and-locking of her shoulders to the music, not particularly distinct in that too-big hoodie, but by the time the lyrics start up, "The tragedy takes way too long," she's turning to face the crowd with one hand tugging up her top to show her mostly toned tummy below, to give a good view of her zipper being drawn down way, way too slowly as he sings of waiting rooms and hauntings. It isn't until he's singing about how, "Candace got her eyes torn out," that she's got her pants sliding down over those deliciously long legs, keeping it unduly modest with her ass angled back at no one at all and, let's be clear, hidden by those too-big tops of hers.

Jeans are dropped off the plank as the first refrain begins, as she starts actually working her dancing chops, dropping low at 'kneel down' and pushing her knees out wide to flash the deep blue satin panties keeping her modest. Her movements shift between clipped and fluid, one hard stop moving into a swishy twist of hips or flourish of hand. Though she's got that tee shirt on below it, she works her hoodie like nobody's business, taking her time getting it off, letting it linger low around her hips to frame them for a few before it simply falls, freeing her hands to go up under her tee to tease at her tits, the movement seen through the fabric without showing any more than her belly above those low-cut panties. But the tee comes off, too, soon enough, and mindful not to lose it--as it not knowing where it is--she throws that big red bundle at Count, giving him the first shimmy of those pretty, perky tits. Really, up there in nothing but those panties and socks, moving like she knows what to do with her body, it's not hard to imagine her as a model--or pornstar--but here she is, in Nowhere, VT, drinking slushies and flashing her tits to strangers for shits and giggles.

By the time those last notes are chiming out, one of her hands has slunk down into her panties as if she's about to give a whole other sort of show, but she plays good, pulls it back, flips the crowd the bird affectionately... then licks that same finger suggestively. All class up in here.

When Charlotte somes up with her advice, Count looks at her, wide eyes, mouth open, as is /shocked!/ at the /audacity/, but he's also laughing silent so his face with it's mouth agape seems almost ecstatic. "Oh shit, girl you gotta mouth..." and he can finish because of a sudden snickerfit. "Fuck it, get me a shirt, you pick." and then he leans over to pick some cash off the floor and offer it over to Charlotte.

But then Vinnie starts getting into it and Count's leonine eyes are once more drawn to the splash of neon on the stage.

He catches her clothes and drops them into the seat beside him, taking the alcoholic slurpee to his lips and taking a long sip through the straw, watching her with the wide eyed pleasure of an 80's child watching Saturday morning cartoons over a box of Count Chocula.

Knowing is half the battle.

As the dance continues, his attention changes a bit more, grows a bit more private, pupils dilated and then he rather pointedly shoves the icy drink between his legs. FOR REASONS.

"Captain fucking Kirk?" Poppy suggests to Charlotte with a smirk, then shifts her attention back towards the stage, arching an eyebrow at the giant hoodie. as Vinnie works her way down through the layers of clothes, however, the siren grins appreciatively - whether it's for the artistry or the girl herself, it's hard to say. Certainly a few paper airplane dollars make their way stagewards. That final salute is met with another harmonic laugh which only increases at Count's shoving of the drink between his legs.

And three times a charm, it seems, for Lux has had her fill for the evening. With one last glance around the establishment, her eyes settling in on those who have parts to hide, even here in this bare all sort of place, she nods silently to herself and heads for the door, wine in a mug only half consumed, and nothing left behind that would draw any sort of connection to her. The pool of light drifts after her, hidden from mortal eyes but leaving streaks across her footsteps as she heads out the exit.

Vinnie's got a wink-and-kiss just for Poppy and that bright, beautiful laughter. She makes a point of showing of her ass as she bends to pluck up one of those pretty green paper airplanes and her hoodie before shuffling off the stage in her banana socks and blue undies. She's got her hoodie on by the time she rejoins Count and Marsha, not one single thought given to the rest of her clothes before she settles down on his lap with a shimmy of her hips. The way she leans back expresses a comfort which just might be born of the beautiful combination of rum and pot--and surely some endorphins--working their way through her system. She doesn't pay much mind to the way the hoodie falls, but it does keep her mostly modest on one side. The other? Well, gravity's winning out there, one tit on continued display. It happens.

The sound system and music selection are about the only decent-quality things in the club, even if most of the popularly used songs are all pirate themed.

Lolly watches Vinnie, then, a testament to how well Vinnie is doing the whole strip tease thing, oh so subtly slides her attention out over the crowd instead, to watch how THEY are taking the act.

Notably, while the tables are lacking in many amenities, the one thing all of the waitresses ensure they are -always- well stocked-up on is napkins... you know. In case of spills. Cough cough Count cough cough.

Once Vinnie is through, the blushing Captain applauds, and hops back up onto the stage while turning the mic back on to say, "Thank you, Heather, for that rousing performance!" There are a fair number of slurred and variously enthusiastic male echoes, and a few female, too. "Now, let's get our wenches out on the floor so they can take your votes. Who should have their name engraved, forever, on a plaque right over there?" The plaque, it may be noted, has three names on it already: The Masked Magician, Count, The Scandalous Swashbuckler.

Returning a short while later is Charlotte, she has a shirt in her hand, and it's even black. However, it's one of those tight shirts, with the deep vee neck to it, but it's a designer shirt. Materially? Probably a comparable value to what Count handed her, though stylistically.." She makes her way back to where Count sits, holding the shirt up for him to see, before setting it down on the table, "Your shirt."

Count has to act fast to remove the slushie from between his thighs before Vinnie plants her derriere in his lap, shifting his hips just so as he accepts her sudden presence. Martha on the table so a cold hand can land on Vinnie's stomached as he supports the faintly wobbly Buddy cum Stripper in his lap.

"Well damn doll, I didn't know you has that in you." And for a moment, Count, Mr Smarmy Cool looks a touch flustered, and manages to clear his throat and, yes, he did just shift his hips again. He must be trying to find a way to get comfortable. maybe being someone's seat just sint something he's used to... or something.

And then Charlotte comes to save him and he looks to the shirt and raises a brow, and then just grins at her, all teeth and pleasure. "Perfect!"

Vinnie has a flirtatious little finger-wiggling wave for the blushing Captain. It might be cute and effective if it didn't get oversold with an eyebrow waggle as well. It's an over-the-top kind of night. She tilts her head back onto Count's shoulder to murmur something undoubtedly salacious to him, only looking up again when Charlotte approaches with that shirt. And oh, how she nods her agreement. Perfect indeed. "Motherfucking hero right there." Even that sounds flirtatious. We're blaming the rum, right? With votes called for, she's got an arm up over her head to point a finger down at Count's. "Mr. G-String's gotta get it. Ass like that?"

When the wenches (waitresses) bring up their little slips of paper, Lolly carefully sorts them out on stage, one at a time, and laughs as she declares, "And the winner is Heather! Congratulations, Heather!"

The applause is genuine, tipsy, and comes with a loudly slurred, "She gonna do a victory dance?" which prompts a smattering of appreciative laughter and agreement.

Poppy grins again at Vinnie, then looks amused at Count's hasty relocation of that drink - or is it more for that flustered look on the Beast's face? Lolly's announcement is met with another grin and she glances towards that wall for a moment, then the rest of the paper airplanes disappear somewhere, and the siren settles back in her chair, recrossing her ankles. The announcement of the winner has her applauding warmly, however.

Charlotte flashes a grin, "I can get you anything you might need, matey." she says to Count, "So long as you can afford it." She looks next to Vinnie, "Congrats there, come find me if you want that bottle service." She says with a little wink at the winner of the night.

Vinnie looks like she is seriously considering that offer from Charlotte, giving the girl a low-lidded look from where she lazes rather comfortably atop Count, but then there are calls of 'victory dance,' and she's looking up at Lolly with brows raised as if to ask, 'Yeah?' Is that a thing? She could be down.

Lolly is looking at Vinnie, as it so happens, to silently question whether Vinnie WOULD be up for a second dance. When Vinnie seems willing, the 'Captain' nods, floofy hat-feather wafting behind her, and gestures to the stage in invitation.

"Oh Girl..." Count says to Charlotte "...you watch yer mouth, you don't know just how deep my pockets go." Cue a dirty faux-leer to the waitress as he deliberately bounces his knee under Vinnie, and then turns his attention towards his lap-companion (Lapanion?), and whatever she whispered has him looking at her like a fat kid looks at a chocolate sundae. his mouth opens as if to say something and then snaps his teeth shut, taking a bite out of the air in front of her face.

"Then the winner is announced and he grins and bounces Vinnie again "Yess girl, Victory Lap! Dance, Dance!"

There's really not a lot of stripping to be done, dressed as Vinnie is in nothing but her open hoodie, those blue hip-hugging panties and her banana-print socks. It's a look. But it's a look she takes back to the jukebox to cue up a second song. This time, it's Solid Gold by Battle Tapes featuring Party Nails. This time, she waits for the music to start before moving, her hips ticking back and forth in time. When she turns toward the stage, walking in perfect step to the beat, she steals a bottle of beer from one of the leering audience members, taking a quick swig before climbing up onto the plank... and using it as a microphone. It's less strip-tease than lip-sync now, but man oh MAN does she sell it, all lissome and slinky, working those plush lips of hers to shape the words above the bottle, bringing her brows together as she repeats, "Breathe, breathe, breathe." By the time she's mouthing, "I only wanna be your self-inflicted wound," she's getting deep into it, her attention settled on her abandoned seat. "Show me what makes you human. I'll show you vulnerable. You bend, you break, you surrender..." Grin. "I melt like solid gold." With a jut of her hips, she's back to strutting up and down the plank to finish the song, chugging that borrowed beer as she walks her way right off.

"I said exactly what I meant to." Charlotte says with a little smile flashed towards Count before she turns to make her way off about the club, checking on various patrons, and moving to fulfill another round of orders at her tables.

Poppy seems more than happy for a 'victory lap' and may have relocated a few more paper-airplanes, tossing them stage-ward for that final lip-synch-dance with a cheerful grin. As Vinnie struts her way off the stage, however, it seems the siren's either done for the night or needing to be elsewhere, as she pushes herself to her feet, and, tossing a cheerful wave to friendly faces, heads towards the door.

And here again, the Horned Beast of winter stares rapt as Vinnie saunters on stage and performs... generously. The Look?? Count apparently likes this look. Orange hair, Blue Panties and yellow socks. Yup, he is down.

Only Charlotte manages to distract him, and he glances over at her again, eyes widening, and then looking her up and down, rather clinically, and that grin of his turns absolutely shark like. "Well now I know where to find you..." yes, he is in fact thinking things that are too graphic for polite, or even faintly rude company.

When Vinnie finishes up he's reaching into his pocket and, pulling out a whole stack of 1's, still bound together from the bank, he tosses it towards her.

Vinnie catches that stack of dollar bills rather deftly when it's tossed her way, giving Count a deeply amused WTF face... as she shoves it right into her pocket, making up for her earlier losses. She does she bother to plunk right down onto his lap when she the distance this time, her gaze flitting about the room to find Charlotte, tracking the server once she does. For a couple seconds, anyway. Then it's down to her handsome--and purportedly horned--armchair to ask, "Bottle service?" But then she bends forward, hands down to either side of him, that hoodie hanging wide open and hiding nothing--and her blue-clad behind surely pointing rudely at someone else--to murmur something a little more quietly. Not that she, like, waits politely for an answer or anything before snatchig up Martha and rehydrating. And sugaring. And rumming. All the important stuff.

Before long, Charlotte is of course making her way back around to the table Count and Vinnie occupy, grinning at the pair, "So, you all doing okay still? Need anything to drink or anything?" she asks, resting her tray against her hip as she watches the couple for a couple of moments.

Lolly does her best not to actually look at any bits and bobs of bobbing body, and applauds when Vinnie completes her 'victory lap' along the side of the 'ship' and 'plank'. "Thank you all! And with that, our amateur strip night comes to an end!"

As if that were a signal, which is most certainly was, three of the professionals saunter out on stage in mermaid costumes and enough glitter to choke any laundromat's washer filters, the music shifting to a slowly throbbing beat with purely instrumental (if one counts airy breathing as instrumental) backgrounds and vaguely piratical tonality.

Hey, it could have been a roll of quarters. Make it HAIL.

Count's hands manage to find Vinnie's hips as she sinks into his lap again, lifting his chin for just a moment and grows thoughtful about the bottle service, that is until Vinnie whispers into his ear, and a decision is made. Tilting his head back he looks to Charlotte and grins at her, "No thank's Home girl, We're on our way out." and then turns his eyes back to Vinnie, a curious eyebrow aloft, as if triple checking her will, in this age of checking consent.