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Author's Note: Having found a temporary home and temporary 'profession,' Iris starts scoping out marks....

[story]

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‭You awaken in a soft bed. Not a cell bunk, not the ground, not a travel cot with some wandering minstrel caravan. For a moment you forget where you are, how you got here, panic nearly setting in before your mind filters the events of the day before. You’re out of prison, you’re in Vauntreux, and you’re at the Fat Lantern, where you work.

Wait… work?

Shit! You have a job now!

Sitting upward in bed, hair a wild mess of white and black, you search around for signs of a clock, and do see one mounted on the wall in front of you, a cumbersome clockwork throw-together telling you that while it certainly isn’t morning, nor is it as late as it could be. You certainly took time to get your beauty sleep, though, that much is certain.

Scrambling, naked, out of bed, you find your washroom and mirror, drawing water from a mechanized (and remarkably noisy) pump into a basin, using a provided clean cloth to wash yourself up and rake wet fingers through your long tangle of hair, straightening it to the best of your ability. You’ll definitely have to look into finding a proper bath, along with, some manner of decent grooming instruments. As is, though, your natural good looks are holding up, giving you a vibe that says ‘cute, but unhinged, and probably very slutty.’ Not inaccurate.

Rubbing your eyes, you throw on your shabby old clothes from yesterday and head downstairs to find Duggan already up and taking the night shift over from an unusually short, auburn-haired dwarf man. “Sorry’m late,” you groan, still blinking sleep from your eyes. “Been a sec since I slept in a real bed.”

“Well, you start in an hour,” the human grunts, “get some breakfast and throw on an apron. Meda’s getting some much-needed me-time before she joins you in the evening.”

Not a bad setup for you, honestly – work honestly in the morning, use Meda’s assistance to prowl for ‘customers,’ then ditch her later on to make some real sems. That’s definitely a schedule you can work with.

Breakfast is light but pleasant, consisting of a few small, uncased sausages, a little mound of cooked grains (which are filling enough, but admittedly bland), and a couple slices of tomato. Duggan gives you a sour, low-proof ale to drink with it, which is somewhat strange to you, but a lot of things in Vauntreux are proving to be pretty weird. You’ll get used to it in time, you suppose.

Actually working is, predictably, bullshit, but you have to start somewhere while you find your way in a totally unknown city, in a totally unknown country. Fortunately, the morning seems pretty slow compared to the way things were yesterday evening, and even midday isn’t as much of a challenge as it could have been. You make a few mistakes, and find your patience for patrons to be… decidedly thin, but you suck it up. Things really heat up when Meda arrives – while she starts to shoulder a great portion of the burden, the clientele also increases considerably, and it’s towards the tail end of the evening that you start to… scout.

You search primarily for people you already find intriguing or cute, then nudge Meda out of the way and insist on serving them, something she seems a bit too dense to catch on to. Once you’ve found your marks, you turn on the charm and wait for them to make a move, whether it be a wink, a grope, a flirt, or an unnecessarily generous tip. By the time your shift’s about to end, you have a few prospects… the only question is who you want to make the offer to.

First and foremost is a pair of brothers, maybe even twins. They’re veislin by the look of them, though you’ve never seen one come this far north of Darkfen. Tall, pretty, and somewhat androgynous, they’d been giving you hard looks since they came in, and even a little bit of flirting tipped their hand – they’re definitely interested, though you seriously doubt you could get these amphibious boy-toys as anything other than a pair (not that you’d want to). Gold accents along their jaws and pointed ears breaks up the smooth cyan of their hairless skin, and silvery locks seem to drift and float around their heads, as if perpetually underwater. And you don’t even know what veislin have going on downstairs… but it could definitely be fun to find out.

Next is a woman, human by the looks of her, though slightly pointed ears may bely a brush-stroke of elven heritage. Clad in black and mostly leather, her lips painted blood-red, bedazzled with piercings, she has a ferociously dark, aggressive aesthetic. Her skin is milky white, and waves of fiery crimson hair form a loose pile atop her beautiful head, held in place with various pins and combs. Not enough gems on her to say she’s properly aristocratic, but she certainly holds herself like some sinister noblewoman, and is the only one of your prospects bold enough to actually touch you – offering a firm slap on the ass once you were finished bringing wine to her table. Bold, beautiful, and likely able to afford you, too.

Lastly is another woman, though one with a very, very different aesthetic. Nearing seven feet in height, wrapped in muscle, sporting a long black mohawk and four powerful arms, she’s a member of a species you’ve never seen or even heard of before, though you didn’t take the time to pry. Reddish-tan skin is partially concealed by a black leather harness and loincloth, attached to which are numerous sheaths and scabbards holding small swords, axes, and hammers, and other instruments of combat. She flashes sharp upper and lower canines as she leers at you, offering in a deep, rolling accent to “show you what else she has double of.”

With your shift over and the evening your own, you certainly have options… but what, exactly, do you want to do?

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