Gwen Raiden will spark your ass (sparkingfreak) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2009-07-08 20:42:00 |
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Entry tags: | gwen raiden |
WHO: Gwen Raiden
WHAT: In a different dimension even a thief needs a job. So Gwen goes back to what she knows
WHEN: Night
WHERE: A not particularly nice strip club
RATING: High for, er, stripping?!
STATUS: Finished as narrative, open if someone wants to tag
It had taken Gwen some time to swallow her pride and admit she needed a job. Being a thief was great and all, when one had things to steal. Gwen was used to stealing a certain class of item and stealing other stuff didn't quite feel right. She stole occult items from the rich, not some poor idiot's DVD player. And in Laurence, where she had no contacts, finding the right sorts of things to steal was an issue. And motel rooms needed paying for. She'd already stretched her money out as long as she could by staying in the cheapest place she could find, but with those funds gone, a new income was needed.
She'd trained as a thief as a teenager, when one of her teachers had seen the potential in her abilities and began teaching her subjects not on any approved syllabus list. When she'd realized he needed her more than she needed him, she'd dropped out of school to make it on her, offering herself both independence and an unfortunate lack of qualifications. While still building a reputation in LA she'd paid the rent by working as a stripper in LA, under the stage name Sparks. Now all she'd needed to do was find some club that balanced a lack of asking for IDs with a good no touching policy. And deal with the humiliation of once again needing to take her clothes off for money. Nothing quite like feeling as though you were right back where you started. The first couple of clubs weren't what she needed, before she hit lucky, depending on your definition of luck, with club number four.
She wasn't focusing on the demon, or the woman she'd killed. It had been an accident, self defense as far as she was concerned. She'd do the same again if she had to. Her powers had made her a killer from an early age, and over the years she'd become somewhat numb towards death like that. It was simply part of life, her life. The life of an untouchable freak.
The music was pounding as she twisted herself around the pole, moving up and down in time with the music as she peeled off layers of clothes. The crowd was loud, throwing money onto the stage to make her take off the next piece. Whatever emotions she was actually feeling were pushed down as she plastered a seductive smile on her face, encouraging more cash as she tugged off her glove. As her bare hand touched the metal pole, sparks danced up and down, the crowd shrieking in appreciation. Amazing how many of them assumed it was just special effects. Gwen hooked her fingers around the pole as she arched her body back, focusing on the music rather than the shouting.
It was money. That was the main thing.