What Is Art? Prostitution. [Open]

[Fiend]

Rainey didn't run a whore house, he didn't run a motel, nor did he run any fetish farms. "Ah put my stock in opium." However, he assumed that this tid bit or information wouldn't have been enough for her to grasp exactly what he meant.

"Opium den in Harlem. People there twenty-four seven, mainly men. And if you still can't pay faur yer flat, you can stay with me," overly generous. Screw this cough medicine.

It was almost like he was damn near begging her to come over to his business/home, however it wasn't like he was hurting for business. With China Town down near the south tip, he was one of the few in north Manhattan- also known as Harlem.

"Ah think you'd fit in well. Cocaine, absinthe, opium- this cough medicine that's gotten me damn near drunk..." he realized he was babbling and he stopped himself. Talking about all the mind-altering substances in his facility might just be a turn off. "And Ah wouldn't let anyone hurt you."

That was one thing he could promise- well, half way. Some man could smack her around, but if Allena let him know, Rainy would smack him around right back. If a man wanted to hit a broad, he could find a whore into that as well.

"Of course, no obligation. Normally, I don't allow soliciting," he found it to be a clever little quip, although Allena might think the opposite. Whatever, he was just trying to help her out.

[Jinxy Chenevix]

Allena nodded, although she didn't exactly understand. She was now able to identify the smell that hung about him, though, or so she thought. His new opportunities sounded like a good deal for her, save for the fact that she was about to agree to whore herself to men out of an opium den. She considered the fact that she may have been able to extort the inebriated men for more than she was worth, provided they would agree in that state of mind.

His offer was better than she would have hoped. The only flaw was that Harlem wasn't very close to Queens in much of any way, shape or form. Prostitution wasn't her sole profession--rather, quite the opposite. Her entire life had been devoted to the art that was ballet, and certainly not in the art of prositution. She was higher bred than that, and her sister often criticized her for her little past time. Adversely, Allena criticized her sister for being lazy and spoiled. She wasn't sure which was the greater of the two evils.

Before she questioned why she'd fit in well with the drug fiends, she considered this offer. Was there any way that she could effectively pull this off? Probably not. Something would have to be sacrificed. The benefits were certainly alluring, though, and she was skeptical of turning down this offer. It would be rather difficult to track the man down again if she turned him down-- it was generally frowned upon, even in these days, to go around asking where the nearest opium den was.

She supposed that she could come with him for the evening, scope the place out, figure the distance in. Practices didn't start until midmorning, around ten thirty, and shows didn't start until the evening, perhaps six oclock, eight o'clock if it was a weekend. Sundays had matinee performances, but they started around noon or three, to avoid the religious oppressions, and there were no practices Sunday mornings.

In addition, her sister was relatively self sufficient. She wasn't this little girl any more, and could now make breakfasts on her own. She was even attending rudimentary high school, although she was dropping out after she turned seventeen in March.

"May I come vith you for ze evening?" she asked, cocking her head to the side. "You know, just to see it, and see if it vould be possible?"