Le Cafe' Fetish

Le Cafe' Fetish (#1310)

(an instance of Generic Room with Seats made by melusina)

     The drab plastic prefab walls are draped in black velvet. A series of bug-zappers suspended from the ceiling bathe the room in a sickly blue light, punctuated by the repetitive blinding flash of a concealed strobe. Each stab of light provides an instant of harsh illumination. The low-slung couch shoved against the far wall, the plain wooden chairs grouped about a table fashioned from a broken concrete slab, the small iron cage in the corner.

You sink down into the prickly cushions of the couch. It's so low that you are nearly crouching, your knees higher than your hips.

You notice some details:
      Perched upon clawed feet, the couch hovers low to the ground. It is covered in a dark rough fabric, perhaps burlap. Whatever it is, it's itchy.
      Uncomfortably low, the jagged edges of the concrete tabletop look knee threatening.

You see Trix and Jeremy here.

EXITS:
      [ east ] Dying Moon Carnival. You grope your way along the east wall until you find the door. Pushing it open, you escape back into the relative sanity of the carnival.
      [ north ] The House of Freaks. Looking closely at the gap in the velvet, you discover a doorway roughly cut into the north wall, covered on the other side by ripped canvas. You part the canvas and step through.
      An unassuming little cage, about the size and shape of a phonebooth. Its door hangs open invitingly, and the shadows inside seem deeper than in the rest of the room, as if billowing upwards from a hidden source. [ cage ] The Pit. Taking a deep breath, you walk into the cage. You realize that it has no floor, but is instead set over a hole in the ground. Lowering one foot into the gap, you discover that a rough wooden staircase leads down into the darkness. You carefully descend, gingerly trailing your fingers along the clammy walls for balance.
      [ west ] Behind the Fetish. Gingerly moving aside the fabric covering the western wall, you discover a hole in the shed's plastic shell. You carefully step through the jagged gap, moving outside with some sense of relief.
      [ southwest ] The Whipping Post.

This place has a certain ambiance...
     You see a metallic flash as the strobe light dances across a pair of handcuffs hanging from the wall.
     A tall woman in a rubber teddy and stiletto heels brushes imperiously past you.
     A muffled leathery thump sounds suspiciously like a riding crop falling to the ground.

     Trix struts about the room, idly toying with the zipper pull on her jumpsuit.