Frost was dressed fairly well for the evening. It was his usual solid black clubbing attire. He escorted a similarly well dressed Pepper along the street towards a hotel that had been shut down since he last was a non-taxpaying citizen of NYC. However, he'd discovered something almost by accident one night when chasing a minor mortal politician
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"Talk about your buried treasures, Deacon. Wonder where all this came from?"
Something about the place seemed familiar to her though, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Like a dream of something from another world, or another life. Or maybe a nightmare.
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"But I wanted to check it out. This place has the works, a bar, a cafeteria, a fucking sex shop..." He shrugged. "What more could you want?"
Her expression showed there might be something more. "What's wrong?"
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She looks across the lobby to a small shop with it's doors shut. "Oh, it looks like the sex shop is closed." There were other doors too, locked and barred with boards nailed over them. The sign above those doors read 'Guilty Pleasures.'
"Well, looks like the night club is closed. Let's get a drink in the bar, shall we lover?" I'll have the champagne, and you can have the waiter."
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Inside, the place seemed to be pretty busy. Apparently somehow others were getting in here too. He wondered where all of the entrances to the place were. A place like this would be fucking great if he could have one; hunters wouldn't even be able to fucking get in.
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