Sin and Debauchery in Caledon

It certainly beats fear and loathing.

Gents, Ladies, good eve,

I was unaware until fairly recently that Caledon has a seeming, shall we say... night-life. While most people are fully aware of the balls, the dances, the formal meetings and so forth, I was unaware that there was any sort of underground culture as such (aside from the absinthe houses, of course). Caledon is such a - to borrow the name of a shoppe within our nation - prim and proper place, I felt the place to best get the sort of entertainment a gentleman of myself finds enjoyable, I would have to go to The Pearl or to the House of Ill Repute out in Steelhead.

Thankfully, that is not the case, at least, not anymore.

I was in Violet Petals a couple of days ago, searching for a replacement volume to one I had apparently misplaced (ooc: I picked it up from my coffee table at home and it never appeared in my inventory. It simply vanished).

Whilst perusing the volumes and the risque postcards, I could hear the sound of dancing above my head, and the sound of at least two ladies in conversation. One of them, tho I do not know whom, apparently had seen me entering the establishment and requested my presence in the room upstairs.

Never one to turn down a request from a lady, I made my way out the back door and up a couple outdoor flights of stairs, I found myself inside a darkened room about the size of the store below. Miss Kelley was reclining on a couch, whilst the store's proprietor, Miss Elytis danced near the couch. Next to the couch was a small side-table with a radio and a tray of absinthe next to it. Naturally, however, my interest was taken more with the lovely ladies in the room than with any further decor, so I don't recall anything else in there, I fear.

The radio was playing some gothic music. I said hello to both ladies, bowed to them and made small conversation. Miss Elytis asked me to dance with her and - again, I cannot turn down a lady - I quickly agreed. Not long thereafter, Miss Kelley's fiancee, Mr. Abel, came by to greet her and it seemed that shortly thereafter, the room was filled with both invited guests and wanderers from the street, all dancing to the music, and many in various states of undress.

I will not, however, say who was, of course. What happens at Violet Petals stays in Violet Petals.

By the end of the evening, I was out of all of my clothes, including my kilt and, after drinking at least three large goblets of absinthe, rather exhausted. I passed out on the couch but the party was amazingly, still going on.

Needless to say, we need more events like that. Drink, good music and nudity all make for fine evenings indeed.

Sadly, when I awoke the next morning and asked the revelers if perhaps any, shall we say, impropriety had been done to my passed out body, only Mr. Abel said anything about it - tho I do hope it was just a joke.

yrs,

Puck