[Given that he has, in the not so distant past, both expressed his distaste for and offered to work in the various divisions of Hanzo's would-be pleasure palace, Zenyatta supposes that he ought at least to pay it a visit.
Obviously, he is far from innocent. He has seen brothels before, met the humans and omnics alike who staffed and frequented them- more often former, most of whom nursed decades-deep wounds and ill wishes in what was, inevitably, a place of harsh and inescapable necessity. But the very last thing he should do, he knows, is bring his own preconceptions into what he knows is meant to be an altogether different scenario. This place is perfectly voluntary. The dancers he passes are not here because they have nowhere else to go, in theory, and they are well-paid and watched over by Hanzo and his entourage of security staff.
And while he is still not entirely convinced, Zenyatta has to admit that the most profound sense of discomfort-come-relief that the place inspires within him comes when he finds the reception desk empty. He does not know if he is prepared- tonight, at least- to see the side of Hanzo more usually reserved for the Shimada clan and its kind.
With no plans to moonlace or appreciate the dancers twirling and grinding about their poles, Zenyatta takes himself to the bar. Perhaps he can be forgiven for not immediately recognising the bartender and his broad, strong back, turned to him as it is; it is rather dark in here, and he is distracted.]
gabe - an omnic walks into a bar
Obviously, he is far from innocent. He has seen brothels before, met the humans and omnics alike who staffed and frequented them- more often former, most of whom nursed decades-deep wounds and ill wishes in what was, inevitably, a place of harsh and inescapable necessity. But the very last thing he should do, he knows, is bring his own preconceptions into what he knows is meant to be an altogether different scenario. This place is perfectly voluntary. The dancers he passes are not here because they have nowhere else to go, in theory, and they are well-paid and watched over by Hanzo and his entourage of security staff.
And while he is still not entirely convinced, Zenyatta has to admit that the most profound sense of discomfort-come-relief that the place inspires within him comes when he finds the reception desk empty. He does not know if he is prepared- tonight, at least- to see the side of Hanzo more usually reserved for the Shimada clan and its kind.
With no plans to moonlace or appreciate the dancers twirling and grinding about their poles, Zenyatta takes himself to the bar. Perhaps he can be forgiven for not immediately recognising the bartender and his broad, strong back, turned to him as it is; it is rather dark in here, and he is distracted.]
Is Hanzo Shimada here at the moment?