The 9th Circle (By Invitation)

SOMEWHERE IN HONG KONG...

Accessible only by invitation, the 9th Circle is located under The Hotel. While the above ground establishment caters to Triad, Mafia and Yakuza bosses, it is the 9th Circle that caters to an exclusively metahuman crowd, a crowd comprising of a certain type of individual that some pop-culture philosophers as 'Lawful Evil', though as long as one has been invited and abides by the 9th Circle's rules, one may enter, be entertained and conduct their business in privacy and security.

Accessible through a hidden door in a dead-end corridor of the main Hotel, a single elevator whisks the client down to the 9th Circle. There they will be ushered into the grand foyer, as a coat lady receives a guest's effects and weapons, and an attendant double checks their identity. Once cleared they are welcomed in through automated doors gilded with gold filigri.

9TH CIRCLE
FEATURED THIS WEEK: Pickman's Art Exhibit

Built in a roughly circular layout, featuring an upper mezzanine gallery and the establishment proper below, the 9th Circle is a vast space where the temperature is kept at freezing to maintain the ice floor, and the lights are dimmed to offer a more ... intimate and discrete ambience.

the artist Pickman's macabre art hangs in the upper mezzanine gallery for public viewership, the scenes he paints told to disturb even the most jaded souls and stir even those who should have no such reactions whatsoever. Meanwhile, a fair number of renowned individuals are seated in the booths of the establishment below, some booths having their curtains closed to keep their prolictivites... discreet. Save for direct violence against other clientel or disturbing the peace, Nothing is forbidden at the 9th Circle, no matter how depraved, like how a certain group of cephalopod faced humanoids were receiving a tray of human victims. The wait staff close their curtains, to permit them privacy.

A few clients wore climate appropriate gear, but for the most part the creatures who paced the icy lounge were those who found freezing temperatures trivial. Such as a pale woman in a cocktail dress wearing a curious dark necklace and shades, sipping mundane whiskey at the bar, and the dapper, debonaire bartender who mixed drinks for other individuals with higher body counts than most tyranical regimes.

"Another whiskey miss Tenebrios?" The bartender asked the pale woman.

"Of course, Floyd." She replied, passing her glass to be filled once more.