FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"You... you're sure this is the place?"

"No doubt about it. Nice, isn't it?"

The neon sign sprawls over the building and reads "Le Rongeur Masque," in a swooping cursive script, ending in the bust of a mousey woman peeking over it in a coquettish smirk and a wink that turns on and off with regular intervals.

Cream's face is washed with the light of the night, and the young woman, only 18 for a few months now, finds herself staring at the building with her heart beating heavily in her chest.

"What's the matter?" asks Amy Rose, her companion, draping an arm over the rabbit's shoulder. "You'd bang your bestie in an amusement park, but you won't go into an adult club? Come on. Live and learn a little!"

"It's... It's not that," Cream says, gulping. "It's just... I want to know what my momma is up to when she comes to Station Square, but... could she be going to a place like this... could she be... working at a place like this?"

The hedgehog grabs the rabbit by the hand, leading her up to the main entrance. "Well, there's only one way to find out, and that's to go in head-first!"

Standing in the doorway is a mountain of a rat, his muscled form threatening to rip free of the suit he wears. He stares down at the two women, who wouldn't reach his face if they stood atop each other's shoulders, and quirks an eyebrow from behind his shades.

"Wow," Cream mutters to herself, "Talk about thug..."

"No kids allowed," the rat grunts, folding his arms over his chest.

"No, it's fine," Amy says, patting Cream's head. "She's legal, even if she's still embarrassed to try new things."

The rabbit's cheeks burn, staring up at the massive rodent before her with a fury in her eyes. She whips out her wallet from her purse and flashes her ID at him. "See? I'm 18!"

"Lucky you," the rat says, thumbing in the direction of the door. "Enjoy your time in the club, but don't even think about trying to purchase any drinks. That goes for you too, missy."

Amy grumbles, rubbing her eyes. "Okay, fine, I'm 24 years old, but I'm accompanying a teen. I got it, I got it."

The two inside and once there, they idea that this is some seedy dive instantly disappears from their minds. The thump of music fills the air, bouncing around inside of Cream's core. The place is brightly-lit, but the colors flash and change to the beat of the music. There are stages scattered throughout the club, where half-or-less dressed Mobians shake their stuff for the enjoyment of Mobians and humans alike.

"Well, I don't see miss Vanilla anywhere," Amy says, her gaze following another hedgehog as she makes her way with a tray of drinks. "So, looks like my intel may have been a bit off... unless of course, she comes here as a client and not a worker. Maybe we can ask some people if they've seen her or something. Most importantly, though, you can't forget to have fun. I'm paying tonight, so if you want to have a little private time with one of the dancers, I'm game to let ya have a go."

"I don't know which is worse," Cream says, glancing about the dance room as she makes her way towards some of the seats. "If I'm in the same place my momma gets her kicks or if she gives the goods to people here to pay for us."

"Sometimes, we find things that we least expect," Amy says, stepping off towards the bar.

With the lights flashing and the loud noises, it's really difficult for a newcomer to make their way through such a treacherous place, and Cream finds her toe catching on something. She flails her arms and falls forward, reaching out for the first thing she can grab onto. Unfortunately for her, it's the bra of a nearby worker. The two of them crash into the floor with the sounds of glass shattering and patrons screeching in surprise.

Amidst the woman's cries of pain, Cream scrambles to her knees. She see the dark red liquid covering both her clothes and the Mobian before her--a black and white butterfly who stares down at a broken bottle with her eyes wide and mouth agape.

"W... what the fuck were you doing, you dumb kid!?" The butterfly yelps, cupping the broken bottle in her hands. "Do you know how expensive this shit is? It's going to come out of my pay."

"S... sorry, miss, I didn't mean to, ah!"

Cream finds herself dangling in the air as she's lifted by her hoodie by the massive rat bouncer.

Cream goes full-on prey mode with her eyes wide and freezing at the sight of the danger. There really is nothing she can do as he carries her off and away from the mess, past the silenced dancers and bartenders, who all avert their gaze.

The back rooms of the establishment are dark and dingy, and they betray more of the seedy look that Cream was initially anticipating. Obviously, the owner doesn't spend much money on making the back of the house as flashy as the public-facing portion of the business.

The bouncer drops her, leaving her to cower in a corner in her wine-stained hoodie.

"Mister... what are you going to do to me?" She asks, wrapping her arms around her knees. "I didn't mean to break anything, I promise!

The beefy rat reaches out, and Cream winces, but when she doesn't feel the grasp of his claws around her throat, she opens an eye up to see him pulling the nearby door open, motioning her with his other hand in a sweeping motion to enter.

Cream picks herself up, her ears perked just slightly as she peeks her face through the door, wriggling her nose in gentle curiosity.

Sitting at a wooden desk inside a dimly-lit office is a sharply-dressed rat, twirling his whiskers with his fingers and snickering at her with this crimson eyes. "Well, girlie, you got yourself in quite a pinch, and now, you've got to pay."