Become a stripper

You search around the private room, finding a discarded outfit that must belong to one of the dancers—a collection of leather straps that form something between lingerie and bondage gear. The glowing green edges pulse with chemical enhancement, designed to react to body heat and movement.

"This'll work perfectly," you giggle, slipping Jinx's lithe body into the provocative ensemble. The leather straps frame her small breasts perfectly, while others wrap around her waist and thighs, leaving strategic areas exposed. You check your reflection in a cracked mirror—the outfit contrasts beautifully with Jinx's pale skin and electric blue hair.

"Where are you going?" Vixen asks, still recovering on the bed, her augmented eyes cycling through curious blues.

"To give these fine folks a show they'll never forget!" you declare, blowing her a kiss before skipping out of the room.

The main floor of The Toxic Spill pulses with the rhythm of industrial Zaunite music—all grinding gears and hissing steam samples punctuated by electronic beats. A dancer is just finishing her routine as you approach the stage, her movements sluggish with exhaustion.

"My turn!" you announce, pushing past her and leaping onto the platform. The crowd murmurs in surprise and excitement as they recognize Jinx—the infamous loose cannon of Zaun—strutting toward the pole.

"Is that—?"

"Holy shit, it's Jinx!"

"This is gonna be trouble..."

You grab the pole with both hands, testing its stability before swinging yourself around it with unexpected grace. Jinx's body may be chaotic in personality, but her muscles remember the acrobatics required for her usual mayhem. You hook one leg around the pole and lean back, letting your blue pigtails dangle as you spin slowly.

"Who wants to see the Loose Cannon get even looser?" you call out, and the crowd erupts in whistles and cheers.

The DJ quickly catches on, switching the music to something more frenetic to match your energy. You climb the pole with surprising agility, then slide down in a controlled descent that makes the crowd gasp. Your new outfit's chemical embellishments react to your body heat, pulsing brighter with every movement.

"This is better than blowing shit up!" you exclaim as you hang upside down, using only your thighs to grip the pole. "Well... almost!"

As you spin and writhe, you notice the other dancers watching with a mixture of professional assessment and concern. One heavily augmented woman with mechanical arms whispers to the bouncer, who shrugs helplessly. Nobody wants to be the one to tell Jinx to stop.

You drop to all fours, crawling toward the edge of the stage where several patrons hold out chem-credits. You collect them with your teeth, giving each benefactor a wink or a playful bite.

"That's right, pay up for the privilege!" you cackle, stuffing the bills into the straps of your outfit.

When you return to the pole, you execute a perfect spin that transitions into a split, demonstrating flexibility you didn't know Jinx possessed. The crowd goes wild, throwing more credits onto the stage.

"I should've tried this years ago!" you shout over the music, your body glistening with sweat that makes the luminescent tattoos on Jinx's skin seem to swim across her flesh.