Flower Streets
A state-tolerated red-light district, formerly operated by the Church of Elwynn and prohibited by Vanic Elwynn. Discretely revived after the Kalirion Fracture as a state monopoly during the Principate of Frederik Haabye Truls, the Flower Streets were passed into the custody of the Guild of the Lotus to operate as self-policing walled neighbourhoods in return for an annual contribution of 40% of gross profits to the coffers of the bailiwick in their area of operation.
An account of the Flower Streets in the era of the Coordinated State
The theory is that Roqpin should discharge all the frustrations and tensions accumulated during the course of a year, negating the basis upon which demand for such services could be based and rendering the so-called oldest profession null and void. This does not workout in practice, particularly for those who do not have a happy Roqpin. It is generally recognised that seeking to eliminate the demand for prostitutes is futile, as vice functions in much the same way as a sewer; without it the city would drown quickly in the cumulative filth of the habitually depraved populace.
There is a certain awkwardness however in availing of the services of a prostitute or catamite in a demonetised economy. Self-to-Self transfers of Theoretical Florins are available as a facility for any person who has a fully-authorised Entitlement Card. These transactions however are conducted electronically and as such are recorded and are auditable by the Hall of Allocations and the Guilds, an invidious situation for a potential client to find himself in. Bartering is another possibility however portable goods of sufficient value and quantity tend to be conspicuous – with the result again that awkwardness attends swiftly upon the prospective client. Attempting to solicit services with contraband currency on the other hand is an even worse option since it invites the full fury of the Panopticon Department to come crashing down upon the hapless pervert.
Happily the Church of Elwynn proved to be an unexpected saviour in dark times. From its earliest origins as a refuge for fallen women in the Bailiwick of Târâshahr, the Church sponsored the creation of Flower Streets (luuluruqu) in every city and township of the Coordinated State, at the entrance to which stood a temple to Truth and Beauty. The happy and pious supplicant, cheerfully greeted by the priestess of the Goddess makes a profuse and doubtless sincere gesture of adoration to the priestess and in return receives an orchid garland, a candle and a sachet of powdered incense. Somehow during the time it has taken to make the down and receive the bestowed tokens of religiosity, the visitors Entitlement Card has been discretely swiped and charged for an appropriate donative, doubtless one that is pleasing to the Goddess Elwynn herself.
The garlanded worshipper proceeds with a suitable reverend awe to the alter upon which the Holy Icon is set. Doubtless it depicts some worthy scene intended to turn ones thoughts towards the sublime. Of Elwynn, she of the serene disposition, repulsing with contemptuous ease the lecherous advances of her besotted brother Lest. Perhaps, perchance, her bosom is depicted as being exposed – no matter – it is enough of a common place in devotional art that only the scurrilously minded would think ill of it. The awed worshipper kneels before the alter, doubtless his eyes now transfixed by the transcendent beauty of that holy art which surpasses all understanding. A puff of incense dropped into a convenient brazier, the candle fixed with melted wax before the alter – so many candles, truly popular piety is more pronounced than it has ever been – a few murmured words of appropriate incantation, and it is done. The worshipper exits stage right, processing round the alter, bowing to the icon with every second step...
Until he finds himself in a fair gabled street with the distinct aroma of chrysanthemums lingering lightly in the evening airs, the sky slowly darkening towards twilight. It is a row of storied houses, seven on each side – the auspicious number. Outside each is hung a red paper lantern, on which is written in black ink a ritual blessing 'Long Life, Happiness, Fecundity'. It is a tea-house, one of many, each specialising in a different flavour. The gentleman approaches – at the door he is met by the hostess. Sun Bless, Earth Keep, Truth and Beauty Warm. The usual polite meaningless greetings that bestow a certain cod piety, the simulacrum of probity. Nervously, he smiles and, a little too practised, she smiles in return. Remembering himself, the Gentlemen takes from around his neck the garland that the priestess had bestowed and passes it to the hostess who smiles once more, congratulates the generous-giver on his piety and hangs the garland upon a hook, from which a dozen other garlands also hang, before inviting the gentleman inside to join her and her companions for tea.
That is not to say that this idealised picture is not without its squalid aspects. It is not to be forgotten that few would chose these circumstances immediately through choice and the Church itself is not insulated from the charge of hypocrisy that attends upon its practices. Yet this polite fiction permits conditions that are more favourable within the Flower Street than without. Cared for, protected and permitted to order their own affairs, the prostitutes and catamites fare better than they might have done otherwise. Corrupt and complacent the Church might be, it does however at least have the decency to look after its own. For those who have left behind dark and damaged lives the demons that tormented them lie still outside the gates, waiting to get in – to snatch back their wares, the chattel once kept in their thrall that guaranteed an easy living.
They wait, and sometimes they try their luck. The pimps and the abusive clients, sometimes they make their way onto the Flower Street. Seldom do they make the return journey. It is often remarked that the pigs on certain Church-administered municipal farms appear to be exceedingly well fed.
