here's a few i like (or am proud of):
Brick City Shaolin[ Spoiler ]
A collection of microtronics and wires hooked and nailed to brick walls buried a full ten meters below the streets of Redmond buzzes, then starts into a low-fidelity set of Buddhists chants scratch-mixed with a recording of one of the Ghost Dance ceremonies from back in '10. Warriors mix dyes and paint their shaved foreheads with Apache spirit markings. In one corner, a small grab-bag of hardbody metatypes practice tomahawk chops using southern-style kung fu maneuvers. Metal tubes thrust through the brick walls into the buried garbage dump beyond cast pale methane light on the faded yellow double-lines that run down the center of the dojo's floor, the underside of the ferrocrete overpass roof, and the graffiti-splashed heavy brick that is the only remnant of a business park that Seattle shed like a snakeskin. On one of the walls, some long-dead ganger stencilled "Brick City Shaolin" in flaking spraypaint, back when the wall was part of a building that stood in the sun. In the half-light of the Ork Underground, the tag glows like neon.
Master Yoo doesn't teach kung fu, Shaolin or otherwise. He claims not to have enough experience with it, though he's far too advanced in the Hung Ga style he favors to get any use out of Master Wei's Crane style classes. What Master Yoo says, goes; he founded the dojo, and nobody's been able to kick his ass yet and claim it from him. People say Standing Fox—he refuses to answer to "Master"—is supposed to be the better fighter, but Standing Fox doesn't speak or fight except to teach, so who knows.
Between the three of them, Brick City Shaolin teaches almost every major martial art in the world, to greater or lesser degrees, backed up by a mish-mash of oriental and amerind ritual and philosophy. Underground rumor says that some of the hidden cracks and crevices lead to secret rooms, where the masters teach a chosen few students the secret techniques they know.
The Hollow Point[ Spoiler ]
About a half a block up from the Crime Mall sits the refuse-littered grounds of The Hollow Point. It's garbage-strewn lot almost always has a few battered old trucks and jeeps sitting in it, along with the usual bottles and discarded chips, a few bums and a whore or two. The standard trash left lying around Puyallup.
It's a rather nondescript brick building, with bars on the windows, and a few flickering neon signs. They advertise almost every alcohol known to man, from SoyBud to TrogLager, with all the harsh light of a Vegas strip. The largest one is in glaring blue, simply proclaiming The Hollow Point to be the name of the place. A human and an ork man the front door, both in t-shirts with 'bouncer' scrawled across the front, and both packing obvious heavy pistols. The shorter of the two has a baseball bat casually leaned up against the wall near him, too. The larger one has a nametag that reads "Hi, my name is: Five Nuyen Cover."
Nothing fancy, nothing pretentious. It's the heart of the Barrens, don't forget. Welcome to The Hollow Point.
Dragon Temple Non Therapeutic Massage Parlor[ Spoiler ]
The pink neon sign used to say "and Bathhouse," too, but that bit of neon long-ago died off, the victim of vandalism, faulty wiring, or perhaps simply shoddy craftsmanship and cracked glass. There's little about the Dragon Temple that would make it seem any of those options are any less viable than others.
The building itself is as dirty and busily colorful as the rest of Chinatown. Bars cover the windows, even the large front display one (taking up nearly half the building's face), where a bored-looking teen sits on a ragged plush chair, scantily clad and occasionally remembering it's her job to wiggle at, and in doing so entice, those passing by.
The door is closed, metal, and heavy. There's a small slot with a (presumably) sliding cover at -- you guessed it -- roughly eye-height on your average human. The building's brick surfaces aren't devoid of the usual graffiti found in most of the Sprawl, but there's one mark that seems predominant over all the others, marking the building as protected and claimed; canny viewers may recognize it as the symbol of one of the strongest Triad-affiliated gangs, the White Tigers.