Dance Hall Nights

[Bridget]
Meet me at the Metro! Kristiana’s phone gets a text message sometime during the day. The Metro is a prominent night club at the north end of the Lake View area. Early Thursday night brings little in the way of crowds, but the music within is pretty kickin when Kristiana arrives. The street entrance is somewhat posh, and the interior is large enough to house large shows.

The guest DJ tonight is a girl named SuperDre, a dark-skinned young woman with a glorious mane of dark, frizzy curls tamed partially from her face by a set of silver and white headphones. Her simple white sundress is starkly set to glow by blacklight. A technicolor dreamscape of lights and sound radiate through the nightclub. In the back hosts a famous red-lined photo booth where groups too large for the small stall pile in for photographic evidence of their escapades.

Bridget is somewhere among the crowd, wearing glow-in-the-dark shutter shades, a neon white tee-shirt with a pastel-green-and-pink monster that declares I AM THE MONSTER UNDER YOUR BED, a pink sequin scarf accessory that looks about as functional as her shades, a smear of cotton-candy lipgloss, a leather miniskirt, and ragged Rodarte tights from the Kristiana collection (or swapped with someone for something she had) layered over another set of dark purple tights that are nearly black in this light.

She has a colorful-looking martini drink in her hand, her hair is tossed up with oodles of hairspray. She’s laughing, caught between a weird, bug-eyed, frizzy-haired Lebanese man wearing all black and a black hat that reads FUCK YOU in white; the other looks like he could be a football player, except he’s too well-dressed and has a sheen of fine glitter in his hair.

[Kristiana Coleman]
Krist is dressed in California club. Skin tight white jeans flare just slightly at the ankles, and are paired with silver platform heels that give her a full four inches over her normal height. The scrap of fabric that serves as a clingy half tank top matches the heels, and her hair is plaited into two braids that rest just over her shoulders. After making her way into the loud, throbbing bar she wiggles her way through the crowd, on the lookout for Bridg.

[Bridget]
The girl is not difficult to find. She’s pretty and charismatic enough that eventually, someone will try to get the boozehound away from the bar, she will tell him to shove off, and she goes in search of her friend, waving her drink over the crowd, set aglow slightly by the din of her tacky (but totally awesome) shades.

Bridg almost knocks into the pretty blonde. A quick spin and the girl shrieks with delight. It’s not obnoxious, it’s a quick shrill noise followed by a sort of glomping hug. A bit of her drink threatens to slosh over the sides, but doesn’t get quite close enough to spill.

“Hey dollface!”

[Kristiana Coleman]
“HI! I need a drink!” She’s apparently very familiar with the fine balance of yelling and hand gestures that are required to make oneself clear in a club environment. Grabbing Bridget’s arm, she pulls her along to the bar. “How long have you been here?”

[Bridget]
Duely noted, Bridget is yanked compliantly along towards the bar. They push through more people. The Canadian shrugs her shoulders in the dark. She came for a purpose: to get the hell out of the Broho and as far as she could think of from the intruding presence of Rage. Her Fellowship Sister was gracious enough to join her. In turn, the brat links arms with the sheltered rich girl.

A toned stomach presses flat against the bar rail while the feral-looking chit tries to grab the bartender’s attention. She gestures at her own drink, then to Kristiana.

“Two sea monkeys!” she shouts, then grabs at a wad of rolled-up bills in her boot, setting the nearly-empty martini glass on the bar. The muscular bartender continues looking appropriately indignant while he does his job, but he does try to throw a trick or two into the process.

Bridget rises gloriously after some fumbling with the platform heels (another of Kristiane’s, in all likelihood, or else it is a very lucky find from a thrift store). A slap brings the appropriate amount of money to cover both drinks plus tip.

[Kristiana Coleman]
“I’ll get the next one!” She nods, shouting over the music again and signaling for two more as soon as the first two are delivered. “What are they?”

[Sean Douglas-Pinkerton]
Like all prominent night clubs that cater to the entranced crowds that mob the floor, the VIP overlooked the floor. Thursday nights were not normally the most crowded, mostly packed with only hardcore clubbers and the college co-eds that wanted to drown out whatever learning they did for the week.

“Any one of them…”

Sean looked out at the crowd as the thrall moves and grinds to the beats that fill the floor. A couple of his friends snickering as if he was just being an ass, his closest friend, Bruce, knew better to say anything. But Harry, always one to jump at a bet in the making comes up to the railing, handing over another grey goose and red bull to Sean smirking.

“Anyone? How ’bout we test it eh? I choose, you bring her number in tomorrow at the office….

One of the guess chimed in “if he makes it in…” laughing once again.

Smirking Sean couldn’t help himself. “Deal.”

A challenge, a new thrill. “Which one shall it be?”

[Bridget]
The girl lifts the obnoxiously glowing shuttershades from her face so she can see. They go atop her head like some sort of nightclub tiara. Her hair, not the usual flyaway set of waves, is actually somewhat fitting, think a modern take on ’60s volume, without the virtual shield of hair, a bump, or a ridiculous beehive. Bed head done right. Her makeup is just a simple catseye and mascara without eyeshadow.

She finishes the first cocktail and nudges it away once their first drinks arrive. The bartender slides the money and the empty martini glass and is off again in a flash. Kristiana’s drink looks appropriately fruity, so it is likely potent.

Bridget laughs as she raises the next to her friend. “I have no idea,” she grins ear-to-ear, shrugging her shoulders to emphasize the statement.

[Kristiana Coleman]
She shrugs, drinking the thing down in a series of long gulps, then pushing her glass forward and waiting for another.

[Bridget]
Bridget drinks hers and slinks with her back against the bar. Her eyes go towards the stage and across the crowd.

[Kristiana Coleman]
“HEY!” She yells at the bartender, waving money at him and leaning on the bar. “How do you know about this place?” This, apparently directed at Bridget, as she leans into the other girl while saying it.

[Sean Douglas-Pinkerton]
The term agreed on and the wager set, Harry scans out the crowd, looking over one woman and then the next. Making sure to keep get the best possible target, he spots the glowing shades, like a lighthouse, calling to him.

“Agreed?”

But before Harry could finish his statement, Sean was down the stairs, making his way to the bar. He wasn’t hard on the eyes in the slightest, part of the reason he was so good at what he did, his suit jacket left upstairs, still dressed in his suit from the office. He gets to the bar, waving down the bartender for some drinks and some info, motioning at the Kristiana and Bridget as he drops a 50 on the counter top.

[Bridget]
Kristiana’s shouting breaks the girl’s daze. She tilts her head closer to Kristiana while still being able to watch SuperDre. The Canadian shrugs her narrow shoulders. She doesn’t notice the Glass of Water who flags them down, at first. She links arms with the blonde of similar lithe build.

“Don’t care,” she replies. “I had to get OUT of that place.”

[Kristiana Coleman]
“Because of Howard?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She makes her way through the front door, dressed about the same as she always does. Despite her propensity for a garish and over the top style, Sarita doesn’t get clubbed out for nightclubs…frankly, she really doesn’t have to. The duster is settled firmly on her lithe frame with a simple black tank top that reads “it’s not pms, it’s You” and matching color jeans underneath.

She pushes past a couple people, ignoring looks her way, and with a bit of a playful grin she makes her way toward the bar. Someone wants a drink.

[Bridget]
Garou… Can’t live with them, can’t– no, pretty much can’t live with them. Bridget might not feel quite like the other kinfolk because of her wildness, her mercurial mood swings and deep passions, she may have been raised among them, but she certainly will never feel truly welcome with the Wolves.

The brunette leans into the blonde, pulls her glowing shutter shades over her 60s catseye lids. The bartender returns at last with the drinks, Bridget takes hers and gives the other to Kristiana.

“Crazy! Il me rend fou.”

Anyone might guess by the sweeping motion of her spare hand that the girl is gesturing at the lovely DJ, but she isn’t. She shakes her head a couple times– which the glow makes her slightly dizzy– and then she slams back the martini and sets the glass aside.

This would be number three. She is a Fianna, but even those girls have their limits. She doesn’t notice the slight press of Rage coming from the Ragabash, not at first.

[Sean Douglas-Pinkerton]
Sean makes his way passed a few other people to get himself next to the pair of girls. His neon green looking drink in hand as he finally gets next to Bridget, leaning back against the bar as he tries to get her attention.

“Should’a seen her in Grand Rapids.”

His voice is intoxicating, even through the pulsating beats that echo across the room.

[Kristiana Coleman]
She knocks her fruity alcohol bomb back all at once again, the first one already seeping into her bloodstream. With as little as she’s used to drinking, two should be her limit. Whether or not she realizes this is another matter. The man talking to Bridget gets a slow once over, before she looks slightly guilty and forces her attention onto Bridget instead.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She sidles up to the bar, leaning over exceptionally well and attracting the bartender’s attention. She shouts something to him and gets a nod, then steps back and turns around, looking over the club. She notes Kristiana, Bridget and Sean a bit further down the bar and tilts her head a bit, watching them with a faint grin.

[Bridget]
A silky sound like milk-and-honey catches her attention. It’s difficult to tell what she’s staring at from behind the neon green glow of her plastic shutter shades, but her face is directed towards Sean. She squints while she thinks she notices Sarita. Bridget leans towards the handsome Whoever This Is, extends an arm to wave the Strider over.

She withdraws soon enough, turning with her back settled next to her Fellowship Sister, looking quite content based on her posturing. Shades point down, then back up.

“Yeah?” she doesn’t mention that she has No Clue where this mysterious place is located. It could be a city, could be a club for all she knows.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
The grin quirks and she shrugs, making her way down to the trio. Bridget and Kristiana get nods as she approaches. “S’up, chicas? Unexpected pleasant surprise. How’s it goin’?”

She looks at Sean for a second, giving him an appraising once-over and then a lopsided smile. “Hola.”

[Sean Douglas-Pinkerton]
“She tore the whole place down…”

He offers his hand to her, a polite smile as he made his introduction. Eyes moving over from Bridget to Kristiana, then back to Bridget.

“Sean.”

But in the middle of the exchanging pleasantries, something seemed to shoot up his spine, a shock of recognition that he hasn’t felt in some time. Unsure of where it was coming from he opted to ignore it, even if that feeling still lingered. Old scars and unsettled wounds.

[Kristiana Coleman]
“Hi Sean!” She is VERY cheery, adding a wave as she beams at him.

[Bridget]
Bridget stares at the hand, wiggles her nose, then looks back at his face. After a second, she returns the gesture.

“Bridget. You shake hands at a club?”

Just then, he loses some of his bravado–or something– and Kristiane nudges against her back. This draws laughter from the Canadian, who leans her head back towards her girl. The long stretch of her neck is exposed, the green and pink cartoon monster on her shirt proclaims its identity.

She brings herself upright after giggling, then touches Kristiana’s shoulder, then gestures to the stranger.

“This is Kris.”

[Kristiana Coleman]
“Hi!” The alcohol is already hitting her, and hitting her hard.

[Sean Douglas-Pinkerton]
He downs the rest of the neon green mixture that makes up his drink and leaves the glass on the bar top. He couldn’t help it the rage might have been minimal, but he remembers what happened last time he dealt with… them.

“Can’t help it, seems only polite.”

He looks over at Kristiana again, a light smirk crosses his lips.

“Can I get you ladies another drink?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She quirks an eyebrow as her greeting to Sean is ignored, and turns as the bartender brings over her order…which looks to be several shots. She winks at him and nods, lining them up and knocking one back.

[Kristiana Coleman]
“Yes!” She nods rapidly, slipping into flirt mode without really thinking about it or meaning to.

[Bridget]
“Sure thing,” she says, then makes herself laugh again. “Oh, oh!”
“This is Sarita,” Bridget points to the slightly taller, dusky-skinned Hispanic woman behind him.

[Sean Douglas-Pinkerton]
to Sarita Ecos de la Risa
(Sorry, I missed your post when I Pm’ed myself a roll)

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
to Sean Douglas-Pinkerton
[[No prob. 🙂 I’m not annoyed, she is.]]

[Sean Douglas-Pinkerton]
Turning to Sarita.

“Hola.”

Almost instinctualy he doesn’t meet eyes with her. Maybe he recognizes exactly where the rage is coming from, or maybe he is just trying to suppress the thought as a recurring nightmare. His let hand pulling out a Grant as he waves it at the bartender.

“So what can I get you ladies?”

The situation seemed to get tougher, but nothing was impossible.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She looks over quickly and gives a big wink, smile and thumbs up like she’s posing for a 1950’s print ad or something. Truth be told, it’s the same look she gave during her junior high yearbook photo. It mellows into a regular-sized grin, dark eyes flashing in amusement, and she downs another shot while playing observer.

[Bridget]
Bridget shrugs her shoulders and blinks a few times. The alcohol is affecting her already, clearly.

“We were having Sea Monkeys, but I have to slow down. A bit. Honestly, I’m fine with a Blue Moon.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She takes note of Bridget’s state and chuckles, giving the kin a little nudge with her elbow.

“I know someone who’s not driving herself home tonight.”

[Sean Douglas-Pinkerton]
“And for you Sarita?”

He could feel Sarita eyes on him, maybe it was the alcohol that was impairing his judgment, or the constant thrum of the music that kept him from pinpointing her as the source of rage. Turning to the bartender seemingly waiting on his order, unlike he does with others. Ordering up the drinks for himself, Bridget and Kristiana.

[Bridget]
Her redneck is showing. At least she didn’t order a fuckin’ Pabst. A nudge. The Glow points in the direction of the Strider Ragabash. Up to her face. Bridget chuckles again.

“Oh, you’re so silly. I don’t have a car,” she admits.

How she gets around is one of those great mysteries of the universe, but the Canadian isn’t revealing all her dirty little secrets just yet. Her state is decreasingly less sober, but that’s somewhat expected. She needs to forget, needs to shake off her stress, the chill of Rage, the frustration of simply Being. Garou have rough, harsh lives, but Kinfolk must survive it, endure the horror and pain, the duty and constant thankless responsibilities, the threats, and sometimes… the abuse.

Bridget loops an arm around the teetering, giggling Trust Fund daughter, finding some comfort. The cacophony of sound is another welcome addition, with the floating of her brain marinating in vodka and fruit juice.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
“I got my drinks for the night, thanks.” She waves her hand over the four remaining shots she has. Her Rage isn’t as radiant as most of Gaia’s warriors; that could possibly be contributing to Sean’s lack of narrowing it down to her. She takes a sideways lean on the bar, fishing a hand-rolled cigarette out of her pocket and putting it in her mouth.

“Of course, if you’re buying ’em, I won’t complain none.” She gives a chuckle and a shrug.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She laughs at Bridget’s response. “Well, good for that, in tonight’s case at least.”

[Sean Douglas-Pinkerton]
“Its no problem.”

He motions to the bartender as his fingers circle around at the shots lined up at the bar, nodding to him as he changes the 50 for a 100 bill. Passing the drinks back to the pair of women and as Bridget seems to become pals with Sarita, he moves over and starts up some small talk with Kris.

[Bridget]
Bridget unlinks with Kristiana and scoots over with Sarita. She simply leans her lithe form against the Garou’s and places the side of her head against her shoulder. At some point, the Glow focuses up towards her, but really more like towards the ceiling.

“You should give me your number, so we can ….FUMAR.” A cognate stands out to her, maybe Cordie’s native tongue is rubbing off a bit.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
“Fumar?” She smiles and shakes her head, putting her arm around the kin’s shoulder and settling a hand on the opposite one. It’s a simple and congenial gesture, a friendly attempt to stabilize Bridget so that she doesn’t lose balance and fall. She reaches with her free hand and takes one of her shots, knocking it back.

“Yeah, I can do that. I tend to keep stocked, for personal as well as business.” She fishes into her pocket and comes out with her cell. “Gimme your number, I’ll text you and then you got mine.”

[Bridget]
The kinfolk reaches for a pen to no avail. She looks around the bar– yeah, fat chance– then to Sean. He looks like the type maybe to carry a pen? Bridget taps his shoulder and leans towards the handsome, silver-tongued devil.

“Sean, do you have a pen?”

[Sean Douglas-Pinkerton]
When Bridget and Kristiana unlink, he moves in to create a private conversation between the two of them, letting the other two girls start to gossip or what not. He puts some more money on the bar top as he gets another two drinks for them.

The thrill starting to dim, until Bridget acknowledged them again.

“Err.. sure.”

Quickly fishing through his pockets, he finally finds a silver pen engraved with his name along the side. Sean Douglas-Pinkerton

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She grins. That works too. She tilts her head, watching as Bridget retrieves the pen and gives Sean an appreciative nod.

[Bridget]
The young woman leans in close, lifts her shades again. She gives Sean a hazy look like the good little heartbreaking Frenchie she is. Her hand reaches for the pen, brushing her fingers against his. It’s just a brief contact before she takes the pen, lightly grabs a napkin from the bar, scrawls her number down, and hands it to Sarita, who asked for it.

As for Sean? She places the pen on top of her right ear and stares at him.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She takes the number, looking it over before slipping it into her pocket and then programming it into her phone. She then sends off a text of “This is Sarita’s number. She wants you to program it into me” and pockets the phone. It’s all done surprisingly effectively with just the one hand, her other hand staying as a stabilizing force on Bridget’s shoulder.

[Sean Douglas-Pinkerton]
He whispers something into Kris ear once more as he downs another shot with her smiling an all too charming smile before looking back at Bridget and Sarita. A little bit of a gloss-over has gotten into his eyes. Normally he could hold his licqour. Just not tonight.

“Would you like another drink?”

[Bridget]
Bridget in fact swoons over into Sarita with a giggle. She takes Kris by the arm and hauls her off to the dance floor to shake the stress off. There may or may not be more drinks in tow. The girls shriek and move to the rhythm. Unfortunately, they abandon the two there.

[Sorry guys, it’s way past my bedtime, I have to get going before I pass out on y’all.]

[Bridget]
[Thx for the scene]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
[[Yeah, kinda late for me too. Thanks for the scene!]]

[Sean Douglas-Pinkerton]
to Sarita Ecos de la Risa
(cool its like 3am for me. We can call it a scene)

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
to Sean Douglas-Pinkerton
[[Sounds good. Thanks much and have a good night!]]

Advertisements