Club Scene
Dec 15, 2017 0:58:52 GMT -6
Post by Vixen on Dec 15, 2017 0:58:52 GMT -6
Club Manager/Owner/Occasional Entertainer: Vixen
Partial Owner and Dance Manager: Tala
Male Entertainer / Assistant Manager: Ashe
Bartender: ?
DJ: ?
Bouncer: Nox with Arc; Quinn
You can't miss it, really. Located in the heart of Miisaa Avenue, it definitely stands out against the lack-luster landscape. where ones eyes may have become adjusted to the "Lovely" scenery of trees and...dirt and stuff, the Midnight Panther catches the eye of any passerby.
The Club itself is painted black, but it could never be lost against the darkness. Across the second floor of the building, high above the fenced in balcony, The Guilds name is scrawled out. The lettering is bright pink, and overshadowing the end letters lies a Cheshire feline face, only the glowing eyes and the fierce smile present.
How could one say no?
Getting closer, the view only gets better. High windows stretch up above the first floor, tinted so that only the silhouettes of the party-goes inside can be seen. Each window is an obnoxiously bright color, varying yellows, oranges, and pinks. The music is far-too-apparent, the pulsating noise echoing around the building. One you can feel it, of course, long before you hear it, but it only reels one in more.
So go in!
There's no (immediate) line! Just walk around to the right side of the building. Shrubbery lines the entire place, and this seems to be the only break in it. There is a small dirt lot around it, the lights illuminating it. Long metal pegs have been dug into the ground, as well as small water troughs. Is the party a bit much for your Equillion? He'll be safe here. Or, if you're planning for a much longer stay, you could always house him at our available stables, at the back of the lot.
Entering, the place looks surprisingly calm. The music still pounds, but those milling around inside don't seem to notice, or care. The room is obnoxiously white, with white tile floors, white walls, and the only clear windows in the building. White couches line the walls at even intervals, and people use them up accordingly. Some people are chatting excitedly, waiting for dates. Others, post-partiers, are laid out on them, eyes closed, tongues lagging.
How do you get into this place?
It's not hard to tell. Along the far wall, a chain of red ropes are hung, and civilians line up almost single-file. At the end, two (Wiurn? People? ) guard a giant door. The look each person over quickly, though no-one really knows what they're looking for. But whatever. Once approved, the partiers are free to enter.
Upon entering, it's almost recommended that you shield your eyes. The sheer madness of the room has been known to frighten, make seize, or turn off party-goers. The music that had seemed so loud and powerful outside only intensifies within. Between the dancing bodies, pounding music and flashing lights...it's, well, a lot.
There is a small cut in the room, the only available path in the room. One side leads to the dance floor, and the other to the bar. The room itself is a sight. It seems that part of the room is painted black, while the other is...Well Colorful? Panes of white glass are installed in the lights, floorboards and ceilings, and every few seconds on someone command, they change to different random colors. Don't bother looking for patterns here. Just go with the music.
The madness is despairingly apparent on the dance-floor. Old-fashion disco-style, the floor lights up with it's own rendition of the black-and-light color raving. Wild lights hung about the ceiling whirl and twist to the music, and it all has the intended effect. Bodies whirl about the floor, bumping, grinding, twisting and shaking. The entire thing almost screams "Drop your inhibitions here!"
And where is all this madness coming from? Up in the supposed "North" side of the building, a large platform stands. Tonight a DJ stands, her hands whirling about the controls, her body twisting to the music, her own drink in hand. Here, everyone has a party.
But one can never know what they'll find. One night it can be a rock band with more screaming than music, another night a rapper can come in, laying down rhymes with a disturbing professionalism.
But only the superhuman can dance forever. Eventually the stamina runs out and the body wails for a cool liquid. So, fight your way across the dance-floor to the other, er, side of the room. The party is still going on over here, but in it's own special way. A long silver gate officially separates the two sides, but one really wouldn't notice unless they really cared. Bathrooms are housed on either side of the building, located conveniently near the bar. All that alcohol has to go somewhere...
Working one's way over, they'd find that the rave coloring has continued on. Behind the bar, the same color-glass pattern continues on in one long pane, illuminating several SEVERAL types of liquids. The bar itself is long and black, with rows of stools for the go-getters to sit on. The barkeep is a powerful man, not totally "into" The scene. But he knows how to describe what's in a drink, and he knows how to nod at how hot the guy over there is.
Behind the bar are just rows and rows of red-topped circular tables with random black chairs somewhere near-bye. These chairs and tables once went together, but such goals have been long abandoned. Tuckered out dancers or rearing go getters litter the place, leaning against walls, slouched in chairs, being politely escorted off the tables.
Every once in a while a waitress can be seen, darting through the group of people, a drink in hand. Poor girl. She shuffles through the people, barking out the drinks name in an attempt to ind the lazy bugger who won't step up to the bar.
If the part life is getting to be too much, you have three options. You can go home, Go to the lounge, or scurry to the far side of the bar where two doors stand. One has "EMPLOYEES ONLY" Stamped in big red letters, and the other is an open stairway. A bouncer stands, guarding the door. It blocks the way to the staircase, quickly sniffing over the patron to make sure a lawsuit is avoided. If the person is judged sober enough to climb, they can make their way to the balcony.
The phrase "Stairway to Heaven" describes this somewhat. Despite the fact that the staircase is pained pitch-black with silver railing, as soon as the smell of cool night air reaches ones nose, it could easily be called heaven. The Balcony is wide and open, with only the bright pink letters high above adding any real color. Another silver gate surrounds the place. It's tall enough to lean over, but judging by the gazes of the bouncers in the corner, jumping isn't recommended. That, and those bushes aren't that thick.
A few lights and red-topped tables are out here, but the only real form of entertainment are the people around, and the echo of music downstairs. The view is beautiful from here, and one can easily see the lay of the land. The shadows of the partiers downstairs, the dirt lot, and finally the landscape. All trees...and stuff.