2009-11-04: Share The Love



Date: Nov. 4, 2009


The Club-Goers at DNA learn the merits of getting high, as well as explore the New York social caste system.

"Share The Love"

New York City - Club DnA

The club is always jumping but it doesn't come alive until after midnight, when the combination of liquor and drugs sends even the wallflowers out onto the dancefloor to grind together in a celebration of young flesh and good times. The speakers are thumping with a heavily remixed version of Katy Perry's "Hot'n'Cold" and up on the balcony, the purveyors of at least half of the good mood in the place are observing their handiwork.

As has become a custom for them, Lena and Tiago have staked out a small table in some dark corner. They don't intend solitude, it is more a matter of discretion. A stream of merrymakers comes and goes, speaking with one or the other of the pair, exchanging cash for squares of blotter paper in an assortment of cheerful colors. Business has been exceptional. In a spare moment, Lena has fetched up against the railing, arms folded against the cool metal. Her gloves are off, a smile's claimed her lips and her eyes…those show nothing but satisfaction.

The brunette's opinion of the scene below can be summed up in two words.

"Fuck yeah."

Tiago approaches Lena in a slow deliberate way, a bottle of beer in hand and the brightest of expressions gracing his features. He slinks through the crowd, before turning to lean up against that railing in an oh so casual way, peering out into the crowd with something akin to pride sparkling in his eyes. "I haven't bought my own alcohol in a bar in like…what, 4 days now? I'm so fuckin' good." He preens, mostly to himself rather than to Lena. "It's been a good week for us, huh? Say, why don't we jus' give it a break for the night. I dunno, jus' have fun with it. You can put on your emo gloves and we'll go dance and shit, it'll be a good time."

What exactly /does/ a professional slacker do on one of her nights off after a day's questionable labor at her employer's electionics store? Well, considering she'd finally gotten her first legal identification card after having finally acquired a semi-permanent address here in the city, Jade Eastley had decided to put it to good use. When her employer had offered to show her a local young person's hotspot, the teen had agreed immediately, figuring it was as good a way as any to spend her barely-earned money.
At the door, she was detained longer than most by the bouncers guarding the entrance, who confiscated her identification card and replaced it with a brightly-colored paper bracelet on her wrist to serve as a deterent for her obtaining alcohol within. She was warned as she entered that if she didn't return to reclaim her ID, or tried to and wasn't wearing her bracelet or smelled of alcohol, it would be turned over to the police. As she made her way into the area proper, she examines the device attached just above her hand.
"Strict enough? Fuckers."
It seemed her choices of where to go from here were somewhat limited: to the dance floor, to find a seat, or to the stairs leading up to the balcony, the bar itself was all but useless to her unless she actually became thirsty. She points mildly towards the stairs.
"I'mma get a better view."

A couple paces behind Jade, the aforementioned employer (Randall) goes through the same drill, minus the lecture - but he gets an earful of hers, and that alone is enough to start the night off on the wrong foot for him. "God, I know," he says to her, once they're safely out of earshot. "All the weird shit goes down in this city, and he's still reading from the playbook from Omaha, Nebraska? Either he's new or he sure does like waving his dick around."

As she heads for the stairs, he nods and heads for the bar. "Catch up with you later." He was gonna buy her a round, even - he is indeed a mellow employer, the only sort who would put up with her for more than a week - but unless (a) she finds some breath mints or (b) Power Trip goes off duty, that doesn't seem to be in the cards.

It's after midnight and everything is turning up love, at least in Hallis' world. The flock has gathered and is making their way toward the front door, it's a good thing that the society page buys a ticket right in, only those kind of people wait. You know the ones, they don't have money? And so, the set of four get waved right in, Power Trip likes his job, so he doesn't bother carding any of them. No pink bracelets for this under age set.

Chelsae, Mitsy, Olivia, and Hallis, all make their way into the club, sort of like the new generation of Sex in the City girls, except these ones are not desperate for sex, just attention. Just behind them is the reason they are there, Soleil, the popular actress turned singer, turned back to actress (and their friend since forever ago) has turned up in the city looking for a good time.

It is up the stairs for them, and into the VIP room where they can watch the dirt of the city dance and get their groove on, all to the tune of Olivia's cackle and Chelsea's pointing. "Oh gawd, look at that guy, is he wearing… TWEED?! Hah!"

"Trying to make me jealous?" Lena looks nothing of the sort, flashing a sidelong grin instead at her partner in crime. She pushes off of the railing and reaches up to press her sweaty palm to Tiago's cheek. Hey, it's hot in here and the brunette's never claimed to be a lady. "No gloves tonight, I think. Let's share the love, light this shit up. Rent's covered!" That is indeed cause to celebrate. The little emo punk goth whatever she is slides around the Brazilian man and strolls along the balcony. As she goes, her hands trail out to the sides, allowing coincidental contact to spread the sort of bright and happy atmosphere that guarantees a good party.

Dani steps into the club and scans the area for a moment before he starts to make his way through the crowd towards the bar. He weaves through the crowd of dancing patrons, offering muttered apologies as he passes by them and the occasional nod to those he should happen to know.

Tiago quirks his eyebrow skywards in a smug fashion, dipping his head lower to pin Lena with a bemused look. "Jealous? Nah. I wouldn't /try/, I'd either make ya jealous or not, babe." With this assertion given, he takes in a deep breath and even closes his eyes to indulge in the euphoria Lena's bare hands bring. And as that tingling, light-headed sensation overwhelms him, his grin grows. "Yeah…yeah! Let's share the love!" Suddenly infused with a new sort of energy, his eyes snap open as she draws away. The beer is lifted to his mouth, summarily chugged, and then placed on the table beside him before he takes off.

Tiago isn't exactly chasing after Lena, but he certainly is making his way through the crowd, heading in the direction of the general populace. And along the way, he is spreading the love alright, grinning and beaming, patting the occasional derriere. Generally being the giant boy that he is.

"Yeah, I won't be hard to find. Look for the only sober S.O.B. in the entire place."
For a girl who'd already been on her own for several years, the thought of being denied something due to her age really irritated her, especially since she was still three years away from being able to purchase said drinks herself without the aid of false identification.
She's in the process of clomping up the stairs on her way to the balcony when she's brought to a halt almost by virtue of being bowled over by a much larger man lunging for one who was barely bigger than she herself was. Apparently one of the patrons had gotten into a bit too much of a good time and was now being 'kindly asked to leave' by one of the roving security giants. As the trouble-maker is summarily carted down the stairs, lifted off of his feet in a rather unbreakable full-nelson by Mr. Muscles, Jade flattens herself against the rail to let them by, still managing to get a foot to her shin for her troubles. With a growled expletive, she bends down to rub the offended spot before finally making the landing.
She doesn't get too far before a hand passes over her bare arm, somewhere in the vicinity of her shoulder, causing her to turn in the direction and find a dark-haired brunette passing by with her hands kind of held out at a weird angle. "Hey, what the-!? Touchy-feely much?"

Meanwhile, down by the line for the bar, Randall reaches the front - ducking to one side to let Dani slip past - and orders 'one of whatever that is,' pointing to a blue-tinted bottle on display but with its label turned the wrong way. The bartender, having received some far stranger requests earlier, doesn't bat an eye at this one.

Hallis' eyes follow Chelsea's finger to spy the man in tweed, then they drift a few people to the side where she spies the spiral brown curls of a familiar face. She elbows Mitsy and points down to the bar and catches her lower lip between her teeth to hide her growing smile. "Look Mits, it's Randall. Who do you think he's here with?" Immediately Mitsy gasps and is off like a cackling hen to the rest of the chic set… and Soliel, trying to find out. Olivia is satiated to know that Mister New John Meyer didn't think enough of Hallis to keep her more than a night, not that Hallis cares.

You think?

The young blonde is dressed to kill in a frock that could be considered painted on. In fact, there are some places where it is painted on. Liquid Latex is a wonderful thing. And so, Hallis makes her way down the stairs, only to brush past the same set of hands that just touched Miss Pink Bracelet. She turns to narrow her eyes at the woman, not recognizing her at all, and then continues down the stairs. Gliding up beside Randall, she ends up being pressed tightly against him as the crowd rushes to one side. "Well helloooooo Randall," she purrs, giving him (most of) a winning smile. Where it's true she did ditch him a block or two from the restaurant, she's quite sure he'd be willing to forgive. Hey, she is Hallis.

Lena, who has the unpleasant distinction of being The Only Other Sober Person in the club, pauses to cock her head at Jade. But, unlike the other girl, she is in a far better mood. For once. "Yeah, sorry about that. It's fucking crowded in here, isn't it?" Blue eyes swing lazily down to take in a few pertinent details before returning to the girl's face. "Don't worry, you're cute and all but I don't swing that way. He does, though?" she suggests impishly, indicating the neaby figure of Tiago with a gesture.

Tiago happens to be wading through the sea of people with a broad grin, although the flash of one particular head seems to trigger an expression of blatant horror on his visage. With eyes wide and his body tensed, he gapes unattractively across the bar to the flighty person that is Soliel, serving as a /brilliant/ first impression for young Jade. Immediately after spotting Soliel, Tiago jumps into action. He crouches down, attempting to get lost in the crowd, and hones in on Lena's person, heading for her all the while panicking. "Fuck! He exclaims as he reaches to grab hold of Lena's arm for comfort.

Miss Eastley's unimpressed deadpan look doesn't waver at Lena's apology, though it does cause her brows to furrow and her lips to quirk to the side as she's given the apparent once-over by the slightly-older teen. Though the mention of swinging any which way has her eyebrows shooting up towards her hairline as she leans back, not expecting quite that turn in the conversation. She holds up her hands in a guesture of surrender, shaking her head a bit as she fights the urge to take a step back.
And for reasons she couldn't quite explain, the entire situation was somehow becoming surreal.
"I didn't exactly come her to um… um… What?"
As colors began to jump out at her in entirely too vibrant shades, the first of which is the very, very brown of Lena's hair, she blinks once, then again, losing her train of thought in the lightheadedness. Like most delinquent teens, she was no stranger to controlled substances, but like most delinquent teens, she wasn't in a frame of mind to do anything productive about it while under their influence.
"Who's into what?" She offers a lopsided, almost confused grin, which turns into a titter she would have smacked herself for as a male skitters along the floor, reminding her of a scurrying insect. She takes a step closer to shake a finger in his face, though she looks at the other woman, noting the colors from the lights on the dance floor playing over everything, kind of making everyone look like their face was melting. "He's kind of weird."

There is soon to be at least one more sober person in the room. Quinn pushes open the door, sauntering into the bar. She might not look like the typical patron, but she looks old enough and able to afford a drink, and has the sort of aura of confidence and basic 'don't give a..' that lets her walk into the place with total unconcern that it isn't her usual crowd.

Picking up his drink, Randall turns and finds himself face-to-face with a familiar pretty young thing. Still sober for the moment, and willing to go along with her charade because it amuses him too, he replies without missing a beat. "Hallis, darling, I thought you'd never make it! I was about to call-" Looking around, he soon spots her gaggle of friends as well, and flashes them a quick shit-eating grin. Sorry, Olivia, your omniscience just took a hit. "Well, never mind that- Make that two!" he yells at the bartender (even though he's already moved on to the next person in line), handing Hallis his own still-untouched glass.

From the VIP room, Olivia's eyes narrow at Randall, someone that she can't place but definitely a man that's got a mystery behind him. Just who is he? Mitsy and Chelsea are still chattering between themselves as to who he could have been here with when, NO! Hallis?! She never even told them that she'd be seeing him again. The trio is green with envy, especially after the man is gallant enough to hand off a drink to her before ordering his own.

"They can't hear you," Hallis murmurs as she accepts the drink with one hand and places her other on his shoulder to steady herself. She hasn't had a drink yet but there's got to be something in the air tonight, she's feeling positively wicked. "Find any magic?" she grins, keeping up the conversation with as much detail about the man as she remembers. Something about finding magic.

It's downright adorable watching Jade's expression go through that series of shifts. Envy-inspiring too. Lena observes the changes with an indulgent smile more appropriate to someone older. "It's nice, huh? Just go with it. Chi, there, he's into-" Then she too joins the weird brigade by yelping and startling when her arm is seized; initiated contact is good, uninvited contact bad. "Jesus Christ, Chi! Calm down!" The teen's forehead rumples with what could be concern or concentration. Maybe both. The level of happy fun time substance being pumped from her pores is increased to help the clinging Tiago settle even as blue eyes roam the immediate area. Searching for threats in the packed masses. "Is it cops? I don't see anything."

"What? Police!" Tiago jumps up, paranoia hanging around him in general as he casts a suspicious, hysterical glance around him. When he is eventually placated by the drugs as well as the lack of police badges being flashed in his face, he lets out a long, labored kind of sigh. "Nah - nuh uh. This - this chick. She's like…I had ta run away from her fuckin' three hundred /dogs/, man! They had sharp fuckin' teeth! I can't let her see me, man, my ass can't take that kinda shit again!" He's practically whining as he tightens his hold on Lena, although his attention is eventually transmited over to Jade. There is a blink, and then another, before he speaks. "Who's that?"

Quinn frowns as she looks around, getting a feel for the place. Just because she feels she /can/ go in, and mingle, doesn't necessarily mean she wants to. She pushes her way through the crowd, to make her way toward the bar.

Jade's eyes attempt to follow a beam of red light as it plays across Lena's face from one of the strobes, catching up to it on the wall, where she suddenly loses it the blurs of oranges, greens, yellows, purples, and every other color under the sun. Everything seemed to flow in slow motion, except for the lights, which somehow speeded up to the point that they were no longer individual dots, but continuous, twirling lines.
"Yeah, it's great, but… I don't think I took anything. Mmm." Her attention is finally drawn away from the dancing figures of lights on the outer wall, feeling like her head is turning in slow motion, though really her motor functions were moving just as quickly as anyone else's. "Chi? Are you serious?"
There's a small, amused bit of high-pitched laughter as she places a hand on her hip, the other over her mouth as she looks at the male with a mixture of pity, disbelief, and entertainment. "Your friends call you Chi? That is so freaking retarded, they must really hate you." It feels like it takes forever for her hand to leave her mouth and hold itself out, as if her brain was processing it's electrical signals much more slowly than they should. In Normo-Vision, she jabs her hand out so quickly that her fingertips almost poke Tiago in the stomach.

Having acknowledged Hallis's friends that far, Randall pays them no mind thereafter, instead tossing a few more bills on the bar and picking up the next round. "Nothing much since the other day," he replies, taking the blonde's elbow with his free hand and guiding her toward the periphery of the dance floor, unless she indicates a clear interest in heading somewhere else. "How's the herd of cats tonight? That's Jade," as he points out the one he actually did come in with (just early enough for the VIPs to miss it), "and that… I'm not sure who that is."

Hallis allows herself to be led out near the dance floor, though the sneer on her face indicates her extreme displeasure at being out amongst the lower class. "How about we go up to the VIP room instead, hmm? I'm always afraid that I'm going to get date raped or whatever it is these people do down here… It can't be good." Hallis was never above disparaging comments about the lower class. Looking back up to the window, she spies the trio pointing at her and smirking, probably wondering why she's down there slumming. "Jade, she seems… wow, pink bracelet? What's wrong with her?" the question is asked earnestly, apparently the last time she saw a pink bracelet was at the hospital during her community service.

"Three hundred dogs? Have you been taking something on the side? Fuck…you had me thinking something was *really* wrong, Chi." He's just going to have to forgive Lena for being skeptical. Too much time spent around people with "enhanced" perception. "Here, meet…yeah, Jade. Li'l bit is rollin' hardcore, I think," she goes on, fixing a critical eye and a grin on the younger teen. "He's from Brazil, Jade. His name's Tiago…Chi-ah-go. So, Chi, see? And I'm Lena, yay, now we all know each other. You guys want to hit the bar, get some water or something? The bass is nice over there."

Tiago stares at Lena. Partially because there seems to be three heads attached to her body, and partially because he is hurt by her disbelief. "Well - yeah, okay, so maybe I lied a bit, but I was /viciously attacked/, man! She's fuckin' psycho and trampy as hell and I can't like, fuckin' be seen by her, you got it?" He intones in a brisk faux-whisper to Lena, and by extension, Jade as well. His dramatic hysterics happen to be cut short, however, when the unknown female proceeds to make fun of his name. His brows rise and he glowers at her a bit sullenly, pursing his lips with distaste. "Yeah, well fuck you. What're you called - Jade? What the hell kinda name is that? You aint even asian! And what - no I don't want water, I want out of he-ere - okay. Okay, fine, let's go to the bar." He had just turned to the exit, only to catch Soliel parked right in front of his only means of escape.

"Ha haa, the barrrrrrr…" The younger teenager drags out the word as if it were inexplicably amusing to say. "I'm not allowed to drink, since 'The Man' took my ID n' gave me this."
For emphasis, she holds up her wrist, showing off the gaudily bright, nearly glow-in-the-dark, flimsy wrist ornamentation, tapping it with her finger rather unhappily. "Brazil, huh? You don't really sound like an Australian." Yes, someone had missed a few grades of high school. "Jade is English, you retard. If I was Japanese, m'name'd be… Something that sounds like egg-foo-yung. It's a /stone/, look it up."
Since he didn't take her hand, she just leans forward and pats the Brazilian on the chest like they were old pals, a loopy smile twisting her lips as she laughs, eyes flicking back to the brown-haired girl. "He's so stupid, I like him. Let's go to the barrrrrrr. I think your hair is so… so /brown/."
As if the browness must be touched by some sort of biological imperitave, Jade reaches for Lena's head, only to pull up short as something catches out of the corner of her eye.
Her vision telescopes in on Randall, and she couldn't really tell if he was three feet away or thirty, but he was pointing at her. She lifts a hand in a lazy wave as she trails along behind the other two, her eyes still on her employer as she points at Lena's head, transmitting some kind of imaginary psychic signal to him about just how /brown/ the other girl's hair was.

If Randall picked up on how wide a net Hallis's comment was meant to cast, he might well take offense. He's lower class himself, after all, at least on the scale she has in mind. But since he doesn't, he simply nods and switches directions. The VIP area must be where he spotted her 'friends', right? "Oh, she got carded," he explains, glancing toward Jade once again and returning her wave in passing. She's clearly got her hands full with Tiago and Lena, so he leaves her alone to work through whatever it is. "It was easier when I was that age, usually you could just have a friend buy and they'd forget to pay attention."

The drink that was paid for is forgotten on a table as the pair make their way upstairs. "You know? I could use some water…" the young woman murmurs as she tucks herself under Randall's arm. Her pace is quite slow and as they reach the guarded door, Hallis just gives the bouncer a smile and leans in to give him a kiss. Whoah… what? Yeah. A kiss. "Wow… you're pretty cute.." she slurs, tapping his chest as he waves them through. It's not uncommon for any of the people inside to be high on something, so the bouncer just shrugs it off.

Inside, Mitsy has witnessed the entire spectacle and is on top of Randall like white on rice. "Oh you poor thing!" she coos, "I can't believe she did that to you!" And she takes Randall's hand and leads him to one of the sofas in the dark corner.

Lena studies Tiago for a long, silent moment. She is an island of still and calm in the center of madness. Then the brunette reaches back and retrieves the gloves dangling from her back pocket. "No more drugs for that man," she murmurs to herself, slipping the black satin on and giving them a tug to seat them past each elbow. "Cmon now, Chi, she's just a kid. Let's all be friends!" Now safe, her hand is tucked in Tiago's elbow, his forearm given a reassuring pat as the odd little trio sets off. The other hand is held out for Jade, in case the other teenager needs some guidance in winding through the crowd. "You like it? I was thinking of dying it black but I dunno, it's more natural this way, I guess…who's that?" Catching sight of Jade's waving, she shoots a curious glance in that direction; Randall is spotted passing by but Hallis' much smaller form is missed.

Tiago has forgotten all about his delusions of paranoia and self-interest. Why? Because he's /staring/ at Jade with an expression that borderlines absolute confusion, mortification, and amusement. It's like he can't pick an emotion, and so his brows twitch too and fro, switching him from one to another before he licks his lips in a ginger fashion. The pat earns a blink. "Are you like - hittin' on me or somethin'?" He inquires, his discernment messed with thanks to the drug.

In the end, he does end up being dragged bar-wards by Lena, though he shoots her a particularly pouty sneer when she cuts him off. "Ugh! You /always/ do that! I aint even that high, man! I can like…count and shit, I bet. I think." Beat. "I hope." Randall and Hallis are missed for the time being.

"Hey, hey, hey, I haven't been a kid for a long ti- Tha's m'boss." Jade's hand latches onto the other girl's as it's held out to her, feeling the satiny softness of the glove with a delighted, tiny gasp. As she trails on behind, she attaches her other hand to it, too, rubbing across the back of Lena's hand in small, petting motions. She's so caught up in the feel of the material that she sometimes forgets to walk, and has to be half-stumble-drug along every dozen paces or so.
"He's like, a computer nerd or something. I think he's into fairtales, I don't know. But he hasn't fired me, yet~, so he's cool. If your boyfriend high? He said he was high. Is he high?"
As if repeating it somehow helped her focus on the question, Jade quits touching the lengthy glove in order to look at the lone male of their trio, still wearing her spacey smile, though whether she was even aware of it was up for debate. As if she had some sort of ESP touch sensation that would help her determine his 'highness', once they reach the bar and she no longer has to focus on following and not getting lost in the pretty lights and the warm, oh so warm, feel of other people's bodies, she reaches over to touch the Brazilian's face, mostly his nose, but kind of his chin, too.

Meanwhile, in the VIP room - while Randall appears to have missed out on the brunt of Lena's gas cloud of euphoric awesome, he might still have gotten a light dose. He's a little odd to begin with, so who knows? More importantly, his partner in head games has just announced to all and sundry that she's more interested in playing with someone else…

…and there's Mitsy right there. Young. Attractive. Attentive. Declining to join her in snarking about Hallis, he does nevertheless take her up on her other unspoken offer, settling down on the couch next to her and handing her his second drink of the evening. Why imbibe yourself when it's just as much fun to let your companion do so?

As Randall is pulled away from her and actually goes with Mitsy into the corner, Hallis is left to the howling laughter of Olivia and Chelsea. Mortified, and taking an almost psychotic downturn due to the drugs, she grabs the glass that's in Chelsea's hand and downs it. "I don't care…" she insists as the three eye the new couple in the corner. "Did you see his outfit? It's not even Sak's standard." Then she folds her arms over her chest to allow her two friends to comfort her.

"You didn't need him anyway, Hal." Chelsea snarks, her eyes narrowing toward Mitsy and what is to likely be the end of her social life for at least a few weeks. "You have Trent anyway, right?" Then she is elbowed by Olivia, who gives her a pointed stare. "What?" she asks, a little too loudly, then rolls her eyes to the ceiling and lets out a long moan, "Ooooh yeah, geez Hal, I'm really sorry."

Lena, having offered a hand to hold, is not at all surprised when Jade reacts with such delight to the sensation. It takes monumental effort but somehow she manages to remain relaxed through the girl's exploration of the glove while simultaneously guiding slash dragging the posse to the bar. "Wow, he does sound cool, fairytales, huh? Like, from books?" Pause. "You're totally high, Chi. He's totally high. So are you! And I'm not! Life's so unfair!" Exasperation and amusement show in equal measures as she deposits her companions against the aforementioned landmark. This is after all her own fault. A wilted twenty is fished from her pocket (when Jade lets her go to play braille with Tiago's face) and then waved to attract bartender attention. "Three bottles of water and keep the change."

Surprised, Tiago shoots a shell-shocked glance to Lena when Jade stumbles over and starts feeling his face. And the worst part, the narcotics make it feel like tiny little pin-pricks are attacking his nose. But after a moment, he realizes freezing up like some sort of statue isn't exactly being productive. And so he does the first thing he thinks of doing, of course. He opens his mouth, and out darts his tongue, lapping at Jade's open palm like some sort of dog. "Huh. You taste pretty okay." He offers, a compliment of sorts. Maybe. "Leeena. I aint /that/ high though. I toldya, I betchya I could still…juggle and shit. Wait, do I know how to juggle?"

"Mm'not high! I haven't taken- Has your skin /always/ been like this?"
Jade cuts off from her denials of her altered state of mind in order to make rhetorical inquiries into the state of the Brazilian male's facial skin. That is, until he decides to fend off her invasive touching with his tongue. For a moment, her hand freezes, her arm locked in place as her mouth falls slightly open in wondered bewilderment. She draws her hand back, looking at her wide-open palm for a long minute, at the way the lights danced on the sudden, slightly reflective wet spot in the middle.
"I do?" On cue, she brings her hand to her mouth and takes her own lick of the very same spot, smacking her lips slightly as she looks entirely /too/ contemplative. "Oh. I do."
After a good minute, she forgets about her hand and pokes Tiago in the chest with her index finger, rather hard, too. "You /should/ know how to juggle. Everyone should have a skill. /Everyone/. I know how to surf, but it's cold, so I can't show you. I… I don't even know where the ocean is right now. Hey," Apparently not satisfied that the other girl of the group had turned her attention away from the /deep/ conversation they were having, she takes to tapping her on the shoulder insistently. "Lena. Lena. Hey, Lena. Lena. Do you know where the ocean is?"

It's a large club, and a late night, and so - in addition to Tiago and Jade staring at their hands, and Hallis and her peers trading barbs - there are hundreds of other strange and varied run-ins all going down at once. It's like this every night.

What's different from most nights is that there's an eye to this particular storm. For the time being, Randall neither knows nor cares that his taste in clothing is being insulted; Mitsy neither knows nor cares that she's going to be sent to Coventry for the rest of the month. They've each found something more demanding of their time and attention.

The spare key is to the left of the door, inside the fake rock with the little purple spots. This will probably be very important for Jade to remember in the morning.

The eye of this particular storm has perhaps moved off into another wall of the hurricane though. Because as they begin their session of heavy groping, Mitsy gets a feel of his jeans and pulls back. "Oohhh.. Randall. Why don't we go back to your place?" Mitsy is a little bit above groping in the dark corner, especially after stealing away a man from Hallis. It's happened only once before and the result was really not very pretty. Tabloid rumors? There was one that Mitsy caught a certain sexually transmitted disease from doing something particularly deviant during a party. Thanks Hallis.

For her part, Hallis hasn't quite managed to shake off the sore spot on her pride. It was just one kiss. And who is this guy anyway? Dumping her for Mitsy?! The anger can be clearly read across her face. Then, Chelsea brushes her hand up the young woman's arm. Then they look into each other's eyes… oh boy… Thank God the paparazzi isn't here now.

"Guys, if you don't stop whining at me, I swear to *god* I'm stopping this rave and taking you all home." So intent is she on playing the mom card joke that Lena misses all of the hand-licking. Oh, and she's busy accepting frosty cold bottles of water from the bartender too. These are lined up on the bar, one, two, three, the caps twisted off in brisk and efficient sequence. "Hey, hey, watch the hands. Which ocean?" she inquires in her southern lilt, lifting her brows and offering Jade the first of the bottles. "Atlantic or Pacific? I don't think there's much juggling *or* surfing around, even at the beach. It's all sludge and used needles out there. Drink up, li'l bit. Chi, you thirsty yet, darlin'?"

"Err…chyeah. I kinda like my skin skin-ish." Tiago offers, blatantly puzzled and the area she recently vacates is immediately replaced with his own hand as he marvels at the sensation of his own stubble. "/Whoa/ man…whoa." Immediately, he is distracted by the hand pressing against his chest, and after giving up half an inch with a stutter step, he moves to lean against the counter of the bar and tries to snatch up Jade's hand, holding her wrist firmly in his if given the opportunity. "What? I got skill. Ask Lena, aint that right, Lena?" He is also considering applying to the Department of Redundancy Department. His brows furrow, wrinkling a tiny bit in between his heavy brows before being smoothed out by Lena's inquiry. "Chyeah, maybe. What is it? And…why're you like, /all/ the way over there!" She is of course, a foot or two away, but this seems to be a tragedy to the young man.

"W-What?" As she takes the bottle in surreal slow-mo, Jade glances at the water, then holds it up for Lena to see, tapping the label. "No, no, it's not Atlanta-Pacific. It's Aquafina. It's so… so cold."
At the feel of the battle, dripping slightly with condensation, against her skin, the stoned teenager simply decides that she suddenly needs much more of it. She pushes the container against her cheek, rubbing it across her lips to the other cheek, then down the side of her neck.
She goes to maneuver the bottle to her other hand, only find it not where she expected to be. It's also resisting her attempts to call it back. Her eyes start at her shoulder, and travel down the length of her own arm to finally spot her wrist in the male's grip. She lifts a finger away from the bottle to point at her other hand. Then she points at it again, as if she were giving a silent, telepathic lecture to the man holding it. When she finally remembers that she has to move her mouth to actually talk, she grins broadly, in an almost sleepy manner, swaying side to side with the music, though it looked to her as if the room were moving.
"Why is the water cold? I want to be warm. Mmmmm, warm. Do you have warm water?" She looks at Lena, then at Tiago, as if expecting one of them to produce the asked-for item. "Look, stop dancing, I'm serious! It's cold, see?" To emphasize her point, she pushes the bottle towards the brunette's face.

Randall glances around one more time at the other VIPs. He dumped Hallis? No no no, it was a game, it was always a game. Now it isn't any more. "I think that's a great idea," he murmurs back to Mitsy, wrapping an arm around her waist as a guard against getting pulled away from him on their way back down the stairs and out of the club. It's still not a sure thing; there are still hundreds of writhing bodies between them and the exit doors.

When they get up and begin to pass Olivia, that's when she catches it. The label on his jeans. Oh Dear God… he's a Walmart shopper! Reaching out, she grabs Mitsy's hand and wrenches her away from the man who is currently handling her. "If you want to commit social suicide with that… poor person, you go ahead. But you'll never make it back up." Then Olivia gives her a small smirk, "Face it Mits, you do this and we'll ruin you. Completely. You'll be shopping at Walmart with your little poor babies." When push comes to shove, Olivia is always behind Hallis, one hundred percent. Then she motions to the bouncer, a Cheshire grin spread across her face as she looks directly into Randall's eyes. "Excuse me? Bouncer man? This guy isn't on the list."

Hallis has been completely mollified by Chelsea's attention, had the other blonde been down the stairs too? No, it's good ol' cocaine in her system, they'd been imbibing in the limo on the way to the club. They move toward the window, Hallis apparently considering going down to join the festivities below. "We should go dance!" she says to Chels, a little too excitedly.

"Uh.. no?" Chelsea responds, sobering up at the prospect of being touched by one of them. "There's ghetto people down there, we could get raped or something."

Lena slides the second bottle on down towards Tiago, the third cradled securely in her other hand. "The man's got mad skills," she assures Jade. The teenager's exploration of the world of bottled water gets scarcely a glance (she's seen so much worse!) but there's no stopping her amusement at observing Jade's struggle with having one wrist captured. Really, Chi, she'd move closer but it's so much funnier watching from a short distance away. Of course, that puts her in the line of fire too…

"You *bathe* in warm water and *drink* cold wa-Hey, *hey*! Jesus!*" Beverage to the face! Everyone's favorite party-maker stumbles backwards, the condensation-slippery bottle *she'd* been holding onto slipping from her wet satin glove and tumbling in a spray to the ground. As Lena splutters and wipes at her face, more water is gurgling out over the floor.

Several of the others at the bar let out angry exclamations at having their shoes and legs soaked.

But there's more!

Tiago wrinkles his nose with distaste, blinking in that dumb-as-dirt manner as he slowly registers all that is happening. Apparently, being high doesn't help his attention span and ability to process things very much. The silent lecture almost seems to reach him, seeing as he adopts a childishly sullen sort of look and glances down to the floor, as if guilty. It doesn't last long - because when Lena starts spluttering and the like, Tiago's attention snaps up and his frown becomes more persistent. "Cut it out," he snaps to Jade, using his free hand to snatch the water bottle out of her hands and then, summarily /chuck/ it across the bar in the direction of the VIP room. Only reinforcing the Fashion Club's fears of how rowdy and out of control them poor people are. "Stop gettin' Lena wet. Only I can get her wet."

As the bottle falls towards the floor, time *STOPS*. Each individual droplet is crystal clear, completely visible, lights dancing through the little pieces of hydration. Her mouth falls open with a gasp of delighted wonder as she begins to count them, each one having it's own tiny, pulsing rhythm that seemed to swim through the air to the rhythm of the latest song being played. After an eternity, time resumes, the bottle falls and bounces a couple times, a few droplets splashing across her shoes.
"Hey, my water!"
As it's snatched out of her hand, and seemingly vanishes, Jade looks to Tiago for an explanation as to where her beverage had gone to, only to find him looking in another direction entirely, bumping her a little as he chucks some unrecognizable object across the club. "I didn't get her wet! She was dancing and I think she peed herself!" As if it was proof of the action, the younger brunette points accusingly at the puddle on the floor, some of the liquid still chugging out of the bottle. She rears back a hand to whap the Brazilian in the ribs.
"Heyyyyyy, wait, did you just say…?" She turns partway around to look at the older teen, tilting her head meaningfully in Tiago's direction. "He is /such/ a pervert." She laughs, then repeats, as if she didn't remember saying it in the first place. "He is /such/ a pervert."

Randall is a step ahead of the bouncer: "All right, I'm going," he says, holding his hands up with palms outward and heading down the stairs on his own. If Mitsy follows him, he'll happily take her back to his place; if not… well, then she deserves her hen party.

Unaware of the water bottle that was just thrown into his path a minute ago, he discovers it only when shoe hits puddle and his legs begin to slide out from under him. A wordless look of alarm crosses his face as he instinctively throws his arms forward in an attempt to catch himself, and then registers the variously familiar forms of Jade and Tiago right in front of him.

Mitsy does not, in fact, follow Randall. The poor girl watches after him, her mouth turning down as if she may have missed a chance at something, but she just isn't brave enough to challenge Olivia. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out!" Olivia calls after him, her sing song voice barely reaching his ears at the door. Then she turns to Mitsy and glares at her,

"You're such a loser." With this said, Mitsy winces, but turns to follow the caramel haired debutante. Her posture is quite slouched and her head is hung low.

"Oh come on Chelsea, let's live a little!" cries Hallis, grabbing her friend's hand and pulling her toward the door. Living has never really been a problem for the girls, they have enough money to do it very well. Chelsea's hand slips out of Hallis' though and the petite blonde is left to exit the room on her own. She bypasses Randall, ignoring him due to his snub and skips down the steps, just as another bottle flies through the air and hits her *smack* in the shoulder. "Ooooowwww…" she whines, rubbing the spot. She turns back to toss the bouncer a pleading look, her chin quivering a little as she threatens to drown the entire club in crocodile tears.

By the time Lena gets the water squeegeed from her face, Tiago has already gone and wet half the club by means of one thrown bottle. It goes in a beautiful arc, end over end, open mouth spraying that clear liquid on the crowd below. It *is* gorgeous, with the light catching each scattered droplet. But. There is more shouting. There are bouncers, now taking some interest in the scene. There is Randall, doing his damndest to kill himself via puddle, and Hallis trying to get them thrown out.

To add insult to injury, nearby people also have now been incorrectly informed that Lena is a pants-wetter. Thanks Jade. Thanks a lot. See if she ever gets you high again.

"Fuck *you* and *you* and *you*, I'm *out*!" Jade and Tiago and some hapless random passerby are pointed at with a soggy finger before Lena goes stomping towards the exit. It would be far more impressive if she didn't have to scrape strands of water-plastered hair back from her eyes.

Tiago pauses, squinting his eyes in Lena's direction as Jade offers her explanation in an appraising sort of way. Trying to determine whether he might have been mistaken and whether it /was/ just Lena peeing herself. But he is immediately drawn back to the real world by the jab in his ribs. He winces away from Jade then, automatically releasing her wrist before lifting that same hand to cradle his side. "Ow! Well, /you're/ a pervert too." He whines with exasperation, throwing her a sullen look that is cut shot by Lena's temper tantrum. His previous train of thought is immediately derailed, and he stares at Lena's retreating back for a second before commenting to Jade; "…Huh. I think she was yellin' at you." A couple of seconds later, he recalls that /he/ had been pointed to as well. "…Fuck! Le-ena!" And with this, he erupts from the counter in an unsteady fashion, possibly crossing paths with the quite sober Randall in his desperate bid to catch the brunette. "Shit, wait up! You - you're forgettin' me! I'm here too, I think! Me!"

As Randall manages to look like the height of foolishness not several feet away, she turns just in time to see his fall and try to catch him. Her response was incredibly delayed, reaching out for him just past the last second, but managing to catch her fingers in his hair and give a heroic tug to pull him back to his feet.
"Watch out!"
Her warning shout is also delayed, only coming a moment after she's tried to rescue her employer by means of hair-pull. She's snapped out of her self-appointed heroism by a finger pointing abruptly at her face, turning so she can watch her departure with a crestfallen expression. "But…!" And then not a second later, her other new friend seems intent on abandoning her as well, dashing off after his lover-sister-girlfriend thing, she hadn't really figured that out. "But!"
Instead, she turns back to the man whom she works for, who's hair she's also still gripping. She lets go of his dark hair to grabs his face with both hands, ensuring she had his complete attention as she leans close, dilated eyes staring into Randall's. She speaks slowly, deliberatly, as if she were speaking to a very stupid, or very drunk, person.
"Lena is fucking *out*. …Do something! They're leaving!"

A few inches of variance in any one direction, and Jade could easily wind up ripping a handful of curls out of Randall's head (lol, fired). As it happens, he gets bumped by someone else on the way down, twists to one side, and winds up thudding down into an awkward sitting position next to Jade's ankles. With the rest of the water on the floor starting to soak into the back of his VIP-unacceptable blue jeans.

He had enough time before the spill and fall to register that Mitsy's submissive nature had overwhelmed her hormones, so he doesn't waste any time looking around for her. Instead, he grabs hold of Jade's wrists and pulls himself slowly back up to a standing position, which winds up a lot closer to a body-grinding-against-body motion than he'd intended. "Let's go!" he shouts back at her, and - with a single glance downward to work out where there's still dry patches of floor to be found - he turns and makes once again toward the exit, employee-slash-fellow-clubgoer in tow.

It's the same bouncer that Hallis kissed who comes to her rescue. Just as the fight in the main part begins, he sweeps down and pulls her back into the room, locking her and the rest of the 'in crowd' safely away from the 'little people'. It is from there that Hallis, Olivia, and Chelsea watch the crowd's mood change. Mitsy is forgotten by the trio, punishment for thinking that she is anywhere near their league and it is likely to stay that way for a while. Hallis is still nursing her wounded shoulder, Chelsea is gaping at the scene, and Olivia is simply watching with a sneer. "God, poor people suck." She says lowly as she witnesses the drinks being flung around, the people beginning to push and punch, and eventually the entire tide of the patrons turning quite ugly.

The night began with such promise. Now here is Lena, trailed by Tiago, trailed by bouncers, trailed by Jade and Randall and god knows who else. Feet, ankles, hair and gloves are wet, but until home is reached, only the gloves can be dealt with. She strips the sodden garments off, leaving them to dangle from one hand while the other shoves people out of her way. This means, sadly, that several in the crosh are cooing about hummingbirds and grabbing at empty air with floppy hands by the time the parade has passed through. Her voice, clear and high, thick with Dixie hostility, rises in brief spikes over the club noise. "I'm not that lucky! I can't *believe* you…to me…Chi, if I…couch…in the junk again!"

"Not that lucky? What? Yahuh you are - you got the last of the ice cream 'member? Think about the ice cream! The gummy bears!" Tiago hollers back to Lena as he literally elbows his way through the crowd, having forgotten all about the supposedly Asian girl they had been conversing with all night, nevermind the strangers he had yet to meet and the psychotic ex-lay that sent him running for the bar. Instead, he pads along after Lena in a pathetic manner, screaming "Gummy bears!" Every five seconds or so.

Jade's wide eyes remain focused on Randall's face as he pulls himself to his feet using her as leverage, despite the fact that her eyes look spectacularly /un/focused. She opens her mouth to say more, likely some nonsense about skin or how something tasted, but her mouth clicks back shut as he makes his desire to exit known. She does nothing at first, at least, not until she's drug along behind him, once more stumble-walking through the press of bodies, trying to stop every few feet to look at a bright article of clothing, or touch a random person's random bodypart.
As the club begins to erupt into chaos, hormones and pride breeding violence amongst all the crush of bodies, Jade seems remarkably oblvious. Even the traces of blood coming out of one guy's nose seemed magically, almost unbelievably red, and it all seemed like more of a dance than an orgy of violence. It was an eternity of being led through writhing, bouncing, catorting bodies, the noise so defeaning it didn't even really register in her ears, lending the whole scene a remarkable aura of silence.
"Randy! Randy! Randy! Where are we going? I didn't get to dance! Randy! Randy! Randy! I need to get my ID from the guy at the front door! I /need/ to!"
For the life of her, she wasn't sure exactly /why/ she needed to, but she certainly knew that she needed the little piece of plastic with her picture on it as she calls her boss's new nickname over and over in her effort to get him to stop and listen to her. In her state, however, physical resistance wasn't even a thought, especially since his hand was so /warm/. So wonderfully, wonderfully warm.

That 'looking for magic' thing that Hallis was asking Randall about, earlier? This is it, in spades. Too bad he missed most of it while he was making out with Mitsy in the upstairs room…

Now, at last, he has a second to really take it all in for what it is. But only that long, because it's already collapsing in on itself. He's curious, not suicidal."Don't worry, we'll get it!" he calls back to Jade, only slowing his pace long enough to double-check his hold on her pink-banded wrist and make sure it's ready to present at the exit. Hey, her skin's pretty warm too, come to think of it, between the euphorics and the crowd and the running. And the beads of sweat along her hairline lend a healthy glow to her already-tanned skin. She seems to have trouble holding her liquor, though - he'd better see her back to one apartment or the other, make sure she has a safe place to crash.

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