The Launch of The AU-niverse
It was somehow both dark and blindingly bright.
A wash of kaleidoscope colors and smoke haze. Downstairs, in the basement, no windows, a slow strobe flashed along with the slow, rolling thrum of bass. In the middle, a tangled, moving, living mass of flesh color and streaks of jewel-toned blue. No words. Drop out the music and you'd hear nothing. This place isn't for talking. Worn velvet couches line the walls but they're empty. No one wants to sit down. Go upstairs if that's what you're here for.
In golden plated cages, women and men of varying colours dance, stripped down to nearly nothing as they tease and tantalize the crowds. The girls in their stacked plastic platforms and tiny outfits, the men stripped down to their bum hugging briefs and barefeet as they move and caress the bars.
The iron staircase curves its way up, breaking ground, the music quieter, the polished floors still shaking with the bass down below. Colored lights turned low wash the bar in a faint glow of blue, the counters and tables polished and spartan. The dull shine of old steel. The bar wraps around both the east and north walls, littered with abandoned glasses, the remnants of bright-colored cocktails and locally brewed beers filming the bottoms of mugs and highballs and cocktail flutes. There is a dull roar of voices, the gentler strains of music being pumped into The Chapterhouse's main level, both struggling to be heard pumping on the dancefloor.
The stage is well lit in blues and purples, and on it a woman takes a spin on the poll before shedding her top. Behind her two men perform similar acts, taking credits from the crowd in exchange for some slightly more up close action.
For the right amount of money the large bouncer of dubious humanity grants access to the top floor of The Chapterhouse. Darker and quieter than the lower floors, the worn but still plush lounge and the connecting private rooms are open for rent. No cameras. Lax security. Open to any business that must be done away from prying eyes. They're empty tonight, but it's still early and The Chapterhouse never sleeps.
Soon it'll seem like the whole damn city is packed into these walls.
[OOC: Launch post, open to all current characters of The AU-niverse! Tag away. Gathering post, slowtimed for as long as you need it. If you'd rather your pup not be in the club, from this moment on you're welcome to EP to your little heart's content. Have at it, kiddies.]
A wash of kaleidoscope colors and smoke haze. Downstairs, in the basement, no windows, a slow strobe flashed along with the slow, rolling thrum of bass. In the middle, a tangled, moving, living mass of flesh color and streaks of jewel-toned blue. No words. Drop out the music and you'd hear nothing. This place isn't for talking. Worn velvet couches line the walls but they're empty. No one wants to sit down. Go upstairs if that's what you're here for.
In golden plated cages, women and men of varying colours dance, stripped down to nearly nothing as they tease and tantalize the crowds. The girls in their stacked plastic platforms and tiny outfits, the men stripped down to their bum hugging briefs and barefeet as they move and caress the bars.
The iron staircase curves its way up, breaking ground, the music quieter, the polished floors still shaking with the bass down below. Colored lights turned low wash the bar in a faint glow of blue, the counters and tables polished and spartan. The dull shine of old steel. The bar wraps around both the east and north walls, littered with abandoned glasses, the remnants of bright-colored cocktails and locally brewed beers filming the bottoms of mugs and highballs and cocktail flutes. There is a dull roar of voices, the gentler strains of music being pumped into The Chapterhouse's main level, both struggling to be heard pumping on the dancefloor.
The stage is well lit in blues and purples, and on it a woman takes a spin on the poll before shedding her top. Behind her two men perform similar acts, taking credits from the crowd in exchange for some slightly more up close action.
For the right amount of money the large bouncer of dubious humanity grants access to the top floor of The Chapterhouse. Darker and quieter than the lower floors, the worn but still plush lounge and the connecting private rooms are open for rent. No cameras. Lax security. Open to any business that must be done away from prying eyes. They're empty tonight, but it's still early and The Chapterhouse never sleeps.
Soon it'll seem like the whole damn city is packed into these walls.
[OOC: Launch post, open to all current characters of The AU-niverse! Tag away. Gathering post, slowtimed for as long as you need it. If you'd rather your pup not be in the club, from this moment on you're welcome to EP to your little heart's content. Have at it, kiddies.]