(1211) Consilium: Mage @ The Rage

[Mage ST]

The ground tremors underfoot as the doors open to the most high energy rave and dance club on the east side of Sacramento. The thrumming beat of the walls of loudspeakers can be heard throughout The Rage. The music is aggressive, edgy, and wild, embodying the emotion for which the club is named. It echoes up through the high ceilings, reverberating down on the open dance floor. Ceiling and stage lights oscillate and spin, casting a laser show about the room that put children at risk of seizures. Large video screens display scenes of abstract imagery, swirling with color, flooding the hall with aberration. These grounds have seen their fair share of violent mosh pits, drug abuse, and generally good times.

For those arriving they may notice the Supernal Script embedded in the walls and columns indicating Pentacle sanction. Other runes serve as a warning against spellcraft within. However, some may be aware of the advertised DJ contest that permits spell use for aesthetic and sonorous purposes this evening. Among those rumors is the identity of Jammer, the owner and operator of the club. Little is known of him save for these rumors.

Yet that same man stands in the DJ booth set back behind the stage, working his magic, so to speak, mixing beats on the expansive turntable facing the open floor and entryway, light playing off his light brown skin and intricate tattoos. His dreads bounce as he gets into the groove of the music. He plans to greet his guests soon, but for now he is greeting them in his own fashion with thunderous dubstep.

In-the-know Sleepwalkers serve as the staff and security for The Rage, two large bouncers and a friendly greeter meet guests as they enter and check them for ID and for weapons. It’s the same procedure they give all clients upon arrival and Jammer is keen on avoiding throwing fuel on the fire of an already aggressive venue. Any 18-20 year-old Awakened are allowed in but are subjected to a wristband and a supernal mark. At the back of the hall is a fully-stocked cash bar for those who need to load up on booze before they hit the dance floor.

Some may recognize Tyria Primoria standing against a railing and sipping a latte she had somehow gotten hold of. Avalon could be seen too sitting, attentive and observing the colorful display.

[Miach]

Never one to pass by such an event as an Awakened DJ Contest at a club he had yet to go to, Miach was extremely excited at the prospect of the evening. From the outside, the heavy sounds and flickering lights were an alluring bait to the tall Acanthus, and he couldn't help stamping in the queue as he got the look-over from the bouncers. His trained eyes caught sight of the Awakened restriction, but he didn't mind one bit, he was used to such rules.

Once inside, he noticed at once the evening's MC, Jammer. The man was a mystery to Miach, and he hoped to meet him by night's end. to He was wondering if he should have brought Esmeralda to share the fun instead of lying to her, when he spotted both Tyria Primoria and Avalon. It was extremely unexpected since neither woman had struck him as party-goers, but it answered his dilemma. His girlfriend would have been dropped into a world she knew nothing about, and as thus, was best left in the dark.

The Acanthus didn't want those gloomy thoughts to take ahold of him now, and he made his way to the bar for a rum first. Everyone else could come second tonight.

[Gallows]

Never let it be said that Gallows didn't like to party. Gallows was from New Orleans, the American city commonly recognized to hold the patent for the concept of partying. However, even as he dressed up for the club and made sure he had some cash on him, Gallows was more excited for the meeting that would come after the dancing and drinking at the Rage. He was ready for this new Consilium to start functioning.

Unfortunately, the fact that he was representing the Catalyst meant that he couldn't drink too heavily--it would be pretty bad to show up sloshed. However, he could still enjoy himself. Gallows obviously didn't bring any weapons with him, so he made it past the bouncers pretty easily. Once inside, he decided to look and see who the other cabal's representatives might be.

[Animus]

The Rage.

It had been a long time since he'd been to Jammer's establishment. With good reason.

As soon as the door opens, the Thyrsus staggers back under the physical wall of sound, heart pounding and breath coming in short, jagged gasps. It's all he can do to not bolt, but he forces himself to enter despite the screaming protests of his senses. This evening might well determine the form the Consilium would take going forward, and he still held too much of a stake; his absense would send the wrong messages.

Eyes survey the dance floor, slitted against the harsh, pulsating lights. For a moment, Animus is in that tumult, dancing with her. Reliving their first meeting in the sights and sounds of the club. Suddenly the press of people seemed distant, alien. His skin itched with the need to take on some other shape. Any other.

He fights his way over to Gallows , seeking out the known in the tumult of the foreign, grasping at the duty to support his cabalmate in an attempt to settle his own nerves. Sweat beads down the Thyrsus' face as he all but shouts to make himself heard. "I'd forgotten ... how overwhelming this place can be."

[Aenigma]

Aenigma stepped into the club, wearing a black hoodie, black slacks and a pair of black sneakers. As usual, the young Censor wanted to call the least amount of attention to himself. Places like the Rage were not really his scene to begin with, and knowing that he'd have to meet with the Hierarch that evening didn't do much to put him at east. He really wasn't sure of what to expect, but it was his duty to attend the event and represent his Cabal to the best of his abilities.

The Warlock walked around the club for a bit, spotting the Curator and giving her a polite nod. He had never been one to attend many parties, considering he spent most of his time dedicated to his studies, be they mundane or supernal in nature. And raves, well...they were loud and had a bunch of flashing lights all over the place. They were just too damn colorful for his taste, and radically different from the comforts a quiet library brought along with its ambiance. Yup, definitely not the sort of thing the young Mystagogue enjoyed.

Looking around for his Cabal mates, he could only hope that they wouldn't take too long in arriving.

I hope they show up soon...

Toren , kimura

[RebornSeas]

Four slipped into the Rage and winced at how loud it was, but quickly started weaving his way through the crowd looking out for other mages. He shifts uncomfortably in the crush of people, then makes an escape to the Bar, somehow winding up next to Miach ( Bigpaw ). "Hey Miach."

[Vae]

There was always something awesome about Mage-Only Consillium Meetings in Clubs. Of course there was always a downside to such a thing, like the awkward drunk spellcasting. And the moment that people realize that one could see through their lies. On the other hand it was rare that West was actually going to show up, and she had managed to have first shift instead of second. She was still on duty, but someone from her cabal had to show up to speak for them.

And she found it hard to imagine Samael in the Rage, the thought was funny though. After a fairly interesting interaction with a door guard she made her way into the club, the straps of a hidden necklace around her neck. At least she could enjoy the pounding music in the club, it was loud and something she enjoyed.

She walked over to Animus and Gallows . “Hey, gentlemen. You’re here for the meeting, right?” she looked between the two, then noticed Animus’ state. “You okay?”

[Miach]

Sipping in rum while letting the loud beat of the bass carry him to this state of wild self-abandon, Miach was brought back to earth by the hulking stature of his friend Four. He had barely come, and would have time to let go later, so he greeted his Cabalmate with a pleased smile, and a loud voice, of course. Hey Four ! How are you ? Quite the show, right ?! and he ordered a rum for his friend too.

[West (The Mage)]

He'd been tempted to enter the competition. As anyone who paid attention to his casual wardrobe might guess, he loved music. He'd probably cast Postcognition more for concerts than for business -- and he could honestly say he'd "seen" Ian Curtis perform "live".

Today was no different. He wore a pocket tee that had
WGU
18 G
emblazoned on the pocket, and on the back, bold block letters across the shoulders spelled out
FORD TIMELORD

Despite popular opinion, he did have a sense of humor. It was just... a bit obscure. Given the contest, he thought the choice of shirts was hilarious.

By the time he entered, he'd managed to quit touching his side where the absent weight of a sidearm felt like a phantom limb. He gave a small wave to Vaeltia , and stepped up to the bar.

[Key]

The Hierarch of the Consilium stood at ease against one of the standing tables opposite the bar. Her eyes didn’t seem to be focused on anything particular, or perhaps everything, sparkles of light glinting off her hazel eyes. She was poised, relaxed, and drew a slow drag on the cigarette in her hand, inhaling with all the practice of an experienced smoker. She puffed out a curling ring of smoke that lit up with the colors cast from the overhead lights. Her piece-dyed blue hair remained down, falling in waves upon her shoulders, framing her face, adorned with colorful face-paint with odd shapes and symbols. She glanced over to the former Hierarch’s familiar form as he enters, observing curiously the distress etched across his expression.