One of the more useful Elysian staff helps new arrivals and discreetly directs any Kindred towards The Stairs.
The Stairs lead away from the mortal nightclub to a subterranean area set aside for Kindred use...
Anyone descending The Stairs will detect the tangy aroma of freshly squeezed lemons which wafts up from the sub-space.
Once at the foot of The Stairs a new arrival can see the layout more properly.
http://nwod.org/wiki/index.php/Avalon_Underground
In the cellar vault beneath the nightclub the lights are low. The silence is almost tangible.
A calm atmosphere prevails.
Recessed lamps cast a soft glow and the bright and rich scent of freshly made lemonade and squeezed lemons fills the air.
A Latin motto is inscribed over the doorway as one descends The Stairs. It reads in delicate silver lettering: "Per Ardua Ad Astra" ~ through struggle to the Stars.
The Court area is decorated with long black and purple silken drapes cascading from floor to ceiling. Draped in elegant bunches and gathered into valances across door frames and between supporting pillars.
There's a rich and lingering scent of exotic rose incense; the lighting is intentionally low.
A delicately painted pattern and illustrations of ancient and mysterious Zodiacs adorn the ceiling.
Adorning the walls and carefully lit are truly large digital prints of NASA's renderings of the largest galactic entities and the very farthest reaches of Deep Space.
To any casual observer and Kindred who haven't met her before, Martha appears quite Mortal... if a little pale and petite.
Martha's attire for the evening seems to be that of an Edwardian English schoolgirl. Dainty. Demur. Neat and tidy. Her hair is tied into two long twin tails, bound by red ribbon bows. She's added a small dab of matching red lipstick.
For the moment, she's shunned her Blush of Life but she emits no Beast and may well, for those who don't know her, appear Mortal.
It's obvious that she's wearing hipster style spectacles, a straw boater hat, a blazer with some heraldic device on her breast pocket; highly polished Oxford style shoes and white knee socks. The knee sock on her false leg has slipped down to her metal ankle. Martha doesn't seem aware of this yet.
She's stood happily at the bottom of The Stairs.
Leaning on her cane and quietly waiting for Colonel Fury.
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