(LSE) Party at the Edge

[Yumyumcrow]

Its a funny place: the Edge.

Is not just a physical location; its a state of being. To be on the edge is to be walking the tight rope; standing on the knife edge of existence - one false move and you fall into oblivion. To be on the edge is freedom, though. For to be on the edge means to exist in the narrow gulf that separates things, whether that thing is something tangible or purely in the realm of ideas, it does not matter. To live on the edge, man, is to transcend.

Kulture Club existed on the Edge. There was barely any legal paperwork for the club, yet those on the street knew where it was. It would never play the best bands or the greatest DJ's, yet it was nearly always full on a saturday night. The appeal, instead, came the Edge - Kulture Club operated out of a derelict warehouse on the fringes of an industrial estate. The area had been slated for demolition and redevelopment for some time, yet the club remained. The thrill of the edge was this: the club might not be there next week; tonight, the cops might close it down once and for all. The edge stimulated the palette; made the ordinary into an Adventure.

And then, inevitably, the stencil had gone up: a luscious pair of red lips with silly white fangs...

And we are off! @Martha Villiers Chrisie Whisper Ashley Cohen Forn Clakes Edwin Bridges Steven Angel Ducard - over to you

Its another night on the edge. The club is packed; the herd seethes and pulsates to the dub step that hammers the dusty concrete and rust spattered girders. Flickering light: alternating black and harsh colours. Disorienting, the space seems simultaneously large and intimate. Ravellers flail; cliques form and chatter behind pillars and in gloomy nooks and crannies, washed blue in the garish, scintillating, light.

Out on the edge, hunting conditions are almost perfect. If you are willing to take the chance. Do you?

[Ashley Cohen]

[ri]http://mysave.in/v1/images/unw7nt6dy78e9j647b4.jpg[/ri]A young girl, walked alone at night along the outskirts of seemingly abandoned warehouses. Once upon a time, they may have thrived and been lively with production and busy with workers - Now they face the inevitable demise against the elements and demolition; hiding crackheads and the homeless in their tattered and torn shells. It was no place for anyone to be walking alone, let alone a young girl...

Unlike the buildings that were falling apart with age, Ashley was timeless. Every sunset, she awoke looking exactly the same as the day she died a few hundred years ago and there was no end in sight. It was superficial, though, as she had changed. She had grown stronger, faster, tougher and most importantly...smarter.

Ashley stepped up to the club, dressed to impress. An outfit to blend in wasn't much of a stretch for Ashley to pull off. The skirt would be blinding with the touch of a strobe light, and her sneakers held a similar reflective nature. There was still form and function to her wardrobe as it gave her freedom of movement.

Ashley's eyes fell upon the tag with a smirk forming on her lips. There was something that she could admire in their brazen stupidity, but admiration wouldn't restrain her in the least. The only thing more dangerous than Ashley, was Ashley with an agenda...

[Martha Villiers]

Martha was out and about. She'd pretend to herself that she was on patrol. But, she was really out hunting.

Ah, she'd decided on mixing the style of Harley Quinn and a 1950s cheerleader. Her hair tied into twin bunches...sporting one of the shortest pleated skirts she'd ever dared to wear...red ankle socks and sneakers.

Minty toothpaste and scarlet lipstick added to the look.

If she encountered anything strange, she was ready for that too, with walking cane in hand. She shared Ashley's desire for something for the club, and practical too.

Smiling, spectacles perched at the end of her nose, her C-Leg creaking, she limped and skipped and limped again, to the crowded entrance and to study the other club goers. Wondering if any, eventually, one of them might be lured to her side.

Inspired by the recent positive press of another leg amputee, she was looking forward to showing off her own prosthesis. A boost to her confidence.

A vital spark to her recently bruised ambitions!

Even the grim and rusty decay all around her and the failed and broken commercial dreams the ruins spoke of didn't dent her initial eagerness.

Skipping closer to the door, she smiled to anyone who looked her way. Almost, almost, for once, hoping they'd spot her C-Leg and pay attention...

-1 Vitae for Blush of Life

[Martha Villiers]

Martha turned around to see who seemed to be talking to her.

A female voice. Martha looked to study the lady's legs and shoes, then traveled up her legs to meet Angel's smile and eyes.

Such beauty!

She gasped.

"G...goodness..." she stammered, "T...thank you." she added a shy, bashful, smile. A small skip made sure her hair waggled with appropriately playful friendliness.

"Thank you!" she repeated. She recognized Angel from Court and her Beast span about in its cage. Chasing a metaphysical tail, looking for another Beast.

Confused at finding none, it settled into its usual state of vigilance.

Martha's cane free hand rubbed hard at her upper thigh, easing some unseen tension there.

"Might I say, Miss, that your style is most arresting, most remarkable! You shall illuminate this club with your elegance!" Martha could hardly believe she'd said that. She'd hoped to feel confident tonight. Until now. Faced with the easy elegance and such graceful beauty...

Though wanting to sneak another look to Angel's shoes and ankles, Martha kept her eager focus on Angel's eyes.

[Edwin Bridges]

Heading out for the night could always be a balancing act, a constant duality that reminded a Kindred of the position they were in. A predator, yes, roaming the places one could without breaking any Laws while knowing that venturing too far without precautions could leave one exposed to their own hunter; time. For beings of possible immortality, time was a curse, ticking away until the sun once again kissed the horizon and seared the flesh from their bones.

Edwin had no wish to taste that particular embrace. Not quite yet. So when he headed out this evening, his first port of call was to feed, easily locating a member of his small posse near to his current abode to drink. He couldn't recall the girl's name but with some sweet talking, she stepped into his GTO for several minutes. When she emerged, she was no doubt woozy but had a smile on her face. Edwin only took a little, enough to cover his rising and the blush that was so important when around the kine. One day, he wouldn't need such make overs but until the time he joined Hel, this would have to do.

  Feeding

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2015-01-18 03:55:45		Edwin Bridges rolls 7 to Feeding (PRE + Pers + DV) (10 Again)		4, 8, 5, 8, 1, 3, 3		2 successes

In the muscle car, which he was still paying off month by month, Edwin rolled out towards Kulture Club; that place that was on the verge of Too Far and Just Right. For the Ventrue, it was an opportunity, a way to explore and expand in the gangs he knew of and those he did not. Because, at the end of the night, territory was key. Understanding where one boundary ended and another started. It was information that could come in handy.

Parking the car not far from the club, Edwin debated trying to sneak in his switchblade but thought better of it. In all honesty, he hadn't been practicing what David had taught him and the idea of getting caught with a concealed weapon in a public place didn't exactly sound like fun night out. Instead, he left it in the glove box, getting out from the car and slipping on the leather jacket over a black Guns & Roses tee along with torn denim jeans and a pair of fashionable white sneakers. Locking the GTO, Edwin headed towards the club and paused as he saw three faces he recognised; one only by sight and that weird-ass affliction, the second through hospitality and lemonade, and finally the one who was making his Beast scream from blood, the cute little blond who he just loved to hate.

"Good evening, ladies," Edwin said as he strolled up with the confidence he could exude, "glad to see it wasn't just me who was in the mood for something new tonight. How are y'all doing?"

Blush Active. Signature updated

[Ashley Cohen]

"It is a true pleasure." Ashley couldn't believe her eyes at first and secondly she couldn't believe her luck. With the Poacher's tag upon the building, she knew she had a rare and amusing chance with Martha; To watch ol' pegleg run down a poacher. Martha was a lot like Asa, to Ashley. Not to be underestimated in the least, and while that thought was comical to Ashley, she also knew it was plausible and scarey.

The smile that teased her lips from her imagination only grew when she heard Edwin's familiar voice. She turned and shot him a quick wink. "Better now."

Ashley cast her attention to the other chick, the one that was only vaguely familiar. Ashley gave her a soft nod of her head, as she offered a quick introduction. "Ashley." She did not linger long, before she pointed out the luscious lips with white fangs tag upon the building. "Herein lie poachers..."

[Martha Villiers]

Martha nodded to Edwin and Angel.

But was soon distracted for a moment or two in her lingering study of Ashley's legs and skirt.

Turning to offer a bashful smile to Angel and then Edwin, she nods. Clutching her cane to her chest, Martha adds;

"Oh, indeed, sir! Something new! Change and excitement! These clubs always offer something new!" she adds a cheerful and playful giggle. Her twin tails bob with her motion.

Leaning on her cane again, she offers a bashful smile to Ashley. Another excuse to study Ashley's legs and shoes before smiling to Edwin and Angel again.

Poachers!

As Ashley shares the news about poachers, Martha's attentions flicker from Ashley's shoes and sleek ankles to listen more carefully to what Ashley was saying.

If I can play a part in helping to neutralize them, she reasoned, perhaps I'll be able to help make this Domain safe again! Win back some favor with Asa and the Reeve!

Leaning close to confide more easily with Angel, Ashley and Edwin, she offers in much quieter tones, "I hear that some of the more fringe sub-cultures and gangs experiment with some of their more exotic drugs at places like this. Perhaps the Poachers are at work peddling drugs? It sure would be a fine way to meet intended prey." she nods more meaningfully, as if hinting she was going to be Hunting with greater care and also keen to be part of the Anti-Poacher Posse.

What had begun as a simple night of experimenting with Change, had become something of even greater value.

[Edwin Bridges]

Edwin smiled openly towards Martha, whom he kinda had a soft spot for. Maybe it was part of her whole appearance and the way she presented herself, whatever, the Lord was glad to see her around again.

"Gangs, huh? Well, that's right up my street," he commented towards the former Seneschal, hooking his thumbs into his belt. If this was the case, he'd have to get as much info as possible. Drugs were part and parcel of the street scene, both as income and power. He wasn't a pusher or a user, at least not anymore but knowing who was moving what was always handy.

"Edwin Bridges," he replied to the Haunt, glad to have a name to the face, even if it was like something from a Hitchcock movie.

And then the wink. How to deal with that?

"Looking as fuckable as ever, Ashley."

That'll do.