Halloween Party

[Victoria Stamford]

The first thing long time patrons notice upon entering is that the lighting is more subdued than usual along with the sounds of rustling chains and distant wailing accompanied by the clank of iron bars.

Once the sounds and lighting is absorbed the patrons are hit with realization that they have indeed entered a dungeon thanks to the stone look giving the club the style of a medieval dungeon to fit the occasion. The iron loops fixed to walls and columns, cells, cages, a rack, and even a nonfunctional iron maiden all lent their support in maintaining the atmosphere of an age forgotten despite the inclusion of all the modern suspension equipment, harnesses and furniture.

Upon entering, a wristband is given, giving access to Avalon, Asylum, and Reverence. A simple hole puncher marks off the free drinks.

[West (The Mage)]

What he was missing: a headful of unkempt curly hair, manic eyes, and an overbite that would make a horse proud. What he had: the red overcoat, plaid vest, brown slacks and the signature items; a brown felt hat, authentic Herbert Johnson, and a fifteen foot long striped scarf.

He entered Asylum, half-curious. It had been a while since he had come regularly, when it was run by the regal blond, perhaps he had been 'scared off' by the insistent and eerie Lash designer. Some would see depravity and excess; he saw a forge, where people understood their needs. To surrender, to control, to atone, to release. Some considered hedonism a lack of self-control; others, a connection and understanding. Enlightenment.

As Dr. Who, he was decidedly out of place. Leather, demons, succubi, fallen angels, and the like were the norm, but it was no more weight than the usual discomfort.

Who?

[banner]west[/banner]

[Victoria Stamford]

Soon after The Doctor's entrance to Asylum a devil and a fallen angel walked through the door. The angel wore a collar that was attached to a leash which ended in the devil's hand. They were a difficult pair to miss and many patrons stared approvingly as the two gorgeous women entered. After all the micro-mini the devil wore certainly didn't discourage glances, while the angel got her own fair share of looks.

As Victoria walked the sound of her red PVC creaked and her heals clicked on the floor. In her freehand she held a red riding crop that rhythmically tapped against her calf. They came to a stop and she looked around the club approvingly. Victoria had instructed Chantay for their evening and right now Chantay was aware that she was free to act and speak within reason until they kicked things off.

"So what do you think of what I've how I decorated since you were here last pet?" She asked Chantay in a conversational tone.

Then she turned to the out of place man near them and spoke with a smile, "Nice scarf Doctor."

Victoria

Chantay

[West (The Mage)]

West was engrossed in people watching; the patterns, the connections. Connections he could almost see --and actually see, if he chose-- as inhibitions loosened behind costumes and masks. He drew in a breath, considering an Oblation, when the words registered.

"Thanks, nice...," he began, turning.

Wow. Nice... everything. Curves? Genetics? All of that... and that... and...

"....errr, nice." West finished inanely.

Yes, he was staring. Then he was staring at the ebony submissive, who was just as remarkable.

"I mean, thanks. Thanks. Are you a fan?" he asked. "Or y'all?"

Yep, that's what you do when confronted with two stunning, half dressed women: get Whovian.

Just remember: do not ask if they want to see your TARDIS, and no bigger-than-it-looks jokes. In a few moments this will be nothing more than a should-have-said or should-have-did footnote. They're just nerd sniping.

[Lesingnon]

The feel of the collar around her next once more, the leash binding her to the will of her Mistress, sent familiar sensations of excitement, anticipation, and a hint of trepidation through her. It was already intoxicating, without anything even needing be done to her, a testament to her Mistress's expertise. And perhaps her own eagerness as well, but that particular thought didn't cross her mind.

She'd been rather curious to see how the place appeared this night too. Costumes and such, certainly something that would likely make a huge difference in the appearance of the other two clubs, had always been fairly commonplace here. So the question that had been lurking in her mind was what changes would be made here? And she'd never have expected the drastic change in decor as she made her way into the interior. "You've outdone yourself, Mistress, it's amazing." And seeing all the various pieces of equipment set up with the medieval backdrop did send another thrill through her.

Then she heard Mistress's voice again and turned to face the man she addressed. An amused grin as he stumbled over his words, turning into a short giggle as he ogled the two women. Though dressed as the two women were it wasn't exactly a surprise.

And just when she was about to ask if the cat, or perhaps devil, had his tongue he apparently found it again. And she flashed him an apologetic smile, "Actually, I'm afraid I don't know where your costume's from."

[Max Heinz]

*Max fiddles with his Pince-nez glasses for the thousandth time that evening as he enters the dimmed lights of the club. His heightened senses easily compensate, killing the effect for the Mekhet. But then, he wasn't here for the atmosphere.

In truth, he should be spending the night at home, studying over some ancient mystery or practicing his marksmanship. Instead, the then vampire chose to spend the evening here, in a place that still made him supremely uncomfortable. However, if there one thing his years in the Ordo had taught him, sometime important lessons came from uncomfortable situations. Either he would open up to the place, or confirm his earlier misgivings; either way tonight would be educative for Max. If only those damned glasses weren't so annoying...*

Max's outfit (XXL)

*He makes his way deeper into the club, searching for anyone he is familiar with in order to establish some base reference point in this ocean of unfamiliarity. *

[Max Heinz]

*Max holds his hand out to the man; he had heard the name but not talked to the man. Well, if it was the Kindred he was thinking of. He didn't set off Max's Beast, and he couldn't tell with the mask on.* Tell me your first name is Dorian and I'll know you're putting me on...