Club Life in the Orpheus.

[MissTris]

Club Orpheus, located out of the way on what appears to be a broken pier is truly one of the most notorious and well liked places of the Under City residence. Three stories tall, the bottom has been shelled out and made into the dance floor for the races.
A mirror ceiling looks down upon patrons of all shapes, sizes and species, and when it can see through the near 24-7 masses, the polished oak floor. On one side of the room is a large stage, set for it's singers and bands, or DJ, which ever comes. Tonight's feature is the most well known and liked DJ who often returns, blaring the thrums that get beings flowing. The stage it set deep so exhibiting dances may come and grace the crowds with their seductive movements. Small stages dot here and there along the walls, between the alcoves, where many go for various reasons, not all of them wholesome. On the floor are islands of raised floor, and some with poles for the more vibrant movers and shakers. This is not a place to be timid, it's a place to forget and be wild, be for a night if at least just a few hours, the beast you are inside and out.
The bar traverses a large portion of the back wall and is tended by a pair, often a male and female duet of cocktail mixing and drink sloshing lending a large feline or canine ear to what you're saying, and often having a handy cure in words and alcohol.
The second floor has been redone, and is a variety of bedrooms, twenty in all, five of which are locked and off limits but to certain selected patrons. The rest are rented for the night, or a few hours, maybe the day should you so choose. Most are tastefully decorated in ocean scenes, some are designed more towards....certain tastes.

The third floor belongs to Drake, his henchmen, and some of the council Pets. Whether they live up there or simply work up there is a mystery no one can solve. Drake rarely comes down amid the people, and when he does it's disguised so no one is aware of him. The council Pets thread along the dance floor often, picking partners for the night and trying to carry them away. Those who are particularly unwilling...seem to disappear and not come back. Guards are posted at the stairs to the second and third levels.

[Draconis]

The cresset moon shined upon a dark figure walking along the sidewalk. His head was pointed towards the ground. The man...no, not a man, or a human as one would say, but a werewolf. His black bangs covered his face, showing no features other than his small stubble. He wore a black t-shirt with red splatter across it, representing blood. Rips and tears showed the fit body that was underneath the shirt. He wore black, baggy jeans that sagged over his black tennis shoes. His hands were tucked into his jean pockets, a wallet chain dangled from the side. Silver studs ran across the werewolf's waist, holding the jeans somewhat up. A smacking sound came from his mouth followed by a popping noise and the scent of what seemed to be copper and ruse. Blood.

He stopped, bringing his head slightly up to check the sign of the building. He was seeking Club Orpheus, and he had found it. Reaching out with his hand, the werewolf opened the door, and entered the club.

[MissTris]

I've owned this house a long time...at least in a sense. It belonged to my adopted grandmother, who passed it over to me on her death. I moved in here now about two weeks ago, since I got a job set up part time at the Cataway Park, the drive distance is not killer and the sight is beautiful. So, now I'll settle into that beautiful house, presently alone...except for the ever present company of my own personal demon. Never mind him though, Soon I'll be going to to the park...so why not for tonight at least...enjoy what this new Undercity has to offer me?

(skipping forward in a calm day))

Tonight I'm dressed in Clubbing attire, it's been a while, but moving into a new place, I felt I ought to get out and perhaps meet some locals who at least shared the aspect of being 'not human.' Clubs have always attracted me, the thrum, jump, pumping power behind the music. The thrashing, mesh of flesh, fur, bone or other appendages. In this half form my bare arms tingle in excited goose flesh with the smell of them. A black tank top which shows my C bust well and hides my soft rounded belly allows all easy glance. Drawing the eye further is the glint of a silver crescent moon on a leather rope.
The only decoration on my arms tonight is maple and cherry wood bangles three on my left arm and two on my right, after all...left has it's connotations. Black leather fingerless gloves draw attention to long fingers with rough pads. Moving down, I chose my decorated pants. Random doodles from belt line to hem in colorful sharpie dance in the light as I dance through the crowd, touching here and there, a flick of tail across a hip, a brush of arm again another. I keep my ears flicking, listening tonight I don't feel so much a Dracor as I do a Shark, a Shadow, a predator. Deciding to be bold this evening in this new place, my head swimming with the scent of sweat, love, and gin I hop to one of the smaller stages for dancers and start my swaying fluid dance to the music, waving a hand for a partner to dance with. My brush of tail coppery red and brown flicks over my hips, black tipped ears are turning and wings are held half open. Come! Come dance with me, come play with me, come be my friend today, perhaps tomorrow, perhaps always a friend or maybe more?
No hand immediately forthcoming I take to an island stage, and swirl and move in fluid grace gifted to me in such places only as this, for a Dracor I am most often clumsy and wayward, but a good soul none the less.

I'm sure...should I ever find a mate I would not club anymore, not without permission from her or maybe a him? For tonight I belong to myself, and in a club my personality is not the same as normal. It's the only time I do not care about what I find, or who I find. The only time...it's time to dance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Following behind Damien is a huge sin black canid, it's clear it's canine at least though it has weird movements like a cat. Wings are tucked in so close to the sides that it only seems to have weird growths, so fine are the lines of shadow. It sniffs at Damien and lets out a purr, a real huge feline purr as though satisfied with something. In the passing of a streetlight along the pier silver shines around it's neck.

someone's pet, an exotic most likely.

The Monster of a canine comes closer, but no sound comes it it aside from that first sniffing and the purr. Silent as a ghost. He's close enough now that a back swing would smack him in the face. His eyes, which catch in the little light there is between the lamp posts burn with their own night seeing light in vibrant, and murderous purple.
With a hruf and a snap of teeth, nicking the side of Damien's hand the beast surges forward and into the shadows ahead, gone from sight in moments. Hidden in the shadows, waiting for Damien again. This beast is in a particular sort of mood.
He shifts and stands naked but for the cuffs at his wrists and collar on his neck still a good twenty feet from the door, back in view again. His arms are crossed, his sin black tail swings back and forth behind him...and his purple eyes burn.

[Draconis]

The scent of the canine was covered by the scent of blood, Damien continued chewing. Missing the gum and instead piercing his pink tongue, many swear words escaped the werewolf's mouth as blood seeps into his mouth. A growl then soon erupted from his mouth as the feeling of the nick made Damien turn his head at where the large canine once stood. Irritated, he continued entering the club. Once inside, he closed his crystal blue eyes and inhaled a deep scent. The scent of sweat, lust, and blood filled his nostrils.

He exhaled, dashing his eyes to the shadows as if he felt watched. No scent entered his nostrils and Damien continued to enter onto the dance floor, heading for the back. The werewolf was thirsty and felt the need of alcohol. Any would do, for it did not matter to him. Flicking his bangs out of his face with a quick motion of his head, Damien sat upon a stool and ordered a shot of Vodka. While he waited, Damien turned around and watched all that were dancing. Some rather attractive females giggled and glanced at him as he made a 'What's up' motion with his head. Realizing that his drink was awaiting him, the werewolf swallowed the small glass and asked for another round.

[Blitz]

She has been pacing to and fro infront of the door for a good while now. Debating on what she shall do first, passing glances from strangers, who look obviously confused by the scene. It appears to look like an oversized plush doll, yet there is human in her as well. Confusion often crosses the features of many at the sight of this- thing. Finally, just finally, she decides it's time to enter the place where the music reaches new heights and the drinks flow free. Sweaty dancers mix in sweet harmony with the over flow of alcohol. Lifeless wings sag on her back, swaying this way and that as she slowly creeps into the scene. Movements are sudden bursts of energy as this odd face makes her way over to the bar, none the less. Blitz gently takes hold of a toxic drink, one mixed with juice and vodka, her favorite.

It's sweet to the taste and washes away the foul taste of the bad day she'd just lived. Slipping away from the bar, her eyes raise to the figuire of someone dancing upon one of the strewn out islands. Watching the way she moves for a moment, sipping at her drink. Blitz feels her own hips shake slightly, but she is far too into washing away the weary feeling. Foot tapping, a few creatures pass by yelling happy words and swaying about. A grin graces her features as she watches them, the skin like fabric upon her features stands out against the darkness that's only beaten by sudden, vicious lights.

A burly figuire pushes passed the lightweight doll, she stumbles slightly but does not speak ill words to him. Tonight, Blitz is only going to search herself for a positive look, for tonight she will dance and drink away any harsh words or memories. On this evening, in her black jean shorts, a white shirt with sleeves that go to the elbows, yellow in color. Backpack slugged thoughtlessly over her shoulder and foot tapping in a ragged pair of shoes. In all this, Blitz will lose herself and then be found once more, for that's how it is on the dance floor.

[MissTris]

Asa DeNarsha walks in naked, as a pet you do not have personal space or much in the way of shame. Subject to EVERYTHING under his masters Asa does not have choices about what they want from him, but nor does he care. He goes through to the upper floors without hassle from the large guards, and to his rooms. He never bothers to turn on the lights, though he has many, a candle flickers into life as he passes it, but it's neighbors stay unlit. This is a modified power by his master that he can control in the rooms of the club he enters, catch the lights on or off. Such a waste of time to turn them on or light the candles. He dresses in his preference tight jeans, modified to fit his tail easily. No shirt, but he draws up his fishnet gloves, they reach half way up his fore arms, and keep the view distracted from his upper arms, where there is a slight deformation. No one would know the wiser...lest they get to close.
He brushes some dirt from his wrist cuffs, which he'd taken off to draw on the gloves. They normally snap tightly and never open, but for here. Outside of the Club they will never come off, and he can't leave without them. His Collar...that will only come off in the hands of a council member.
Dressed now...well...to a degree at any rate, he drops down the stairs again, wings neatly tucked behind him, flicking now and then ruffling his hair. Descending easily, and mixing with the people, the life he leads is all play. Wild and crazy, always busy with his actions...but it's all fun to him. He immediately targets in on the male he'd found outside, but does not come to him. Instead he mounts an island and gives the ladies and men an eye full of Council Pet glory. Many do know what the silver cuffs and black and silver collar mean, but not all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aime's eyes are closed in slits, observing those around her. Catching sight of an oddity, or to her it is. A child? What is a child doing in a club? Aime does not know the Club Orpheus...she's still so new. Wings flicking out she jumps into an open space and drops down closer to Blitz's level, so as not to seem as scary, despite being in a half stage, so she's got a bit of a mane and long fur on her cheeks "Hey there, are you lost?" she yells to be overheard, tail wagging. She jumps a little at a brush of skin over her bare shoulders, another stranger, letting her know what is thought of her. Her bushy tail waves, and people step to avoid it.

[Blitz]

Her gaze flickers, a voice is challenging the music, her head turns to look at the lady who had previously been upon one of the islands. Head tilting to the side, she studies her features for a good few moments, this being is rather strange looking. The plushie wings move slightly, Blitz's delayed reaction as she gives the Dracor a bit of space. Satisfied with the distance, she takes another long drink and gives Aime a childish grin. "No, I'm fully aware of where I am- are you lost?" She inquires, it seems this creature does not know the ways of the Undercity.

Age is but a number in this place, even if she was quite possibly the youngest to be roaming the floor of this club. Still yet, Blitz's hips give a slight sway as the music wishes only to drag her into the crowd. But for now, she would finish her fourth drink of the night and converse with this lady before her. "What are you- exactly?" The young lady questions with little thought to how she may have sounded to Aime. Eyes continuing to go from her drink to Aime once more, brows quirked in questioning.

[Draconis]

A few shots went by before Damien decided he need no more. The werewolf was not interested in getting drunk, but rather having a good time. A wicked smirk overcame his mouth, raising his hand he scratched his small stubble. The sight of the weird female interested the werewolf, for she was talking to another strange female. Interested, he stood up and poped his neck, moving it in a circular motion. With a flick of his head, Damien moves his black bangs out of his face once more.

Graciously, the werewolf walked towards the female. He could not walk straight, for he was slightly stoned. Approaching Blitz and Aime, a smile overcame his face. "Ladies, how are you all tonight?" HE said this coyly, though he was only messing with the two. His mouth smelled of blood, delicious to him, but disgusting to others, though many do not know he is a werewolf. Staring at the two females with his cold crystal stare, Damien awaits an answer. Tonight is a good night, he thought, so he would socialize, though probably not too many others at the moment had the urge to kill such as he.

[MissTris]

She is not sure what to make of the young girl asking her if she is lost, a wane look crosses over her face, "I'm a Dracor, and I am new here...does it show?" With hardly a movement her form finished it's change, though a bit taller, only just, her shape is the same, only now a wolfish face grins at Blitz, with crimson scales decorating around her golden blue flecked eyes. They smile with the rest of her face, genuine.

She is going to explain what her kind really are, when words hit her ears, which fold back around her head hearing better. She turns her angular head enough to look over her shoulder at the Male, Damien, who is behind and slightly to her right. His tone sets off the 'asshole' vibes and she stands up strait, all.....five feet of her, not counting her ears. She turns and looks at him quizzically 'Pardon?' she mouths, but does not really speak and tugs her ear and shrugs. Pretending she had not heard him properly. Looking around again to Blitz though she gives a smile and a wink.

[Foxxy]

Foxxy walked around in circles of the entrance to Club Orpheus. He was,at the moment,haveing a hard time deciding if he should go in and get drunk again,or just go back home and work on some papers or something. He stopped for a moment,perfectly still,and walked thru the door. Instantly,a smile lit his sandy face as he rolled the collar down of his black shirt to reveal the red part of his hair. He wore a thing long sleeve under the shirt. On the shirt,he drew swirls and cresents with white paint,his personal style. To get his night started,he walked over to the bar and ordered a few Vodkas and downed them fairly quickly,then moved his way,in strange movements even though he wasnt drunk,to the dance floor,but didnt get his chance to dance,for he spotted to girls that stood out. In his strange movements again,he moved his way to Aime and Blitz. "Fine night dontcha ya think?" he asked,nodding to Damien.

[Draconis]

Damien grew irritated. He hated when people did not listen, though he ignored it. "Never mind. I was politely asking how you fine ladies are doing tonight." This time, though, he was not being rude. There was a nice side to the murdering cult, but not too often. Mainly around females he acts nice, but only if he does not want to kill the females. His icy blue eyes look to the werebat and a wicked grin overcomes his face. Other were creatures could tell who was one of their own, and Damien could tell that Foxxy was a were creature. Talking to Blitz, Aime, and the stranger, Damien speaks. "I am Damien. I would tell you what I am, though you'd find out if anyone provokes me. Which, usually someone does."

He placed his fingers back in his jean pockets, relying more on his hearing than smelling in case anyone went for his hands again. His thoughts were elsewhere while he awaited an answer. The werewolf was no longer stoned, for the effects of alcohol went away quickly.

[Foxxy]

Foxxy looked to Damien. "I see,nice to meet ya Damien,im Vulpecula,also known as Foxxy." he said,his words like sweet chocolate. He was mainly taklking to Aime and Blitz,having no need to befriend the werewolf,but he wouldnt be rude,it wasnt in his nature. He smiled warmly at the two woman. "What might your names be? I souppose that they are as beautiful as your faces are." he said,his smile slowly becoming warmer.

[Blitz]

Normally, this would be Blitz's time to fade into the background and find a smaller group of people. But the somewhat buzzed little doll looked at each new face with a gentle smile. Although, Blitz does not stray far from the now much taller Dracor's side, it seems there is a slight need to protect the newcomer. "I'm Blitz, good ta' meet you." She croons to Damien, Aime, and Foxxy. Running her hands through her already messy looking hair, of course it didn't help in the slightest.

The young lady doesn't have the slightest notion to flee the scene, that would be boring. Instead, she gives Aime a playful bump with her hips and grins at the Dracor as if she's known her for years. "It is rather nice, usually the club seems a bit rough." The words trip over one another slightly, almost hesitant to speak. Looking to the last few sips of her drink, she downs the rest wrecklessly. The sweeat taste of juice and vodka mingling upon her tastebuds and causing her grin to grow even more so.

[Draconis]

Damien grinned at Blitz with his perfect white teeth. "Of course, for now, it is not rough. But I guarantee that while I am around it might get a bit...messy." The taste of blood disappeared from his gum and he grew irritated. Moving his head to look over his right shoulder, Damien spit the gm onto the ground. He then reached into his pocket and took out a package of his blood bubble gum branded Sang or French for Blood. Taking a small piece out, Damien quickly brought it to his mouth. The sweet taste of blood seeped over his taste buds. the lycan's breath began to smell like blood once more. The aroma was strong and spread throughout the group.

[Foxxy]

Foxxy smiled at Blitz. "Cool name,and as you porbaly already know,the statement i said before is true." He said lightly,then his face made a disgusted looked. "Does anybody smell...blood?" He asked,the mettalic scent filling his nose. he then looked over to Damien. "ok,wow,bloody gum,never seen that before." He said as he stepped away,although it didnt help at all. "Anywho,so whats your name?" He asked Aime as he ran a hand thru his hair,pushing bits of it out of his face. he rolled the sleeves of the under shirt up,the heat sorta gettin to him.