![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
How the other half lives...
Who: Mekhet rebels, sympathizers, random drunks, bar patrons
What: Tensions are rising
Where: Jaberwocky's Den, Wonderland
When: Sunday night (July 24)
It's a well-known rumor that the underground sometimes meets at Wonderland. Trick is, no one can ever prove it.
This unholy night has not been designated as an information dropoff. Knowledge is not being passed, a revolution is not building, and the underground, they certainly are not preparing for anything.
--
The lights in the room rotate between flashing scarlet and black. The music is too loud to hold a conversation. The patrons are too drunk to care.
Sixty or is it eighty men and women are dancing, very close to one another. Drinks are knocked onto the floor. Someone throws a punch, and very quickly, that person is nowhere to be seen.
A man stumbles out of the bathroom, looking aroused yet sedated. His smile is wide open, and his expression looks like a fools -- an unnatural pairing to his spiked hair, dragon tattoo, and pierced ear. The fool rubs his neck once or twice and falls down on a nearby couch. A woman exits the same bathroom. She's beautiful, but you can't really put your finger on why. Her hair is slicked up into a pony and she's smiling out of satisfaction. She chuckles a bit at the fallen-over man and exits towards the back alley.
Two men sitting in a back booth clink their beer bottles together. The labels have both been ripped off, or perhaps the bottles never came with any.
What: Tensions are rising
Where: Jaberwocky's Den, Wonderland
When: Sunday night (July 24)
It's a well-known rumor that the underground sometimes meets at Wonderland. Trick is, no one can ever prove it.
This unholy night has not been designated as an information dropoff. Knowledge is not being passed, a revolution is not building, and the underground, they certainly are not preparing for anything.
--
The lights in the room rotate between flashing scarlet and black. The music is too loud to hold a conversation. The patrons are too drunk to care.
Sixty or is it eighty men and women are dancing, very close to one another. Drinks are knocked onto the floor. Someone throws a punch, and very quickly, that person is nowhere to be seen.
A man stumbles out of the bathroom, looking aroused yet sedated. His smile is wide open, and his expression looks like a fools -- an unnatural pairing to his spiked hair, dragon tattoo, and pierced ear. The fool rubs his neck once or twice and falls down on a nearby couch. A woman exits the same bathroom. She's beautiful, but you can't really put your finger on why. Her hair is slicked up into a pony and she's smiling out of satisfaction. She chuckles a bit at the fallen-over man and exits towards the back alley.
Two men sitting in a back booth clink their beer bottles together. The labels have both been ripped off, or perhaps the bottles never came with any.