tiny_dancer81: (Car Ride)
[personal profile] tiny_dancer81
The Dive never really got crowded until the weekends, but they had s steady stream of people coming in on weeknights as well. As the club's promoter, Theresa dealt with the reviewer from the local entertainment rag in addition to trying to book new acts. All in all, things were looking promising. With summer nearly here, the college crowd would have more time and money to spend in places like this.

The vampire was nursing a beer on the patio. She had thought of suggesting they start serving something stronger, but she hadn't gotten around to it yet. It sounded like the latest set was wrapping up. She checked her upper lip for beer foam, hauled her slight weight off of the bench where she'd been sitting.

Summer in Las Vegas might man the days were long, but the nights usually made up for it.
tiny_dancer81: (Shadows)
[personal profile] tiny_dancer81
Theresa had taken to hanging out at Cool Beans even when Maddy wasn't behind the counter. They served good espresso, and their pastries didn't get stale from sitting in the glassed-in case for ages. A small portion of her paycheck was going into the register at Page Turners, providing her with paperbacks. She had a major crush on Jackie Collins' Lucky Santangelo.

The vampire was currently taking up space on one of the couches near the back of the establishment. There was a book in her lap and two empty cups on the table to her left. The plate that accompanied the cups was sprinkled with crumbs from a blueberry scone. Even though she couldn't really taste food anymore, she liked the play-acting that eating involved.

The bell above the shop's door jingled, and Theresa glanced up from Lucky's adventures in the mob to see if she knew who had just stepped inside.
valerie_vause: (Shirt)
[personal profile] valerie_vause
The campus of UNLV thrived during the week but during the weekend it buzzed. Saturday night made it hard to go anywhere without tripping over one frat party or another and for once Valerie wasn’t trying to avoid them. She’d worked herself hard over the past few weeks, and the letter she received, while nice, had only caused her to focus on the loss. That was why she decided to skip patrol for a night. To actually let off steam and act her age for once, and participate in the age old tradition of drowning one's sorrows. It didn’t matter that she hardly knew anyone, people had been smiling and talking to her all night and she realised that was the point. Everyone was out to have a good time, and with it being on campus, it made it easier to stumble back to their rooms without busting out money for a cab.

By the second beer she was getting the hang of strangers just coming over to talk to her. By the fourth she was actually smiling again, and then she realised that maybe if she kept drinking, she’d forget why she’d been sad to begin with. Which was why she grabbed a fifth from the keg before a guy got his friends to hold him up over it while he braced himself upside down to chug. She heard someone say ‘keg-stand’ and found herself cheering him on with everyone else. “I could totally do that.” She said to no-one in particular and raised her plastic cup up to take a gulp of the frothy liquid.

The music was loud and her muscles were relaxed, the faintest buzz was humming through her frame and she grinned as he coughed and spluttered before he got back to his feet. Someone must have been counting because he’d gotten to eleven seconds and people were clapping him on the back. Some others were throwing teasing comments his way, apparently he hadn’t broken the record but had made a good effort. Frat parties, Valerie mused, were interesting in the same way nature documentaries piqued her attention. This was all normal behaviour but it felt so foreign that she couldn’t help but grin and look around.

Girls and guys were all talking and joking around, some had branched into groups where they were playing various games. Beer pong was happening in one room, in another they were all trying to bounce quarters into a glass, a mixed group were playing with an empty bottle and as she walked into the kitchen to grab a snack she heard the phrase ‘never have I ever’. Valerie at least knew beer pong but maybe she’d join in a few of the others. It was with that thought that she grabbed a packet of chips and crunched her way through them before she even made it back to the main room. She ditched the empty packet and chugged the rest of her beer. Truth be told she wasn’t much of a drinker, but being what she was at least meant that it would take a lot more before she fell on her ass. Even if she did, well, she was in college, it was a rite of passage. Wasn’t it? Time for a refill.
tiny_dancer81: (Black and White)
[personal profile] tiny_dancer81
She just wanted to see if she could do it, that was all.

Theresa had picked a no-name bar off of the Strip rather than somewhere she'd been seen before. There was fake wood paneling on the walls and plastic ferns in wicker baskets on spindly-legged tables. The fat bartender hadn't even asked to see her ID. The room smelled like cigarette smoke and booze. It was almost last call.

She'd been nursing a beer for a while, something from the tap. It had gradually become room temperature, then warm, because she was barely sipping at it. Damned good thing it didn't taste like much, since the only thing nastier than animal blood was warm beer.

Reverting to Type? )
birthright_npc: (liquor bottles)
[personal profile] birthright_npc
The Dive, which was prone to a gritty atmosphere, had been transformed for New Year's festivities. A rotating disco ball hung above the crowd, as well as a web of streamers. Colorful lights lit the stage for its five-band line-up, which began with a local cover band and then transitioned to new wave, punk, synthpop, and glam rock acts, all staples of the year in music.

By 11:15 p.m., the crowd was slap-happy and drunk, thanks to happy hour prices on drinks and $1 Jell-o shots. The patio smelled like barbecuing meat and nacho cheese. Merchandise for the Dive and the bands moved quickly.

The world was halfway through the decade and antsy for the second half to begin.

The Fraying Nerves were wrapping up a five-song set and about to clear the stage for the Death Spirals, a band whose hairstyles were a fire hazard.

[Thread: Open to Anyone]


Dec. 30th, 2013 09:47 pm
tiny_dancer81: (Car Ride)
[personal profile] tiny_dancer81
She'd meant to check out Ragnarok anyway.

The upper level of the attraction was a haunted house, and Theresa entertained herself by trying to tell what species some of the staff might be. She even struck up idle conversation with a couple of them. When the vampire was pointed towards the entrance to the lower level, she descended the stairs, then paused at the bottom step.

She didn't even know if Katherine would show up or was going to be around. The other vampire had seemed like the secretive type, but Theresa's curiosity was piqued enough that she at least wanted to have a look around.

There was a bar, and she ordered three shots of tequila. She would hang out and see what happened. There were worse ways to kill a night.
birthright_npc: (Vegas)
[personal profile] birthright_npc
The grand ballroom of the Skylark Hotel was awash in shades of forest green and gold. The charity ball had been arranged to benefit a local children's hospital, and so a large percentage of the proceeds from the door tickets and bar would be donated to renovate the facility. A two-story Christmas tree towered over the buffet tables of festive finger foods and chocolate fountain, and people had placed unwrapped toys under the limbs to be delivered to the hospital the next day. Champagne flowed freely. There were two stages for the live jazz musicians that would play all night. Santa's scantily clad elves wandered about the room with trays of shrimp and caviar. A dance floor took up the center of the space underneath a gleaming chandelier and there were beautifully decorated round tables on the edges of the room.

The ticket price was manageable, and a few tickets had gone out free for radio promotions and the like.

Luckily for the undead, the decor did not include wall-to-wall mirrors, though there were a few on the high ceiling.

In various corners, Vegas performance artists entertained to ooohs and aaahs. For instance, there was a man eating a gleaming sword in the corner.

Thread: Open to Anyone
tiny_dancer81: (Slouch)
[personal profile] tiny_dancer81
Theresa was grouchy.

While Halloween was a favorite time of year for her, the same could not be said of Christmas, which just reminded her of when she was still human and living with her parents. There was a reason she had started to run away. And the holiday music just made it worse.

Things at the Dive had been going all right. The New Year's Eve show was being put together, and she'd discreetly made sure that The Frayed Nerves would be playing later in the set this year. There had been some griping, but she'd smoothed it over before Mike could get wind of it.

Not that she had returned Maddy's phone call. She'd listened to the message repeatedly, but never called the other brunette back. Now that it had been so long, trying to make contact again would probably make her look weird. But when she was weird, maybe that wasn't so bad.

She knew the reasons she was blocked about it, which was why she was knocking on Daniel's door tonight. She'd deliberately been walking a wide circle around his neighborhood on the off chance that she might run into Holly, but she'd done some recon earlier and found the mortal not around. Maybe they were on the outs too?

Diva Fever

Nov. 26th, 2013 08:47 pm
tiny_dancer81: (You Okay?)
[personal profile] tiny_dancer81
Despite the fact that it wasn't the weekend, the Funhouse was really crowded.

Theresa had been concentrating on business, work for the Dive. She'd gotten some flyers printed up on the cheap at Kinko's, then posted them at various places on the Strip. The local entertainment rag was on her second-hand coffee table back at her apartment. She had tentative plans to call their reviewer and ask them to come catch a show. Her trial period was almost over, and she wanted to be able to show Mike some improvement.

The diminutive vampire was currently out on the dance floor, having decided to relax tonight. She'd fed half an hour ago, coaxing someone into the girl's john to latch onto their wrist. This time, there'd been no blonde Slayer to interrupt her dinner.
cian_oneill: (Default)
[personal profile] cian_oneill
It had been three weeks since Hallowe'en, and still nothing had come to light about the vampire who had lead the bloodbath at the Shark Tank. Cian had prowled the street when he could, spending more nights in Vegas since the attack than he usually did. He finally figured the one place he might be able to find out something, and after sourcing the password, and satisfying the bouncer, he walked into Seventh Circle and headed for the bar.

If there was anywhere that information on the activities in the demon world could bandied about like schoolgirl gossip, it would be here.

"Whiskey," he told the bartender, leaning an elbow on the bar and starting to survey the area, seeing who was there, and more importantly, what.
whistlersmum: (Default)
[personal profile] whistlersmum
'May the drive-in never die', Whistler thought to himself.

It was just past dusk, and The Blob was about to ooze itself across the outdoor screen. He'd hooked the speaker inside-out on the Impala's driver-side window, so the audio would project outward. He rested against the windshield, shoes off so as to not scuff the new paint on the hood. It'd cost him enough to get out of the impound and repaired. He wasn't about to cause any more damage.

A cooler full of beer sat on the roof of the car, an open can to his right. A jumbo bag of popcorn rested on his lap.

This took him back. The Globe in England; the Colliseum in Rome; watching Oedipus Rex in the original Greek. But nothing compared to a good old-fashioned drive-in theater.

And Steve McQueen. No one could touch him. Not even Olivier.

(Open to anyone.)

Rent's Due

Oct. 27th, 2013 08:49 pm
maddy_ricks: (ugly bedspread)
[personal profile] maddy_ricks
When she finished a shift waiting tables at Cool Beans but it was too early to go home, Maddy sometimes curled up on a couch and read a used book. Those days generally corresponded to that time of the month when her landlord was hanging around looking for rent money, and she didn’t quite have it. Today, she was curled up with a copy of Stephen King’s novel Pet Sematary. She had slipped her shoes off and tucked her feet under herself. Her toes flexed in a pair of socks with black cats on them, and her fingers sifted through the ends of her hair.

“Hey Malcolm, bring me another coffee,” she called.

“Get it yourself,” grumbled her coworker, who was drying a load of dishes and stacking them on a shelf.

“I’m not working.” She flipped to the end of a chapter and skimmed a page.

“Are you paying?”


“Then get it yourself.”

Maddy sighed and dragged herself off the couch. The novel, which she set upside down on the fat, upholstered arm, slipped to the floor and lost her page. She crammed her feet half in her shoes and stumbled to the counter, where she dangled her empty cup by the handle. “Meet me halfway.”

He scowled and took the mug.
tiny_dancer81: (You Okay?)
[personal profile] tiny_dancer81
If there was a mirror in the back office, she was screwed.

Theresa had bought new clothes for the occasion, shelling out a decent amount of money because she wanted to look like any average twenty-something looking for a job. She'd seen the ad in the trades - Help Wanted - Local club is seeking someone to promote musical groups and schedule appearances. Her fake ID was in her wallet, which was in her back pocket. Just in case the manager asked.

The Dive technically wasn't open yet. There were only a few cars in the tiny lot. The vampire parked Clarence close to the street, then locked the doors. She pushed the door to the club open and stepped inside. She didn't have any experience working at a bar, but hooking was all about self-promotion. She only felt a little apprehensive.

The guy from the concert the other night, the one with the braid of hair down to his butt, was behind the bar. He was filling the beer tap. Theresa stepped closer, attracted his attention. "Uh, yeah, I was looking for..." A short pause while she looked at the piece of paper she'd scrawled the manager's name on. "...Mike?"

"Mike's in the office," Braided Hair said, pointing to the right of the small stage. Theresa squared her small shoulders. She could do this.
tiny_dancer81: (Default)
[personal profile] tiny_dancer81
Old habits died hard.

As much as Theresa was thinking about giving up the life, backsliding had probably been inevitable. She'd left The Dive the night before, having missed Maddy backstage, and she'd slept most of the day, waking up just before sundown. Having no job meant she had nothing to do but fart around her apartment, and she flipped channels for two hours while it got later, then clicked off the set because she was restless and bored.

It wasn't that she'd intended to go on the stroll, but she found herself having a margarita in a lounge on the Strip, and a man in an Armani suit and too much product in his hair sat down on the stool next to her. The man had an accent, something kinda-sorta European. Theresa, being from California, realized he didn't speak English very well. She did, however, understand it when he offered her five hundred dollars to join him in his suite at the Skylark.

Yeah, old habits died really hard.

Afterwards, he said she could stay in the suite while he went downstairs to meet someone. He'd been on the phone beforehand, talking rapid-fire in his native language, switching to English every now and then. Theresa was too busy envying the fact that the bathroom was nearly the size of her tiny apartment to pay attention. When he left, she called room service and ordered a pitcher of margaritas, then settled into an overstuffed chair to watch cable.
rhiannon_lee: (yellow shirt)
[personal profile] rhiannon_lee
Rhiannon ordered a domestic beer because it was cheap and leaned against a pillar by the bar, her plastic cup full to spilling. She sipped at the foam. The place was a cave. It had dark ceilings with wooden rafters, a polished concrete floor, a few tables scattered in the vicinity of the bar, and an open space by the stage where a punk band played through the third song in a short set. The walls were covered in stapled flyers advertising everything from upcoming concerts to eyebrow waxing. On one side of the venue, there was an exit leading to a fenced patio where many of the smokers congregated.

Despite its grubby appearance and smell of old beer, Rhiannon liked the Dive because it wasn’t pretentious. It was a true hole in the wall for locals.

She watched a couple of people jumping around and dancing.

[Thread: Open to anyone]
maddy_ricks: (flapper)
[personal profile] maddy_ricks

Maddy painted the words on a sandwich board and set up shop at the gas station. For a percentage of her profits, the manager allowed her to hook a water hose up to the faucet. She set up a station with buckets, soap, Windex, wet and dry towels and a cash box. On a steady diet of Slushees and hot dogs, she scrubbed cars until sundown in a bikini top, torn jeans, and a baseball cap.

"Anything for a buck," she muttered as she pocketed a few sweaty dollars and checked the time.

[Thread: Open to Anyone]
tiny_dancer81: (Tousled)
[personal profile] tiny_dancer81
Maybe Holly's right. Maybe I'm stuck when I don't have to be.

Vampires get trapped pretty easily. Trapped in time, the era they were turned, the habits they had at the time their human selves died. They didn't have career day where I was living before I was turned, and so I never had the option of developing job skills. The best you could hope for was a meal and maybe a place to sleep, and I only looked for that in between getting high.

Maybe it can be different now. I'm immortal. Even if I'll always look like a teenager, there's no reason I can't change. I was telling the truth, I don't enjoy what I'm doing now. Being used to something isn't the same thing as liking it. I'm not sure what I'd do if I did get off the streets, but it'd at least be a change.

I need to think this over.


Sep. 28th, 2013 02:42 am
holiday_pirner: (18)
[personal profile] holiday_pirner
The casino overwhelmed with light and sound. A Saturday night, the place was packed elbow to elbow, and Holly was in the thick of it. Bored, restless, and tired of hearing her own voice in her head, she had headed out to the noisiest place she knew.

The brunette walked the casino floor, trying not to spill the martini she had unwisely ordered. Mostly, she just liked them for the olives.

The rows of slots were alive tonight, and dice were thrown carelessly across tables. There was something to catch her eye everywhere she looked. She got fixated on a woman's dress, the entire thing made of dizzying sequins.

A hand caught her forearm, and she swore under her breath when a drop from her glass landed on her shoes. Holly looked up, a man standing there with the toothiest smile she had ever seen. It overwhelmed the rest of his features, which she didn't even bother to note.

"Hey," he said, and his voice blended into everyone else's so seamlessly that Holly couldn't be certain if he had really spoken at all. "Why don't you blow on these for good luck?" And he held the pair of dice in his palm. The brunette wasn't too far gone to notice the wedding band around his finger.

"Why don't you just," she began, adjusting the strap of her dress, "go blow yourself." Holly pulled away, and in her efforts to escape, bumped into the back of another brunette.



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