A flurry of laughter would accompany uneven footsteps leading down a dark alley into a sparsely crowded square. Tuesday nights weren't exactly major moneymakers, but most everyone in the club circuit knew that the Asylum was always a poppin' place to go. The pulsing bass could be heard from at least a block away (something local tenants quite understandibly despised). Once upon a time the club might have been more subtle, less modern, or at least a bit more discrete. Nowadays that just wasn't the case. Even the violet-eyed slaver would surely have placed some of the blame for this on the boney delight of a Derby Dame who insisted on spending three-fifths of her partying time playing the little starlet at Uncle Romax's personal playground.

Tonight the faux battle-battered evening gown of slate gray was trailing along with its spatters of fake blood and gauze rippling a good three feet in the Dame's wake. However, along with with the gray silk there was also black. It was sleek black and ruby red and it belonged to the Demure Darkling currently wrapped against the Derby Dame's side. Close as sisters they looked, but sisters they were not (though perhaps not for lack of trying on the slaver's part).

A cheery greeting in the form of wriggling fingers was flashed to the doorman while the pair went breezing carelessly by. Zombie was the theme of tonight's show. Sami had worked with some of the club 'employees' to get the stage set and everyone not coming for the slave aspect of the club, in other words: the younger folks, were being issued fake monster teeth, a few poppable blood caplets, and a single roll of gauze (all paid for from her own bank account). In truth, the Derby Dame didn't really know how much Romax was told of her antics throughout the week. All she knew was that he hadn't complained and that was enough to make her sufficiently happy. If she was having a good day, then he would attend the show and she would have the honor of basking in his company for the rest of the evening.

Sami suspected that today might be one such day.

With a promise the night before of intention in attending the Club Tuesday night, she was already met by sweet Isir and their night was going quite swimmingly. Once inside, Sami headed backstage after procuring a props bag for the Demure Darkling. In the safety of the walls that were vibrating with the music outside, she turned to the ebon-skinned beauty, all smiles and girlish giggles.

"Okay, so here's how this usually goes. I'll head out there in about half an hour. I have a set of songs already picked out with monster themes... hence the outfit and the--" She gestured to the props bag. The Derby Dame always had too much fun with these events. "We have a totally wicked lights show setup for the number. Now, tonight I'm gonna be mostly on the main stage, but it depends. I know some of the regular dancers are gonna be in the cages tonight. It'll be just fantabulous."

As the Derby Dame had promised it would be, it was.

The show started promptly at elven in the evening with blood red lights and a billowing cloud of fog that obscured the bottom of the stage. The Derby Dame writhed on the floor from a would-be grave. The music was a Rob Zombie starter: Living Dead Girl, a typical favorite. Mixes of Manson, The Misfits, and My Chemical Romance were soon to follow. At the Asylum, shows weren't a spectacle so much as an ambience. That's what Sami enjoyed the most about them. There was something to be said for being a background ornament in a room of pulsating bodies.

At the conclusion of the show the dancers kept up their routine and Sami slipped away for a bit of a break. Glamoured peepers were on the hunt for Isir amongst the others. Would she be with Romax or the others? It only took a short amount of time to find the drowess and bone-white fingers were already reaching out for a jet-black wrist.

"Come on! We're gonna get in the crowd and see what you've got!"

Like a wooden spool floating above rough waters, the music had not yet taken the Dervish Dame beneath its zealous hand. Sami was all energy and constant motion. Frail arms of opalescent flesh were high above her head and waving like palms in the midst of a hurricane. Familiar faces were all around and none were as treasured as the Demure Darkling nearby. The only face in the crowd more beloved than that one was currently nowhere to be seen.

All the same, a thought struck her head as ebon hips swayed and petite body writhed against the masses: Lord Pol will be so pleased.

The tip of her organza train had been lifted and curled around her wrist and between her fingers so that it didn't get trampled by the stomping feet all around them. An attention-deprived girl in her own right, Sami delighted at the looks coming their way as the Darkling and the Dame pulsed to the beat of gutteral bass. True blues practically glowed like white cloth beneath a blacklight here in the darkenss of the dance floor.

"And this, Isir, is dancing. Turns out you're quite good at it." Two beads of swirling violet caught her eyes and Sami moved like a viper about to strike. Sinewy and serpentine, the line of her pelvis swayed until she was behind the awakening drowess. The deep well of her palms cupped silk-clad hips to align their bodies at an equal pace.

Twins in perfect unison, she would make sure they felt the rush together.

"Lord Pol will be so pleased." And it surprised Sami that this knowledge made her proud as well.