* Asylum Club Setting *
All week long it had rained to the point that the river line was up and the cobblestone was stained with sludge from weary travellers. The night before the show temperatures dropped well below freezing the wind made your skin burn far more than a chill ever should. As the sun rose with the dawn of the weekend, the ice began to melt and water once again stained the hardly paved streets of the booming city center.
The moment the sun had set there was a surge of bright lights all converging on a singular block in the downtown district. Beaming magenta bulbs decorated the outside of a fairly modern looking building and ushers and valets lined either side of the walkway where a lush fuschia carpet was rolled out. The smooth rolling stone around this block was remarkably dry and there was a considerable amount of greenery given the season.
For nearly two miles surrounding denizens could hear the sounds coming from inside. A mixture of excited screams and blaring music met the ears with a rush of vibrating bass. A large banner outside was practically blazing with golden writing, illuminated by spotlights whose counterparts were rotating to light up the sky and advertise the location. The words, in bold Broadway print, read: Spectacular Spectacular. Although everything on the outside was decorated in fiery summer tones, the inside was a completely different story altogether.
While two gentlemen in formal black and white tuxedos opened the door a rush of something wintry and aquatic raced across the senses. Circulating air within carried a heavy scent of freshly snapped fruits and flowers along with a certain amount of cool moisture. The feeling was similar to being licked by a rolling fog, but the air was remarkably clear to the eye.
Strobing lights and uniforms of cerulean and powder blue caught the eye from all angles. The only colors in view were cold tones. The main room was a dance hall with your typical displays of glass boxes, hung cages, and windowed rooms with padded walls. It appeared that the facility had been specially decorated for this occasion. Waitresses, likely some of Lord Pol's private stock, carried around clear glass trays with flutes of rather rare silver champagne.
The theatre lay beyond the main room. The entrace was roped off for the time being. Apparently, they would not be seating for the show until closer to time. For now, guests were being shown to their tables and offered some liquid refreshment. Serving girls practiced their art while wearing a strangely alluring smile. From their plush lips rolled the greeting:
Welcome to the Asylum Club. We hope you enjoy the show.
All week long it had rained to the point that the river line was up and the cobblestone was stained with sludge from weary travellers. The night before the show temperatures dropped well below freezing the wind made your skin burn far more than a chill ever should. As the sun rose with the dawn of the weekend, the ice began to melt and water once again stained the hardly paved streets of the booming city center.
The moment the sun had set there was a surge of bright lights all converging on a singular block in the downtown district. Beaming magenta bulbs decorated the outside of a fairly modern looking building and ushers and valets lined either side of the walkway where a lush fuschia carpet was rolled out. The smooth rolling stone around this block was remarkably dry and there was a considerable amount of greenery given the season.
For nearly two miles surrounding denizens could hear the sounds coming from inside. A mixture of excited screams and blaring music met the ears with a rush of vibrating bass. A large banner outside was practically blazing with golden writing, illuminated by spotlights whose counterparts were rotating to light up the sky and advertise the location. The words, in bold Broadway print, read: Spectacular Spectacular. Although everything on the outside was decorated in fiery summer tones, the inside was a completely different story altogether.
While two gentlemen in formal black and white tuxedos opened the door a rush of something wintry and aquatic raced across the senses. Circulating air within carried a heavy scent of freshly snapped fruits and flowers along with a certain amount of cool moisture. The feeling was similar to being licked by a rolling fog, but the air was remarkably clear to the eye.
Strobing lights and uniforms of cerulean and powder blue caught the eye from all angles. The only colors in view were cold tones. The main room was a dance hall with your typical displays of glass boxes, hung cages, and windowed rooms with padded walls. It appeared that the facility had been specially decorated for this occasion. Waitresses, likely some of Lord Pol's private stock, carried around clear glass trays with flutes of rather rare silver champagne.
The theatre lay beyond the main room. The entrace was roped off for the time being. Apparently, they would not be seating for the show until closer to time. For now, guests were being shown to their tables and offered some liquid refreshment. Serving girls practiced their art while wearing a strangely alluring smile. From their plush lips rolled the greeting:
Welcome to the Asylum Club. We hope you enjoy the show.