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 Posted: Wed Jul 15, 2009 2:47 pm
((For Mathieu, Lyov, Citrus, and their respective owners. Ask for permission if you are planning on joining))
Mathieu was quite excited for the night, something he had generally considered as a time during which all fun would come to an end. While it wasn't his first time going to a nightclub, he wasn't usually the type to go by himself. Sometimes when you have to dance, you have to go dance. There was sometimes room enough to do so within his home, where he could be just as embarrassing as he wanted to, and sometimes when you couldn't. He always felt it was better to follow along with a bunch of friends and make a real memory of it.
He had called Zeke first, someone he considered the first and foremost authority on the clubs nearby. He had gotten a declination for this night of partying, but a few suggestions about where he could go. Next there was Citrus, who had agreed to come along, much to Cherry's delight. And finally, Lyov, whom he'd only met recently but seemed like a fair guy, if not interesting. There was a place and a time, then Mathieu put down the phone to go get ready.
Now he was currently saving a spot for the other guys in line outside of the club, casually checking his watch about every five minutes. Okay, so, maybe he was a little eager, but this should be fun! Light blue eyes trailed through the dusk for any sign of his friends while he shifted idly in his skinny jeans. He had ALMOST worn the bell-bottoms, but maybe that was a little much too soon.
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Posted: Wed Jul 15, 2009 8:46 pm
Skin tight was the way to go with Citrus. He was a bit disappointed the Zeke backed out, but Mathieu was going. Blushing slightly, Citrus marched down the street, his black showy theigh-high boots clacking on the cement. His bright orange leather pants were custom made for events suck as this. He wore his trademark black shirt with the neon pink heart. It stopped at his navel, which the italian still wanted to stud. He was messing with his orange and white hair again, nervous about seeing Mathieu. Orange had been crushing on cherry for some time.
But the downer of the night was the fact the stupid russian was tagging along. Just thinking of the white haired a** made Citrus' skin crawl. He turned his iPod shuffle, also orange, up full blast. The techno pounded in his ears as he looked for his friend. Seeing the red-head in the skinny jeans, Citrus rushed to his side.
"Cha! How are you? Been waiting?" he asked tugging the earphones from his ears.
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Posted: Wed Jul 15, 2009 9:09 pm
Bang! Bang!
The last cascading echoes of a distant shot rippled through the air, ricocheting off the corners of buildings yanking it through the city until it died off somewhere in the distance. The clink of metal and the ruffle of clothing followed only to be silenced as hard footsteps replaced them. The white man tucked his hands in his pockets, pulling his right hand away from his eyes, having rubbed the bridge of his nose thoroughly, the body language enough to convey a bit of tired annoyance. Despite this display, his expression left much to be desired. His only concern now seemed to be moving from the area with a relaxed gate while his mind clouded over with thought.
Perhaps what crossed the man's mind now was the events of the previous night -or perhaps what had occurred just moments before- and the prospect of a potentially intriguing night out with a new acquaintance and, if accepted, another older associate. The red head the robust man had met the night before had been an interesting subject, a young man with a bright future. His behavior was fascinating. Though he hadn’t a job or had yet decided on a school or field of study he wanted to pursue, the Russian knew he was capable of achieving his goal once decided upon, even if it took some time. In a busy world, Lyov marveled anyone who could take things slowly. Didn’t the saying go, ‘Slow and steady wins the race’? He was certain a similar scenario would play out for the young man. Hopefully his meeting with him in a more adventurous setting would incur further curiosity.
As for the other man they were meeting...well, he was also curious to see what would occur with him. Their singular encounter had ended...well, on a bit of a sour note. Perhaps they could correct these poor first impressions and replace them with something more befitting a friendship. Lyov didn't expect anything, however.
Moving along the street, dressed in his usual jacket, tight white jeans, but instead of his white v-neck and black button up (plus tie) he wore a plan black tank, tight around his firm body without blemish of a secondary color save for a single bleeding heart dead center. He blinked a few times, his cloudy eyes ever focusing on the street and the misty forms he pulled around, moving aside occasionally for various couples. When the club came into view -the colors distorted and best seen in his periphery- he immediately started to search through the line, expecting to catch a glimpse of the maroon hair or perhaps the creamy orange stripped with a deep vanilla.
As it were, he found them both together already, having apparently just greeted each other if they had even gotten that far. The Russian smirked slightly, his expression otherwise unchanging, as he came upon them, extending his eyes to Citrus and then to Mathieu.
"Evening," he spoke, "Thanks for saving the spot." At this Lyov extended his hand, reaching to shake Citrus's if he would accept, and if that weren't the case, he'd then move on to take Mathieu's. He wasn't quite sure if a handshake was appropriate for their presumed age group, but he figured a hug or even a European kiss was far to familiar. Maybe he didn't need anything but a simple hello. Regardless, he looked at the orange and cherry, his white chocolate eyes dark and eager.
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Posted: Wed Jul 15, 2009 9:47 pm
Cherry would perk in his spot as he saw the familiar white and orange hair bobbing out in the darkness. As Citrus approached, he could hear the music pumping through the headphones, only a pale version of the pulsing music that rushed into the night air every time the club door swung open. He put on his friendliest smile, quite pleased to see his friend. Compared to Citrus, Mathieu was silently feeling quite tame. The wildest thing he happened to be wearing was his shirt, a black form-fitting thing that had had the sleeves cut off and tattered, spattered with neon paint, some that formed smiley faces and peace signs. It would light up brightly beneath the club light. He'd made it himself, of course. Otherwise there was his characteristic bottle-cap belt and his jeans, along with vast quanties of those cheap jelly bracelets up his arms. He'd left the jacket back home, figuring it'd only be a hassle in a place that could get very hot even if you were wearing next to nothing. Like some of the women a few beats up from them. He had tried not to cringe in disapproval of their open promiscuity.
"Hey there, glad you could make it! Yeah, just saving us a place. Early bird and all that." He stepped forward to offer the man a quick, one-armed hug before stepping back. "I haven't seen you in a while! Man, are you going to be able to dance in those things?" His eyes were on the boots before what sounded like the echoes of gunshots tailed the next open-shut interval of the door. "Did you hear something?"
Not too long after, Mathieu spotted Liev, another pleased smile brightening his features. "Lyov!" He greeted, though he rolled his shoulders at the thanks. "Hey, I want to actually get in tonight, you know?" The only sign of awkwardness that would come at the offered hand was a blink, before the redhead reached out his hand to give the other a firm handshake. He gave the man a light, boisterous tap on the shoulder with his free hand, signaling at least some familiarity before he slid back again. The line was beginning to shuffle a little, and so he was planning to follow it for a moment before he went back to talking.
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Posted: Thu Jul 16, 2009 1:03 pm
Citrus laughed at the comment about his leather pants. He looked them over quickly. Yep, still clean. He gave his hips a twist to the overflow of sound that had dripped out as the door opened to let a harem of young women into the bright, beating lights of the otherwise dim club.
"I can dance in these," he chuckled, "There is only one thing I cannot do. Ja?" He laughed again, the mood bright and cheery until the gunshot tore through the city. Gasps and small cries were uttered by some of the people in the line and Citrus' feature grew stony. A shot in the middle of a city? That was the stuff his uncle did in the italian mafia. He knew what would come next, and sure enough, the white russian boy came sliding up to them. Lyov thrust out his hand for it to be taken by Cherry only. Citrus would not touch this blood-stained angelic monster.
"Ciao Lyov," the italian sneered, his happy disposition wiped from his features. He had the urge to kick the other in the shins with his boots, but did not want to upset Matheiu in any way. With a sharp nod, Citrus acknowladged the other, but nothing more. The free italian wanted nothing to do with the stuck up russian.
"Balliamo?" he sighed turning his back on Lyov, "Matheiu, will you dance with me when we get inside?"
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Posted: Thu Jul 16, 2009 3:01 pm
"Has both of your day gone vell?"
Lyov ignored the fact that the Italian skipped his hand, not expecting any less of the outspoken youth, and inwardly replied with his own little smile while his outer expression didn't shift even in the slightest. The firm handshake that Mathieu offered was far more satisfying anyway. He didn't know his dub from the young man, but being called a blood-stained angelic monster didn't sound so bad, or at least he wouldn't have thought it so had he heard it. He shifted lightly, grinning back to the red head, eagerly awaiting entering the building.
He had noticed the bit of discomfort between the club visitors who had heard the shot. This didn’t faze him however, instead he stayed perfectly placid, his usual reaction regardless of the situation. The man seemed more concerned with his companion’s reactions. Mathieu seemed eager to see him (which no doubt created some sense of relief in the tall man) while Citrus displayed a not-so-concealed abhorrence. The "ciao" could have been taken however Lyov wanted to interpret it, either as a goodbye or a hello. He choose the later. And the nod was enough regardless of who had offered it to him.
He took this moment to notice their attire. Both were wearing a bit more appropriate clothing for the occasion in comparison to the Russian. While the removal of his jacket would prove a relief, his pants wouldn't assist in cooling the man down; despite this, Lyov would figured he'd be comfortable, appreciative toward heat unlike most more southern residents.
As Citrus asked Mathieu for a dance, Lyov openly smirked. It wasn't meant as a jive toward the cherry, but couldn't be suppressed nonetheless as he watched the two interact. What sort of relationship did they have? Having just met the red male he wasn't entirely sure the levels of friendliness he might have had with the other mansicles, especially the flirtatious orange prodding him for a bit of attention. Lyov had no intention of interrupting the two if this was something they both were intent on, but if he sensed even the slightest right between them he might not be able to stop himself from messing with the orange.
Looking up, he noticed the lines shifting further into the club and moved along with it, keeping up with the two other males. They'd be inside shortly.
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Posted: Thu Jul 16, 2009 7:27 pm
One thing? Mathieu didn't get it, and decided not to ask after a second's consideration. His focus flitted to the people that had previously cried out. So he wasn't the only one? Well, hopefully it was just some stupid kids setting something off. He watched as Citrus greeted Lyov, able to see the change in orange's expression and body language. He could not help the small frown that tugged at his features, wondering if something was the matter. But when he looked over at Lyov it did not seem as if the Russian was sharing any bad blood in return. Huh.
"Mine has, yes, thank you." He offered a response to Lyov, unconsciously shifting along with the crowd. When Citrus addressed him, his brows arched a little in surprise. It wasn't as if he hadn't danced with his friends before, though, which he assumed was what the invitation was. If he'd known a bit of Italian, he would have known for sure. "Um. Sure, Citrus. Why not?" A smile. He caught Lyov's smirk, almost feeling as if he'd been accused of something. His lips drew a little tighter and there was an imperceptible shake of his head before he stepped up to the front of the line. The bouncer gave them a once-over before opening the door. Mathieu ducked into the lights, feeling as if warm water had been poured over him as he entered the club. The music was humming against his very bones, but his eyes scouted out the surroundings so he could know where the tables and booths were when he got tired. They were there, a nice ways from the dance floor so that people could hold a conversation without holding their ears.
"Well," He said, turning to the others and trying to talk over the music, "Should we get right into it or do we want drinks?"
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Posted: Thu Jul 16, 2009 8:58 pm
Citrus scanned the floor with hungry eyes as the bouncer patted his pants down a second time. He turned to adress the problem.
"If you found nothing the frist time signore, then you surely will not find anything new the second go-around. So please, Scusa!" The small italian slipped past the large bouncer and into the bright club.
The multi-colored light bounced merrily off his neon leather pants. Running a hand through his hair, the orange-boy tried to keep his heart from bursting out of his chest. He was home. Then he heard cherry ask the question os questions, to drink or dance.
"Club rule uno: Neverdrink before you dance. You will get sick," he shouted above the music, "And rule dos: Keep checking your money." He waitedfor the russian to enter, hoping that he would be caught for something, anything. But of course he wasn't. With a deep sigh, Citrus waved the two to the floor.
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Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2009 2:02 pm
Lyov smiled slightly at the response he got from Mathieu, thankful at least someone answered him. As it were, his response was a little more valuable anyway in comparison to the orange boy who seemed to be giving him the cold shoulder.
“That is good,” he murmured, unsure if he even heard the sentiment as they shuffled forward. The red heads acceptance of the dance was interesting enough. In all honesty he wanted to see just how this would play out -of course in no offense to Mathieu. He was stopped like the others by the bouncer. With an unfazed expression he glided through the door, allowed through (if in fact he was concealing something he had the good sense to hide it well, or tossed it along the way) and upon his entering felt the collision of heat immediately take hold. He'd need to lose the jacket.
The rift of the music was powerful enough to vibrate his chest, giving the illusion his very heart would soon bounce out of it to join the festivities. His white clothing was perfect for this neon environment. Whatever color could be found illuminated on his jeans while his jacket, still about his shoulders, glowed. Even Lyov's snow-white hair gave off a natural glimmer, but against the dark background it was perhaps his pale, cataract clouded, blue-white stare that was most intriguing. He didn't need any paint or neon clothing to stand out here.
As it were, his eyes darted around wildly, taking in all he could see (which wasn't much as most of the darkness all blended together and only the lights seemed to really stand out) but truly felt the atmosphere through the reverberating sound pulsating through the room. Those specks locked in on Mathieu and his companion, and he drew in closer to them. The question was a good one. Getting drinks would give him the opportunity to relieve himself of the jacket, but he also didn't want to spend the cash just yet when he knew they would need the refreshment after the dancing. And Citrus' reasoning was intelligent enough.
"I agree," he answered.
He didn't catch his motions toward the floor, unable to see that far ahead of him. But he could sense the urgent nature of Citrus's will and pressed forward after him regardless of his sight.
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Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2009 7:18 am
Mathieu craned his head slightly to better catch Citrus' rule of thumb, feeling his lips tug a little at the corners. Well, someone as familiar with the club scene as Orange could not be wrong. His hand dipped down to his back pocket, wherein he kept his wallet. It was tied on a small chain to one of his front belt loops, some various trinkets jingling from the leash. He should know if anyone was trying to swipe it, at least, but he'd have to keep it in mind to find pauses to check.
Lyov's affirmative settled it, then. They would dance first. Most admittedly, he was momentarily dazzled by the other males and the effect of their respective appearances. The white in Citrus' hair stuck out like a peel of moonlight through the darkness and Lyov... Lyov was more like a star. He shined all around, and the redhead's eyes lingered on the startling color of the Russian's eyes, so much more obvious beneath the lights, before he turned his gaze back to Citrus. He did not wish to be impolite, even though to look a man in the eye was a good sign from an American.
While he knew that his shirt lit up with neon brilliance in the dim light, he knew he was nowhere as bright as the other two. His hair was vibrant in any other light, but almost black within the club, and his pale blue eyes dimmed a few notches beneath striking. He did not mind. A light touch was tapped against Citrus' elbow to indicate he was interested in the dance, though he peered over the man at Lyov. "If you lose us, just find a table when you're tired."
He actually felt a little bad for saying as much, seeing as they were supposed to be a group. He hoped White Chocolate deemed to dance near them. With that, though, Cherry turned about and began to shoulder his way into the crowd of dancers, a bit taller than the general crowd, and the designs on the back of his shirt were glowing brightly. Hopefully Citrus was staying close, and he would glance back to see if the other man was still following him, waiting to see if the other would pick their spot for them or if they'd end up somewhere at random. Mathieu didn't mind, so long as he had some room. His eyes caught on the skin of some passing women, swallowing quietly, enduring the slight press of the bodies around him.
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Posted: Fri Jul 31, 2009 7:21 pm
Pushing and shoving a clear spot in the center of the floor, Citrus waved Cherry and stupid Chocolate over. He began to sway his hips in an almost seductive fashion. His hands found their way to his silky orange and white hair. He sighed deeply, letting all the stress flow from him. But the the moment he waited for happened.
"Everybody show your stuff! The black light is coming on!" the DJ roared into his mic. Citrus cheered along with the crowd as the lights went off and the dimmer lights went on. The music began to thump in Orange's chest and the paint he had smeared on himself began to glow a vivid pink.
Pink splattered his leather and was laced through his hair. His star and the heart on his shirt blazed in pink. But that was not the eyecatcher. Acoss his bare stomach, in large smeared letters was the words...
He laughed at the attention he was getting and retook his swaying dance. The flamboyant italian would not let anybody ruin his night, not even Chocolate who was staring at him.
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Posted: Sun Aug 02, 2009 12:28 pm
The Russian perked up at the voice, looking straight toward Mathieu as he listened to him, hearing him clearly despite the heart pounding thump of the base. A short nod gave his confirmation he understood. There was no feeling of being left out, no sensation of being brushed off and there needn't be; Lyov thought nothing considering it was a practical request. This was there dance after all, right? Of course, he followed anyway, not as urgent as the other two into getting into a open enough cavern for the pair to move around in, but sauntered leisurely, pushing through the various bouncing youths he had to in order to spot the pair well enough.
The lighting wasn't helping any, that was certain. Though the glow of their clothing was certainly noticeable to the man, the rest of their figures were blurred and near invisible in the darkness. Though the atmosphere was brilliant to the white chocolate man, he wouldn't deny how difficult it was on his sight.
"Sorry," he mumbled to the various people he nearly ran straight into on his way over to the pair, doing more than just brushing shoulders as he pushed between.
However, before he reached either of his companions the voice of the DJ distracted his search, forcing his attention to the darkness that seemed to envelop further and pump the glowing neon lights out. Pressing frew a few more people lead him straight to Mathieu...and Citrus.
What hadn't been revealed before certainly made itself obnoxiously obvious now. Even the dimmed eyed Lyov to see the lettering on the Italian man's smooth stomach, and as he took a few steps closer could even make out the little heart at the end of his exclamation point. He blinked a few times to ensure his poor sight wasn't obscuring what was really being said, but upon confirming it the Russian gave a short snort as a thin smirk spread across his face. He wasn't surprised. Wasn't the Italian stripping on their first meeting anyway? How was this any out of character for the young orange? Now who was the message intended for? Lyov could certainly see the Italian's expression of his dislike for the Russian through this unconventional form of vendetta. But maybe it was a message for the whole world to see. The target being everyone and everything.
Lyov hesitated to start moving, looking toward Mathieu before making any quick body movement. What were his thoughts on the little bit of profanity Citrus shared with the world? More importantly, how would white chocolate respond if it indeed was meant for him?
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