|
Post by MILES VELLA on Aug 29, 2013 2:45:34 GMT
It wasn't in Miles' nature to go to night clubs on the regular. Yet, it wasn't strange for him to go to one in general. He liked the music, the dancers, the alcohol... It was exciting and he loved exciting things. Not only that, but he wasn't a bad dancer, himself. After dressing up appropriately for a night club, Miles traveled down to the entertainment district. He'd heard bad things about South Nova, but it didn't scare him. Miles knew it was a shady part of town, but what was shady? The fear of being shanked? Ha...Hahaha... Hahahahahah!!! As if anyone would get away with something like that if they pulled it on him. He'd love to see them try. When he stepped into the night club, the room was dim, the music boomed through his chest the closer he got to the dance floor, and he smiled. Before he would even begin to dance, however, he made his way to the bar for a sweet, fruity drink. Those were his favorite, of course.
|
|
|
Post by PRIMO COHN on Sept 7, 2013 17:42:33 GMT
Bodies crowded the dance floor, illuminated in a multitude of colored lights. Shafts of red, green, blue and yellow lights shifted and whirled, changing shape and size to the beat of the music pulsing through the club. It was a little loud for Primo’s liking; however, the money was good. He was the owner of the hottest club and lounge in Nova Athenis. He had inadvertently wondered into the dance area at the front of the club, hanging on the edge of the chaos by the bar.
The younger of the Martinelli brothers of the previous generation ordered a martini. He sat on the cushioned barstool as he waited for his drink with eyes wondering over his club. A boring crowd had gathered tonight. Primo watched the mundane people move on the shiny square designated for dancing. There he spotted a particular blunette approaching the bar from the masses. He wasn’t particularly interesting so the club owner turn in the to accept his martini. CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GANGNAM STYLE
|
|
|
Post by MILES VELLA on Sept 7, 2013 21:41:00 GMT
One sip of the cocktail and he was in heaven. His expression changed that to one almost orgasmic when the sugary liquid slithered down his throat and he let out a soft hum of enjoyment. To anyone else, the drink would've been sickeningly sweet, but to him it was absolute perfection. The way the spirits mixed with the syrups, the slight tangy zing of the fruit ticking his taste buds in aftertaste, it all worked wonderfully to form a complete drink of satisfaction. After a few sips of that, Miles turned on his stool and browsed the crowd, completely ignoring the bartender who was looking at him as if he was mental (in defense of the bartender, Miles probably was). Everyone looked like they were having a great time and it was a shame he didn't have anyone in particular to dance with. A few more sips and he suddenly didn't care anymore. It must have been the alcohol making Miles feel looser than he normally did, but he sat the glass down and made his way to the dance floor. Once he found the beat, he melded into the swing of it, along with everyone else, and danced. His dancing wasn't sloppy, but it was clear he wasn't a professional, though he was sure he'd impress anyone who was watching. Partner after partner, he danced with anyone who was willing, the heat of bodies next to him warming up his clothes, heating up his skin, sending sparks of energy through his body from the core of his chest to the tips of his fingers.
|
|
|
Post by PRIMO COHN on Sept 18, 2013 23:29:28 GMT
Watching the sloppy movements of the drunken club goers, Primo sipped at his martini. No one caught his eye. One particular man briefly caught his attention. It was the blunette who moments ago was sitting next to him, and that fact alone being the only reason for catching his attention. His eyes drifted to the drink he left behind. A sugary oder wafted up, battering his senses. The man signaled the bartender to ask about the drink.
The answer made him wrinkle his nose. People actually drank things like that? Shaking his head, he turned to sip his martini. To each their own, he supposed. But that managed to pique his curiosity. His red-and-gold eyes searched out the boy in the crowd. Dancing wasn't his thing so he had no desires to get up and join the group. If he caught his eyes, he'd call him over. Otherwise, Primo would simply go to the next person.
CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GANGNAM STYLE
|
|
|
Post by MILES VELLA on Sept 19, 2013 15:07:45 GMT
Even if the club owner wanted to motion Miles over, he didn't have to. Miles could have danced all night long, but a man got thirsty when he exuded so much energy. Eventually he got tired and his throat felt dry, so he allowed himself to slip out of the crowd to find the bar again. Glancing around the room, he ran his slender fingers through his hair, making his way over to his previous seat. Along the way, his eyes met with the blonde's and his eyebrow quirked as he finished off his drink, only to order another. Bright, blue eyes looked the lanky blonde over. His straw hung in his mouth as he sipped on the alcoholic, sugary delight, his leg crossed over the other as he slowly turned on his stool to face the odd-eyed man. "How very curious," Miles spoke.
|
|
|
Post by PRIMO COHN on Nov 22, 2013 14:55:31 GMT
Primo's gaze met those of the blunette, who conveniently came to join him at the bar. So that was the man who'd drink such a sugary beverage. He quirked an eyebrow when the stranger spoke. Primo decided then that he didn't much care for the look he gained. He seemed far too interested for his liking. And he had quite enough of the pounding music permeating this side of his club.
He stood, lifting the martini glass delicately by its stem. "If you'll excuse me." Primo mumbled, setting off to the lounge side. The burlesque dancers were probably on stage now. He didn't want to miss the show. And he had what he wanted in the first place. What reason did he have to stick around in there? The door swung shut behind him as he stepped into the red lit room. CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GANGNAM STYLE
|
|
|
Post by MILES VELLA on Nov 22, 2013 15:37:26 GMT
Well that was rude. He'd just spoken to the man and he just walks off like that? Don't think he didn't notice his stares, either. With a huff, he grabbed his drink and followed the man to the room he just went in, wondering what was so bad that he had to run away (or good, depending on what was in that room). He wasn't sure he could even get into the room or not. For all he knew, it could've been a reserved room for certain people only, but what harm would it do just to try? He attempted to open the door, grasping his drink tightly in his other hand, not wanting it to spill. Miles really wanted to know what was up with that guy and he was curious about what was in the Special Red Room.
|
|
|
Post by PRIMO COHN on Dec 23, 2013 19:21:16 GMT
Manners had never been something that the blonde man was all too concerned with. His mother was never too focused on pleases and thank yous. Whoever that blunette was should have been thankful Primo had even said anything at all. He very well could have just got up and left without saying a thing. But that wasn’t enough for the man who trailed behind Primo. The doors swung close behind them, silencing the boom of the stereo on the other side.
“Why are you following me?” He looked over his shoulder at the sound of the extra set of footsteps behind him. “You don’t have permission to be here.” He might have been let into the side with the dance floor, but that didn’t mean he had permission to enter the lounge. How irritating. The red room wasn’t for a bunch of drunken partiers. It was something of a VIP room, where only those who had the special pass had permission to enter. ”What do you want?” CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GANGNAM STYLE
|
|
|
Post by MILES VELLA on Dec 27, 2013 10:36:12 GMT
His eyebrow perked and he looked the blonde up and down. His demeanor seemed dangerous and proper, the way he stood there with a voice sturdy and a bit monotone in its speech. Miles kept to where he stood and smiled softly at the blonde, slipping his hands into his pockets as he kept eye-contact. "And why don't I belong here? Is there a particular reason? Does it cost money?" He asked the man and took a few steps closer, very curious about the whole thing and the man himself. "You were staring at me the whole time I was out there and then you walk off when I walk over? Of course I'm going to follow you. That was rude."Miles wanted to poke the man's chest as-a-matter-of-factly, but he kept his hands to himself and didn't touch him. "If it costs money to get official permission, then I'll pay your price." Money was nothing to Miles.
|
|
|
Post by PRIMO COHN on Dec 31, 2013 7:48:07 GMT
This blue haired man was trying Primo’s patience. His audacious behavior was, however, rather interesting. It was enough to pique his interest again, if only just a bit. “No amount of money will buy you access to this place.” He replied with the same smoothness as before. His VIP lounge was a place where he spontaneously invited people to on a whim, whether they were dangerous criminals or ordinary citizens. It didn’t really matter. It was also a particularly dangerous place.
“I don’t believe I was staring. I glanced your way.” This guy was so persistent. “I don’t care whether it was rude or not.” Manners had no place in Primo’s life. If he cared at all for them, he would ask people if he could cause them harm before he did on a whim. It would hardly be as fun. “I told you, money won’t get you in.” Was he even listening? “I only let in whoever I feel like letting in.” This was his club, he made the rules. No one could tell him what to do here. CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GANGNAM STYLE
|
|
|
Post by MILES VELLA on Jan 1, 2014 22:00:35 GMT
The man looked fierce and Miles crossed his arms and grinned, incredibly amused by the blonde's defense over the mere fact of Miles standing in that special, little hallway. He meant no harm and was only standing there, yet the man was so, very, upset over that fact. He had other things to worry about though, Miles did. Like the fact the guy was looking at him in the first place earlier. "Oh, I assure you, Sir. You were staring. Don't think that I wasn't watching you, too," Miles replied, narrowing his eyes just a bit at the blonde. He cleared his throat after a few moments, giving the man some time to reply, and spoke once more. He reached up with a hand and brushed a few strands of his own hair behind his ear and tilted his head to the side, smiling innocently again. "Now then... What in the world could be back there that you're so scared of sharing with someone like me? I can't help it that I'm curious. A man stares at me, gets up and walks off into a red room? Of course I'm going to follow him... I want to know what's back there, what he's running away from."Miles swayed his drink gently in a small circle, the one he carried along with him, then took a slight sip from it, almost too small to even taste. "You really should't be so rude. It's unbecoming."
|
|
|
Post by PRIMO COHN on Apr 28, 2014 17:21:17 GMT
His mismatched eyes were hard and cold as ice despite their warm coloring, glinting dangerously in the vibrant red lighting. Primo’s lips curled into a smile that conflicting with the look in his gaze. The blunette was face to face with a very dangerous man. He didn’t take well to being annoyed, especially in his own club. “How presumptuous of you. You are hardly interesting enough for me to stare.”
If Miles knew a thing about Primo, he would know that the man rarely ever felt fear. He was raised around so much bloodshed and violence that there was very little he feared. The Italian man had no reservations about harming other either. “I didn’t ‘run away’. You were boring so I came back here to watch something entertaining. But, since you insist on being a nuisance, I have no choice but to waste my time with you.”
He sunk his hands into his pocket, where a knife rested snuggly within. He took it out, flicking it open. The light flickered over it, staining it red. “And you shouldn’t be annoying.” In a fluid motion, he had the knife held a hair’s width from Miles’ throat. The smile never left his lips. “It might just shorten your life.” CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GANGNAM STYLE
|
|
|
Post by MILES VELLA on Apr 28, 2014 21:51:11 GMT
The smile on Miles' face disappeared almost instantly when he saw the blade being pulled out, though he didn't quite have time to move before that blade was held up against his neck. He glanced down to attempt a look at the silver, but the motion was in vain. He couldn't see past his jaw, only the arm of the man who's hand connected to the grip.
Disgusting. This human was vile.
Miles kept his composure, unmoving as he glanced up to look into those warm, odd-colored eyes, completely contrasting his cold, blue ones. Yet their gazes both pierced into each other, challenging each other.
The bluelette didn't falter.
"What do you expect me to say now? 'Please don't kill me?' Because I don't really think that's very necessary," Miles replied and turned his head just a bit to take a drink from his glass, casual and steady as ever. Gently he reached for the blonde's hand and pushed it away with a finger, the smile returning to his face. "Now I know you're hiding something magnificent back here."
|
|