Shine On You Crazy Diamonds

The Warehouse

A dark womb of black, and purple encompass The Warehouse nightclub. The room is a fair sized club area that has been built out of an old warehouse. Most of the club has been well-lit with neon tubing, but the lighting around the booths and back wall are shadowed to provide some modicum of privacy. Other than the dance area, the floor is a deep mauve, with light patterns displayed haphazardly on it. A ring of black light surrounds the ceiling, causing the lighter colors in both the club and on the patrons to fluoresce. A catwalk spreads over the dance floor, the black iron rails holding state-of-the-art varilights and floods which reflect off of the large disco ball that dangles from the ceiling, splashing the LED dance floor with light. The dance floor itself flashes and pulses to the beat of the music, continually changing colors in a neonic frenzy. On tall black step-platforms set out randomly throughout the dance floor are black dance cages, roomy enough for two people to bump and grind to the music in them. The bar matches the rest of the nightclub, tall and black with a strand of purple LED's running along the sides and the outer edges. The stools in front of it are white and chrome, reflecting the purple light that washes over the bar area. Behind the bar is a high-tech, mirrored drink area with glass shelving. Various libations, ranging from alcoholic beverages to fruit juices and sodas line the shelves. The music here is blisteringly loud, but startlingly clear. Heavy bass notes throb, speakers buzzing slightly when the volume reaches its peak.

It's a clear, fair Wednesday night! The moon is hidden by a singular cloud that floats across the sky. Being a Wednesday means that the Warehouse is not jam-packed and full of people. There are people out on the dance floor, and people at the bar. But there aren't a whole lot of people. There's actually room enough to move around.

There is some 80's remix playing, and the central focus of most of the people in the place is the total retro-chick who's in one of the cages. Gone are the punky clothes. Instead, Ronnie is decked out in a neon green and purple spandex bodysuit, with an over-sized off-shoulder white t-shirt over it. White legwarmers are on her legs, and she's just content to be rocking away, causing a scene.

January steps into the club, dressed in the odds and ends that least resembled a crime scene and smelled like one too. She wears a powder blue camisole bearing a pattern of lighter blue stars across it, a black mini-skirt that shows off her legs and a pair of black combat boots finishing off the ensemble. Her hair doesn't look like it's been combed in some days, but otherwise she's managed to spruce herself up. Her lipstick is flawlessly applied although her eyeliner is a little too dark and she smells like a French brothel. The cages catch her eye at once. The tall woman makes her way over towards them and stops in front of Ronnie's cage. January takes particular notice of the purple and green bodysuit, letting out something of a childish giggle. "She looks like a grape," she remarks to a young man standing near her. The blonde tilts her head and regards Ronnie curiously for a long few moments, heaving her shoulders.

Ronnie loves her odds-and-ends 80's clothing she's managed to salvage at thrift stores over the years. Each night she hits up a different one, looking for some new treasure, since it really is 1985, even if no one believes her. The remix ends, and she hops out of the cage. She's thirsty now, and she's forgotten to bring a bunny with her. As soon as she's out of the cage, she spots the other oddly dressed vampire patron. Her eyes light up a bit and she runs forward to just plain out and out tackle the poor woman. "JANNIE! Like, when did you get into town? Does Wil Wheaton know you're here yet?" She's only good in so far as she doesn't mention the word "King" in her greeting.

Surprisingly, Ronnie's show of affection is met with affection in turn. January grips the other woman in a probably too-tight bear hug and squeezes her before petting her hair. "Bunny." She says in her pleasant, phonetic Danish accent before smiling toothily at the other woman. "No one knows I'm here but you and the man in the alley. But he doesn't know a lot anymore…" After this the tall blonde can't help but let out a disconcerting giggle. "It was beautiful, there were lights and the angels sang to me. His soul was yellow." She lets out a long sigh of reminescence from latest kill before wrapping an arm around Ronnie and cradling her protectively. "The lights in here are almost the same… only less holy."

"Where!?" Ronnie peers past the woman's shoulder, trying to see if there's an evil little critter running around trying to gnaw at ankles. When she doesn't spot one, she pouts. "Oh! I'm totally like, gonna have to take you to Wil Wheaton. He's like, a pretty cool dude. Only don't call him dude, he doesn't like that." The bunnies disappear from her basket when she calls him dude. "Yellow? Does yellow taste as good as evil bunnies?" They're making quite a show, thankfully it's loud enough in the Warehouse that their conversation will go unheard by the human populace. "The roller rink is like, way better. The lighting there is the bomb. You should come skate with me sometime, Jannie."

The world is a perplexing and troubling thing for January ninety eight percent of the time. "Yellow tastes like something…" January says, trying dearly to remember. "Sour." The blonde can't remember the name of what she wants to say, and thus grips at her temples for a moment while letting out a feral growl. She recovers when Ronnie mentions the roller rink. "Oh, the little skates! The noises that they make…" The woman gives a shudder of delight before nodding towards Ronnie. "The bomb? Mmm. Who is Wil Wheatman? Does he know about the angels?" For the most part, January is content to let Ronnie lead the way to wherever she might go. She's still listening to the conversation, although the pretty lights tend to make her eyes dart back and forth quickly.

"Bananas? No, bananas aren't sour. I'd remember if they were sour, wouldn't I?" Ronnie twitches her nose like a bunny's and then shakes her head. "I need a drink. Want a TruBlood? It's like, totally on me. They serve'em here, but the bartender doesn't like me. I scare him." She grabs January by the hand and drags her toward the bar. "Yeah, the four wheeled kind, not the fake ones like they gave me here." Rollerblades are totally sucktastic. As they move through the crowd, she whispers, "King Wil Wheaton. He's pretty cool. He got me a pad with MTV. I don't know if he like, knows about the angels though. C'mon, this stuff is way not as rad as bunnies, but it'll make the thirsties go away!"

January is drug towards the bar without much protest, though she wrinkles her nose in disgust when TruBlood is brought up. "Sugar water." She mouths the word 'banana' a few times, furrowing her brow when she instinctively knows that's NOT the word she was looking for. "Fake wheels? …The King? Elvis." This causes January to laugh a bit before she tilts her head curiously at Ronnie. "I'm not ready to be a royal subject. I'll need a new dress. Does he have servants? Will there be cheese?"

Ronnie knows that the TruBlood isn't as good as the bunnies, but she's trying her best not to get thrown out of another kingdom! Ordering two at the bar, she pulls out a couple of rolls of quarters from somewhere that it's better not to ask about, and then drops them on the counter. The second bottle is handed to January. Both are cold, rather than being heated up but that's how the crazy girl ordered them. "The ones like this," she says putting her pointer finger out in a straight line. "Not like this," with the motion of two-by-two. "Hail to the King, baby!" The Elvis-pelvis-thrust is done, and she takes a great big gulp of the synthetic blood. A drop of it slips out the side of her mouth and down her chin, but she doesn't seem to care. "Yes, yes, probably, yes!"

Despite her initial disgust at having been asked to drink TruBlood in the first place, when she finds that it's cold, January starts to drink it with aplomb. "Oh, it's not sugar water at all." She can't help but laugh at Ronnie's display of 'hail to the king, baby!' before sucking down the better half of her bottle of TruBlood. After which she lets out something of a reflexive, mostly play-acted belch. She reaches out and swipes some of the TruBlood off of Ronnie's lips and puts it to her own tongue, humming quietly. "It never has a color really. No soul. It's nothingness." The blonde closes her eyes and spins around in a circle before she turns to face Ronnie dizzily. "I met a King once. He was very Rude. Not kingly at all. Maybe like George the Mad."

"Bet he was better than Rob Lowe." Ronnie has no love for the King that sent her here. None at all. Never mind that he's a King. He was a jackass. Sticking her finger into the bottle of TruBlood, she wipes the sticky synthetic over her lips as though it were gloss, and smiles prettily. Even when some of it drips. "It's beige then. Totally beige. I can see it, can you see it?" Reaching upward, she tries to pluck something out of the air, but it's nothing and she lets the nothingness slip through her fingers. "Wil Wheaton isn't rude! He's… totally curmudgeonly… but he's buying me a dress!"

"Yes, beige!" January seems completely ecstastic at having been able to remember this color. Tan, ecru, beige. It feels good to remember. "Did you just get that lipstick?" January asks, despite having just seen Ronnie 'apply' it. She watches as though mesmerized when Ronnie lets the beigeness slip through her fingers. /SHE/ can see it, by gum. "Why is he buying you a dress? Is there a royal wedding? Are they going to let you be a handmaiden?" January's eyes light up at the very prospect of a royal wedding. All of the kingdom coming together, lots of people to release from their torment, music, flowers…

Ronnie purses her lips out and makes lip-smacking noises. "I totally like the way it feels. It's smacktastic!" There is a big show of licking her lips, and trying to recover the lost droplets, much to the disgust of other patrons near the bar. "To make me a lady, I think. I told the dude that I totally wasn't a lady, but he like so didn't get it. You get it though, right?" A wedding would be fun though. She should suggest it! "There needs to be roller skating, and bunnies for dinner. Hopping along on those evil little legs, and twitching their vile little noses. Then we can release their souls instead of like, throwing rice!"

With any luck, the patrons of the bar who haven't noticed the labels of their drink will just think they're on their drug of choice. "A lady? You look like a girl to me…" January's mind goes to some very scary place as usual, although now she's considering Ronnie's bustline and spandex bodysuit carefully for a moment or two. "Being a lady would be boring unless you had lots of servants anyway." Her nose twitches a few times as she considers the various things she could make her servants do, her mind going Elizabeth Bathory-esque places very briefly before she considers. "Bunnies. Maybe a few young men. They are so eager these days to… acquiesce. I like how excited they get, and then POP! Do rabbits have souls?"

"I am a girl, see?" Up comes the white t-shirt, but thankfully she's covered with the spandex bodysuit. "I like, totally don't want servants. They wouldn't let me have bunnies." No one lets her have bunnies except Coco. She should call Coco Chanel again. She'd do it now if she could remember the number. "They like get way too messy when they pop. All gooey." Ronnie nurses the bottle again for a moment, then paints her lips. "They do. Saw one. In the park with Miss Coco. She helped me drown the evil sin, and off down the river it floated. Bye-Bye-Baby Bunny!"

"Easter treats!" January exclaims quite merrily as she imagines a bounty of wee rabbits exploding. "Coco?" Very suddenly January lets out a laugh, smacking at the air next to her face. "Stop it, Reginald. I will not say that." She finishes off her bottle and sets it down on the bar, bouncing back and forth unevenly from heels to her toes. "You made the little rabbit all wet… I wonder if rabbits like water or if they're like cats. What do rabbits taste like? Cats are too smart to eat. Their ears are so soft though…" And if anyone should find a few earless cats around the city, you need look no further for the culprit.

Easter! Now that's a great idea. The evil bunnies can be painted all sorts of colors! Ronnie seems absolutely lost in that thought, picturing her multitude of technicolor bunnies, each one with a different flavor. "Totally. Coco Chanel. She gave me skates. See?" Her foot kicks up into the air, and of course it's skateless, but she definitely believes she's wearing roller skates. "It was empty so I like, totally don't know if it liked the water or not. Running on fumes. No more hoppity hop to the barber shop! They taste evil-to-the-max. Their ears are good for jangling them along before you purge the sin though."

January eyes Ronnie's foot and nods in acknowledgment, as if she sees the skates. "But don't you just want something to snuggle sometimes?" January asks, before she reaches up to start caressing her own cheekbones. "I'm not as fuzzy as I'd like… once I found a kitten. I fed it some bread crumbs and kept it with me…" The blonde trails off there and lolls her head back, eyes rolling to the back of her head. "But it was so soft and fuzzy… I started…" She doesn't remember, and so she trails off there with an anguished groan. After that little trip down memory lane, she looks back towards Ronnie. "Heheh. Barber shop. Getting your ears lowered."

"Do your ears hang low?" Ronnie reaches forward to play with January's ears. Then she smells the woman. "Pretty. What're you wearing? It's rad." Without backing away she says, "Want to go find something to snuggle? I totally know the place. There's a forest like, super close to hear. Bunnies, and kitties, and squirrels, oh my!" There is a glance around the noisy bar and she makes sure to lower her voice. "You can like, totally bunk with me in my room in the morning. Wil Wheaton won't mind I don't think. And we can watch MTV!"

In response to Ronnie's question, January wiggles her ears. "I found the perfume in someone's purse… a nice lady. Her soul was blue, blue, blue. She doesn't cry anymore." January sways to and fro for a moment. She smells like one of the cheap knock off brands of CK or Tommy Hilfiger that appears in the less fancy department stores but are popular amongst the less well-to-do masses and teenagers. "The music television actually plays music at night!" January calls out triumphantly before she nods. "Let's go find something to cuddle… and then maybe MTV and sleep…" The blonde yawns a little bit for show before putting an arm around Ronnie.

"MTV always plays videos! It's MTV!" In Ronnie's brain, all it shows is videos. It's like constantly stuck on 80's videos too. There are nights when she just sees what she wants to see. "Blue… I don't remember what blue tastes like." Smacking her lips together, she licks off the remainder of the blood. "Beige is good cold though." Still not as wonderful as evil-bunny blood, but she'll make due. "Totally time to hit the forest! Totally time to go on a huuuunt. Let's go!" She'd drag Jannie with her to the forest, but it seems that her total BFF is going to go a bit slower. It's okay, they've got the time.

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