- Invitation Status
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- Afternoons and evenings, some weekends.
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Douche
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Primarily Prefer Female
- Genres
- Fantasy, Science Fiction, Post Apocalypse, Horror, Romance, Survival...
((Read the OOC for info on the NPCs.))
"Why don't you dance to the music inside my head?"
Outside the nightclub, it was an overcast night, with a light drizzle of rain encouraging people to take shelter before it started to get worse. The sight of a partial moon was obscured by clouds, making the streets and alleys even darker than they usually were in the bloody city. Inside the The Crown Nightclub, it was packed with people this night: Aleksander always drew a crowd wherever he went, which often served to protect him as much as it did give him a large platter to pick potential victims from. The bouncer at the main entrance, which faced south at the end of a three-way intersection, had been bribed by The Rebellion, letting anyone in so long as they had an appropriate disguise for their role. Past the doors, people would be greeted to the sounds of bass-heavy electronic music, a bar, and a large dance floor packed with bodies. Slender bodies, a few of which were underaged from the looks of it, implying disturbing things about Aleksander's tastes. A few feet away to the left of the main entrance was the staircase to the second floor, and at the center of the open first floor was the DJ's booth, where a dark skinned man plied his trade.
Only, something was missing.
Aleksander was nowhere to be found where he should have been: His seat was present a few feet from the DJ booth, and four out of six of his vampire enforcers remained near the expensive chair decked out in heavy riot armour and light machine guns, implying he was somewhere in the club, but his position was for the moment, unknown.
At the back of the nightclub in an area cleared with hanging ropes connected to stanchions, leading to the staff hallway, the door was open revealing a several foot long stretch of private rooms to the left and right. One of the rooms was the main security room, where security cameras (most hidden from view) were being operated. At the end of the hall was the door to the storage room, which had access to the basement. Getting past the bouncer in plain sight of a crowd might be tricky though...
On the second floor, there was a thin layer of drywall blocking the view of the dance floor which serviced little to muffle the music coming from the DJ's speakers. There were several miscellaneous rooms, though on the north side of the club's second floor was the main office, where the manager likely spent most of his time. The door was locked, likely to prevent him from being harassed by dissatisfied customers. Only two bodyguards kept the area safe, and the area was not frequented often by civilians. There appeared to be hints of a small armoury on this floor as well, likely for the bodyguards throughout the club in case of emergency robbery or holdup, or maybe it was placed there by Aleksander to ensure his men would always have the weapons needed for the job. Either way, the lock on it looked well used, and ready to go with just a little bit of applied force, though a security camera was watching the door.
Entering the club with other agents of the Rebellion was Staznov and Maurice. Both of them came as guests, rather than bodyguards. Staznov could be found on the second floor, eyeing the armoury from time to time. Maurice on the other hand remained on the first floor, appearing to fit in with the crowds of upper class partiers perfectly, though the way he eyed the guard by the staff hall door implied he had ideas on how to get inside.
About twenty minute's drive away from the Nightclub on the fairly empty streets, the Bank Truck was hidden inside a garage of a well-to-do fenced off mansion. It was owned by Maurice, who was already at the nightclub. The interior of the Bank Truck had a pair of small barred windows to let light in, though it was still kept largely dark inside for the purposes of keeping them hidden from outside view. It wouldn't take long once everyone was finished readying themselves for combat, then boarded the truck. Decorated in heavy armour and leaning against the truck, Samuel tapped his fingers over his light machine gun impatiently, tapping his foot on the concrete floor of the garage. It was a large garage, and the walls were lined with weapons and other equipment that would be hidden from view by the mansion's servants once they were done loading up. "Most of you are new kids eh'?" Samuel says with a cheeky grin. "Name's Samuel, though all of you probably know that. Nice to meet all of you."
Erica was also joining the Bank Truck squad, in light combat gear with a rifle slung over her shoulder and a machine pistol on her waist. She was giving final instructions to the truck driver, leaning in the driver side window directing him with a map on where to go in case the main routes were blocked. "You know you could introduce yourself Erica." The woman shoots him a cold, disapproving look before returning to her task. Rolling his eyes, Samuel looks at everyone in the garage. "Don't let her get you down, she's good in a fight, just not at anything else. Now lets get a move on kids, hop in the back of the truck."
"Why don't you dance to the music inside my head?"
Nightclub
Outside the nightclub, it was an overcast night, with a light drizzle of rain encouraging people to take shelter before it started to get worse. The sight of a partial moon was obscured by clouds, making the streets and alleys even darker than they usually were in the bloody city. Inside the The Crown Nightclub, it was packed with people this night: Aleksander always drew a crowd wherever he went, which often served to protect him as much as it did give him a large platter to pick potential victims from. The bouncer at the main entrance, which faced south at the end of a three-way intersection, had been bribed by The Rebellion, letting anyone in so long as they had an appropriate disguise for their role. Past the doors, people would be greeted to the sounds of bass-heavy electronic music, a bar, and a large dance floor packed with bodies. Slender bodies, a few of which were underaged from the looks of it, implying disturbing things about Aleksander's tastes. A few feet away to the left of the main entrance was the staircase to the second floor, and at the center of the open first floor was the DJ's booth, where a dark skinned man plied his trade.
Only, something was missing.
Aleksander was nowhere to be found where he should have been: His seat was present a few feet from the DJ booth, and four out of six of his vampire enforcers remained near the expensive chair decked out in heavy riot armour and light machine guns, implying he was somewhere in the club, but his position was for the moment, unknown.
At the back of the nightclub in an area cleared with hanging ropes connected to stanchions, leading to the staff hallway, the door was open revealing a several foot long stretch of private rooms to the left and right. One of the rooms was the main security room, where security cameras (most hidden from view) were being operated. At the end of the hall was the door to the storage room, which had access to the basement. Getting past the bouncer in plain sight of a crowd might be tricky though...
On the second floor, there was a thin layer of drywall blocking the view of the dance floor which serviced little to muffle the music coming from the DJ's speakers. There were several miscellaneous rooms, though on the north side of the club's second floor was the main office, where the manager likely spent most of his time. The door was locked, likely to prevent him from being harassed by dissatisfied customers. Only two bodyguards kept the area safe, and the area was not frequented often by civilians. There appeared to be hints of a small armoury on this floor as well, likely for the bodyguards throughout the club in case of emergency robbery or holdup, or maybe it was placed there by Aleksander to ensure his men would always have the weapons needed for the job. Either way, the lock on it looked well used, and ready to go with just a little bit of applied force, though a security camera was watching the door.
Entering the club with other agents of the Rebellion was Staznov and Maurice. Both of them came as guests, rather than bodyguards. Staznov could be found on the second floor, eyeing the armoury from time to time. Maurice on the other hand remained on the first floor, appearing to fit in with the crowds of upper class partiers perfectly, though the way he eyed the guard by the staff hall door implied he had ideas on how to get inside.
Bank Truck
About twenty minute's drive away from the Nightclub on the fairly empty streets, the Bank Truck was hidden inside a garage of a well-to-do fenced off mansion. It was owned by Maurice, who was already at the nightclub. The interior of the Bank Truck had a pair of small barred windows to let light in, though it was still kept largely dark inside for the purposes of keeping them hidden from outside view. It wouldn't take long once everyone was finished readying themselves for combat, then boarded the truck. Decorated in heavy armour and leaning against the truck, Samuel tapped his fingers over his light machine gun impatiently, tapping his foot on the concrete floor of the garage. It was a large garage, and the walls were lined with weapons and other equipment that would be hidden from view by the mansion's servants once they were done loading up. "Most of you are new kids eh'?" Samuel says with a cheeky grin. "Name's Samuel, though all of you probably know that. Nice to meet all of you."
Erica was also joining the Bank Truck squad, in light combat gear with a rifle slung over her shoulder and a machine pistol on her waist. She was giving final instructions to the truck driver, leaning in the driver side window directing him with a map on where to go in case the main routes were blocked. "You know you could introduce yourself Erica." The woman shoots him a cold, disapproving look before returning to her task. Rolling his eyes, Samuel looks at everyone in the garage. "Don't let her get you down, she's good in a fight, just not at anything else. Now lets get a move on kids, hop in the back of the truck."
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