Post by ABBIGAIL PAISLEY on Feb 20, 2011 22:10:54 GMT 2
Back on the dance floor
Bad enough to take me home
Base kicking so hard
Blazing through my beating heart
French kissing on the floor
Heart is beating hardcore
Despite the rain, the heavy gale force winds and the insanely cold weather that was sweeping across England. One city always remained the height of party central. London city center, known for its busy street, overcrowding and house prices ... also had one hell of a nightlife. the university students of the muggle world would flock from bar and nightclub to bar and nightclub until they shut in the wee hours of the morning. Many of the local girls taking it as a way of finding potential boyfriends, whereas the males found it the best way to have a night of fun with a girl. It was in effect, a bright and boisterous place despite the dreary weather that always stood as a cloud looming over the people. Tonight was no different.
the heavy bass music thumping against the cobblestone ground outside the Factory Parlor ... a rather new and active nightclub was an invite to any passing younger who wanted a good drink and an even better night. The front door held no indication of the lights that danced behind it, once opened all could see the heavy flashes of pinks, greens, orange and blues. Strobe lights, flash lights, UV strobes ... it had them all.
Like a moth to the flame, one particular girl was drawn to this new club. Having been once before she knew her way around the many winding steps that led to the maze of dance floors within the club. Through the front door one was expected to go downstairs where the main floor was. The DJ in his booth made sure that the music never stopped, always kept the patrons bouncing and sure as ever made sure that the girls remained glued to the flashing dance floor. With the right tune it was easily accomplished, and the DJ tonight definitely knew his way around the music box.
"Alright Guys and Gals! We've got ourself a good night ahead of us! Let's kick up up a notch!" He shouted over the speakers, gaining a resounding 'yes' from the dancers as the song changed. Shifting to another bouncy number, causing the girls to start jumping in their ever too high heeled shoes. Abby was one of them. Her striped shorts and mini dress showing off her long legs, added with the extra height in her heels she stood tall among many of the men. A tall girl wasn't all that common but thankfully, the center of the ceiling was cut away, showing the dimensions of the old historic building.
the six floors above were all cut away in the middle, so that those on the bottom could look up, and those on top could see down ... it was a rather interesting concept but it worked for the Factory Parlour. They had a bar on each floor, professional mixers showing off their skills while others imply pulled pint after pint after pint ... drinks were a steady outflow of the bar. As always, and much like every other time she had come to the place, a glass of muggle alcohol was held in Abby's firm grip. She always kept her drink in her left hand. It left room to use her right hand freely, whether that be dancing, or using her wand.
Unlike anyone else she believed in the bar, Abby was a witch. A drop out from Beauxbatons school of witchcraft in France. Tucked up the inside of her shorts was her wand that she had kept from childhood. Holstered onto her upper thigh by a thing band of leather. She felt safe knowing it was there, but with the ever growing threat against those of impure bloodlines she felt it stupid to waste her time worrying about the future. If she was too drunk to remember anything bad that happened and had a night of debauchery in the process, all the better! "C'mon girls! Tae the middle!" She called out, her thick accent blasting out in such heavy contrast to everyone around her, showing no indication that she had spent the better part of six and a half years living and learning in France. Despite all attempts, she could never rid herself of the accent.
But it made for a fun time speaking French with a thick Scottish accent.
As she walked, glass raised above her head, showing the clear green liquid she swayed her hips, dancing as she walked and watching as her crew of friends followed her. At twenty two she was the right age for a night out and most definitely old enough to have a good time. The girls however, were younger, nineteen or so ... still university students and having a night out away from their stressful exams. With the Christmas rush coming up soon they knew that the city would be more exuberant with students coming and going from home and school, getting in and friendly with the staff before that was always a good and clever option. Who knew what kind of 'friends' benefits they could get from it.
In the center of the room, a heavy UV light shone back and forth over the dancers, illuminating all white shirts and shorts, showing off whatever underwear they decided to wear that night. It was all part of the fun, but Abby had remembered tonight - thankfully - to glamour her wand so that, when the light shone on her it wouldn't pick up the large wooden implement tucked tight against her skin.
with one long pull of the glass, Abby downed the entire lot of her green drink, her face screwing up slightly at the sour taste of it. The name itself was a dead give away, 'Apple Sours' was good however. In mixers it just showed how sweet and sour it could be! "Dance wi' me!" she said, putting her glass down on one of the support poles that had a place for empty glasses to sit with one hand, while her right grabbed hold of one of her friends. She was not a red head like her, so her brown hair simply melded into the dark room. Hers however shone against the lights. A sort of beacon in the dead center of the room as she danced with a similarly inebriated female. Tonight was going to be a good night!- - - - -
Music: LISTEN HERE!
Notes: Remember, its the muggle world ;)
Words: 1050 words
Tags: OPEN
