Description: Quin takes a tumble down the rabbithole through Kabuchiko in Southtown and runs into Velvet Blue in a themed karaoke bar.
Southtown is host to quite a few bars and hangouts in the entertainment district--god knows there's a lot of them. Thanks to the city's relative lack of crime, there is not too much to worry about for someone wanting to go out in the refreshingly cool evening air, thanks to it being September. While it's around 70-80 during the day, the temperature dips a bit. Right now in Kabukicho, it's lit nearly as well as it might be during the day--save for the blue skies. 7-Eleven signs are lit up, as are countless others, most in Japanese, though some are in English--restaurants, ice cream parlors, phone stores, iMax theaters... and of course, Karaoke places.
As Quin isn't a legal adult (yet) it might be difficult to get into some of the ones hosting bars, or the like--but that's not the only ones available. The neon blue signage of one particular seems to beckon to them...
the interior theme? Rocky Horror Picture Show, of course.
As a result, the interior is red velvet sofas, dark lacquer, and a neon red pair of lips over the backwall of the establishment. The karaoke stage area is off to one side, while a large archway leads to other parts of the establishment. Apparently to a dance floor.
Quin probably needs to not stay out too late -- school night, after all -- but it's one of those nights where if she doesn't get out, she's going to start chewing the wallpaper. SO YEAH. Entertainment district is a good place to be, at least for a little while.
She doesn't have to wear her school uniform, but she's one of those kinds that you wouldn't catch DEAD in a skirt or pair of shorts. But that doesn't mean she's frumpy. Fact, she's dressed like a boy... and unless one has very good senses, that's how she comes across -- as a high school-age boy. While she's not familiar with the Rocky Horror Picture Show except by reputation and a few clips -- also the firm belief that Tim Curry did a DAMN good job of it, from what little she's seen of it -- what she's wearing, masculine slant aside, is not too out of sync with the decor.
She's wearing all black -- sleeveless mock-neck, short-sleeved mesh shirt over it, jeans with TWO -- count 'em, TWO! -- belts (also black), and a pair of clunky military-esque boots. She's also got her nails painted black. No makeup, though, since it might make her look too feminine if she does.
At the moment, she's just in the entrance area, looking around at her surroundings, trying to figure out what all's going on in here.
A pair of yellow, cat-like eyes blink in the dark--eyelids batting, as they seem to form out of the shadows of the club itself--a fanged yet sparkingly ivory set of teeth appearing beneath them, hanging suspended in seemingly mid-air as they begin to move closer to the combat boots-clad figure that just walked in. The pupils of the yellow eyes are like vertical diamonds, almost--is it a large cat, or something else?
"Where are you going there, private?" a soft seductive voice comes from the darkness. "Eh... if you don't know where you're going, any road /will/ get you there," the eyelids shut and the mouth closes--the strange sight disappearing from sight entirely.
Of course, if Quin looks around--there is something that was not there before--a figure is sitting on the edge of the stage. They are sitting sidways and leaning back, pulling legs clad in very shiny thigh-high indigo boots--the texture over them swims with pinpricks of light that might be stars, glittering in the cosmos. The boots curiously are open-toed, showing off dark pointed nails. The rest of them is clad in a matching set of fingerless shoulder-length gloves and what looks like a dark form-fitting spandex suit. The hair is dark and long, and there is what looks like... bat ears over where their's should be? and a long blue spaded tail hangs out from behind their waist, twisting about behind them against the edge of the stage.
Now Quin, being completely normal and not really particularly sensitive to any sort of supernatural weirdness, is apt not to notice when this strange anomaly appears. Just ask the movie Beetlejuice -- 'live people ignore the strange and unusual'. Then again, like Lydia Deetz, it can be argued that Quin is 'strange and unusual'. Though probably not so much so as said anomaly that appears.
Thus it's not 'till the anomaly speaks that Quin turns in that direction, jumping a little. She looks in the anomaly's direction... and blinks. "Uh. Hi," she offers, her voice not giving away much more in the way of information about male or female than her looks. Gonna take a good sense of smell to figure that out. Belatedly though, she realizes there's a question asked. "Oh, uh. One of those days where if I don't get outta the house I was gonna end up climbin' the walls and chewin' on the wallpaper. So just comin' out to see what's up in the local neighborhood."
Much like the goth from that particular movie, Quin appears to be the only person here that notices the monstrous qualities of this one, as folks proceed on by and around them without so much as a second glance.
"Mmm, don't worry, hon--we're all mad here," the figure, who appears to have some kind of fur-ruff around the shoulders and chest of their bodysuit assures them, meanwhile peering down into what looks like a clamshell makeup kit, they're idly applying the last of what looks like eyeliner to their lashes before blinking a few times and snapping the compact shut--stuffing it down the front of their suit. Likely into some pocket. The figure is androgynous, though maybe a bit more than Quin is--the fur ruff seems to obscure the chest a bit just for that reason.
"Oh? And why did you choose this place, hmmm?" the tailed figure stands up, arching their back with a few audible pops over the music of vertebrae, before sauntering closer to Quin now, grinning again.
"Mmph, I love your boots," they utter in a purring voice, looking down at the masculine, military-style getup they have on, their dark claw-like nails curling a bit as they give Quin a once over, as if anxious.
Quin snorts a quiet laugh. "Ain't THAT the truth," she mutters, regarding 'we're all mad here'. Quin tilts her head a little as the person fixes their makeup -- yeah, Quin honestly can't tell if this one's male or female. But it doesn't really matter. Quin, for her part, has her chest wrapped under her shirt, as she usually does when she goes out. So she's not perfectly disguised, but it's difficult for normal people to discern.
The question of why gets a blink. "Well, I'm a little spoiled for choice, since I'm not drinkin' age yet. I dunno if I'd go drink even if I was, really, but..." She shrugs. And as she's being given the once-over, she's also looking this person over. "Great costume, by the way." Yeah. Costume. Right. But she apparently hasn't noticed that nobody ELSE seems to have noticed them...
"I'm Velvet Blue, that's what I'm known around these parts, anyway," blinking and looking back up at Quin. "Aww, poor thing--not old enough yet? Did you want a drink? The bar is back there," they gesture with a shrug, half-turning away when the bit about their outfit is uttered.
"Great costume? I'd say the same to you," Velvet grins, turning back to Quin. Behind them, their tail flicks like a cracking whip, and the large bat ears actually wiggle just a bit, like a cat who's found something they are amused by.
"Would you care to take a seat?" Quin would feel the warmth of Velvet's fingers on their wrist before they are abrutply tugged in the direction of one of the large red velvet couches. Velvet would lead the boy-girl there, then sprawl out in one corner of the sofa, stretching out luxuriously half-sidways and crossing their legs, lounging in it. Their tail emerges from beneath them and hangs down over the edge of the sofa.
"You don't look like the normal sort of tough or heavy that happens around these parts--looking for a fight," Velvet makes a come hither motion in the air and with a few moments a waitress is flagged down. Said waitress is carrying a silver tray with a newspaper on it, dressed in what looks like a girdle, shorts, garter-belt and fishnets along with heels--very Frankenfurter.
"Thank you babe," Velvet winks up to the scantily dressed and androgynous waitress--they are sporting a pencil-thin moustache and mole along with the red lipstick.
"Quin," she returns at the introduction. That's probably not this one's 'real' name, this 'Velvet Blue', so Quin's not about to give her full name either. As for a drink? That gets a shake of her head. "Nah. I'm not fond of what the stuff can do to ya." Alcohol, that is. That tail, though... that moves really naturally. So do those ears. Brain-wave technology, Quin figures. They're probably just those brain-wave things.
Her brain just can't open that particular possibility that they might be real.
She doesn't seem to feel particularly threatened by the tug on her wrist, so she heads to the couch when tugged over, and sits. She has a relaxed way of sitting, not really betraying any sort of nervousness, both feet planted on the ground. The words of looking for a fight also get a shake of her head. "Nope. I'm not really the fisticuffs kind. I kinda wanna hit adulthood without having my nose broken, yeah?" She gives a mischievous half-smile. And she also nods to the waitress in greeting, because hey -- service folk are people too!
"Somehow figured you weren't--though some of them do wrap their chest down," Velvet unfolded the newspaper they had taken from the platter--along with what looked like a frosted glass of soda and icecubes for him and his guest on the sofa. "There you go, dear," Velvet purred as they handed the frosted glass off to Quin. It was just coca cola and ice. Handling their own glass idly they read through the headlines of the paper.
"Hmph, gangs and hoodlums terrorizing the streets again, especially over in America, you ever been?" they glanced to Quin, sipping their drink as they bobbed one high-heeled booted foot as they sat cross-legged. Quin would be able to see Velvet's claw-like nailed toes curl idly through the open end of the boots.
The waitress departs, heading off to go handle another table somewhere--on the stage behind them seemingly no one has taken up the microphone yet, slow night, maybe?
"I'm inside these places a lot--I work a few of the cabarets and bars downtown, kind of lucky you found me here."
Quin nods. Not one to get upset about her gender getting outed, she doesn't seem surprised or disappointed that the chest-wrapping was noticed. The offered glass is accepted. "Thanks, I appreciate it," she replies. She doesn't bother looking at the newspaper, but she nods at the question. "I was born there," she replies. "Moved over here a year ago. Thankfully it wasn't to try to escape that. Real mess, that."
The mention of being lucky gets a raised brow. "Oh? That'd be a first, I'm known for having incredibly bad luck." There is a degree of amusement in the statement, though it's amusement of her own situation rather than anything going on with Velvet Blue.
"Just in case you were wondering, yes I am a guy," Velvet gestured to themselves, apparently realizing their mistake with blurting out the wrapping bit. Velvet turned the paper over, sipping at their drink and puckering their lips after the straw left it, just to make sure their lipstick was still straight.
"You moved here? huh, I travel here and there, depends on how well the stage circuit is going--I do some competitions and contests here there for spare cash, but I'm known to these places, too--got moves and a set of pipes, y'see," he winked at her, relaxing themselves and sitting back with the paper and the drink.
"Bad luck? maybe you ran into a black cat," Velvet says this, irreverent of the fact their hair is jet-black.
Quin blinks at the admission. "Huh? Oh. No problem. Given my own personal preference towards androgyny, I got no right telling nobody else how to act," she replies, with a wave of her hand. "I got no problem with it. Though I admit I was curious."
As for the question of moving here? Quin nods. "Back home wasn't all that great to me, so I decided to jump the ocean and see if it was a little more friendly. Been better so far." Her brows raise, though, as Velvet notes his talents. "Oh? I consider myself with a reasonably decent voice. Nothing really special, but I can carry a tune."
"That's fair, though with my dear it wouldn't do any good even if you did," Velvet grinned again, and his fang-like eyeteeth dented his lower lip as they smiled. He could grin like the cat from Alice in Wonderland.
"Curioser and curioser, eh? So am I, usually--that's why I was wondering why you came in here, maybe looking for a girl? Or a guy?" the performer's eyes roved over to where Quin was sitting on their corner of the sofa. "I understand being lonely, and all that--that's why I like places like these--where there are lots of people," they clucked their tongue, taking another sip of their soda.
"You do, do you? Maybe I ought to drag you up on stage sometime there, hmm?" they smiled again--lips closed this time, more teasing.
Quin chuckles a little. "It don't bother me for people to know, either," she notes. "I don't put up a big front for the sake of 'grrr I'm a MAAAAAN'. I'm me. That's the important bit." As for her looking for a girl/guy? That gets an actual laugh. "Oh geez, no. I just came to... observe the night life, I guess. Just needed to get out. You know that feelin', right? Stir-crazy?"
The mention of dragging her up on stage gets a snort of laughter. "Hardly. I'm just following amateur singers, and not even on their level. I got the bucket and the handle, that's about it." As in 'I can carry a tune if it has a handle/if it's in a bucket/etc.'.
"I'm always crazy, so I know how that is," Velvet went on smiling, looking up and past the bar on the otherside of the establishment to view something on one of the monitors mounted above it. Things were really coming to a head over in America, he might have to take a stroll over there--maybe after this weekend, even--Saturday Night Fight shenanigans were coming up, after all.
"So not looking for anyone, and not looking to sing, I see--maybe you should try it sometime, though--I think you'd be very good at it--but I'm curious, what's with the military getup? Not that I don't like it--the combat boots are a nice touch," Velvet grinned again, uncrossing nad crossing their legs again, their tail flicking beneath them.
"Don't mind that, by the way--it has a mind of it's own," Velvet waved off the strange spaded appendage.
"I think it's like you said... everyone is, at least a little," Quin replies. "They either already are, or are getting driven there pretty quick." Maybe a profound statement there... one that's spoiled by an inelegant snort. "Or maybe it's just me and I'm completely batshit insane and don't know it." As for the singing? "Eh, I do it on occasion, but usually in one of those Japanese-style karaoke places, the ones where it's just you and whoever in a soundproof room with the equipment in there."
Though the mention of the 'military' outfit gets her to look down at her outfit. "I didn't know it was that military-looking. I just thought the boots were a nice touch. Thought it kinda made me look like a badass enough that somebody might not wanna mess with me on the way here."
As for the tail? Quin eyes the spaded appendage with mock-suspicion. "No fresh stuff outta you," she mock-warns, pointing at the tail.
"Especially here, that is, if they let themselves see it," another smile from Velvet, their tail flicking. "You're only given a little spark of madness when you're born, you must not waste it, or let it go out," he sighs a little, shaking his head. "Too many people don't realize that," he sats his drink down on the table nearby the sofa, folding the paper and laying it against their lap.
"You must take care to remember that, cherie," Velvet Blue puts their hand to their lips and--blows Quin a kiss? But what happens next couldn't possibly happen--because what looks like multi-colored sparks fly from Velvet's hand as this happens--falling against where Quin is currently sitting--passing into their body? They'd feel a jump--like energy surged into them. For a moment Velvet's own features seemed to elongate and exaggerate--like Quin had just dropped a whole blotter of acid--the world seen through a prismatic screen--before everything returns to normal in an instant!
Quin smirks a little. "I dunno if it's a bad thing not to be crazy," she notes. "Just that, in this world, if you're not a little bit, you'll end up a lot." Even though she can't possibly know that she's talking about something completely different than the typical everyday mess. Or that she's talking TO something different than just an everyday person.
Suddenly there are sparks, and... things are really weird and swimmy and stretched, like the melting watch... but just for a moment. Quin blinks, looking to where the sparks hit her. Looking for burns or anything. Probably nothing.
She reaches a hand up to rub her eyes. "Aw geez, I hope they didn't spike this thing," she mutters, looking suspiciously at the drink she's been taking sips of throughout the conversation. Looking to Velvet Blue, "They're not known for spiking drinks here, are they? Without being asked to, I mean."
"A little is healthy, I find--as for your question, I don't think so, I think my company is just that intoxicating, dear," Velvet winked at her, the heeled open-toed boots clicking as he was at once on his feet and standing quite upright, without hardly any time at all. He was still cradling the frosted glass of soda, now nearly drained, as if in an instant.
"You will be fine, I think, do come again by the way, I will be around if you need me again," he bowed his head and then walked back deeper into the club, leaving the paper folded on the sofa as the only real sign that the strange figure had been there.
Log created on 19:33:17 09/11/2018 by Velvet Blue, and last modified on 23:53:49 09/11/2018.