open post ● we're about to get up and burn this floor

[boomvox]

Who: Everyone.
What: The Grand Re-Opening of the Gravity Falls Station.
Where: Babylon.
When: Veerdi to Sukkardi.
Notes: Party post!!! Go nuts y'all.
Warnings: Probable alcohol (and drug?) use. Flag stuff in subject titles if it needs a warning and I'll edit it up in here.

It's clear from the first moment anyone even gets on the Skyrail tonight that the Stratosphere Entertainment Group's pricey investment is going to pay off - every rail car is crowded with people decked out and excited for the event. To natives of Baedal, the idea of a holiday is days off work, maybe some camping - escape is alien, a little frightening, and completely thrilling. Even when the Gravity Falls station had hosted other venues, it was nothing so ambitious as to capture the imaginations of the city as a whole. And to immigrants to the city who no longer have the luxury of even simple trips out of town - well, it's priceless. A bittersweet but suddenly vital excursion.

Doors open just as the sun begins to set, the light reflecting off the water of the ocean illuminating the great floating platform as if the entire sky was on fire, before slipping into deep purple then black, the ceiling of their experience dotted with brilliant stars. Staff members wrangling the hazards of the first night are anxious but excited, kind and helpful even if they end up frazzled by the overwhelming turnout. There is security, all sporting neon purple shirts with lion logos, but even by their own admission, they're only there to breakup fights - and even they're smiling all night, too.

Comments

arrival ● skyrail & entrance

[boomvox]

It's unusual for the Skyrail to be as packed as it is, but the novelty and cheap entry fee is bringing out the crowds. It'll probably thin out in the later hours as everyone but the truly dedicated party animals sates their curiosity and slinks back down to earth, but it's a fun phenomenon while it lasts: shoulder to shoulder with glammed up citizens, oo-ing and aa-ing in unison as the car approaches the station over the water, lit up like Vegas.

The arrival platform looks a little like the gates to a kitschy theme park - or it would, if kitschy theme parks had performers outside passing out Jell-o shots and hand stamps (often in that order, un/fortunately?) before anyone's even inside, riling the crowd up and laughing as dark iridescent confetti and flower petals drift occasionally through, caught on the ocean breeze.

the grounds ● gardens

[boomvox]

Despite the excitement and chaos, the garden trails that snake through Babylon remain relatively calm, tonight. Fairy lights and a sedate, conservative aesthetics make every artful canopy and fish pond seem like an oasis. There are scattered benches, and several leaf-covered nooks and coves hiding rustic outdoor lounges. Along the edges of the platform itself (don't worry about pitching yourself off, they have wards for that), the dark atmosphere creates a beautiful (and perhaps slightly nerve-wracking) view. It's a little like a treasure hunt trying to find the bar hidden back there, lowly lit and nearly entirely obscured by trees. There's no music out here save the muted echos from the club, but the ocean can be heard well.

[asklepios]

With cocktail glass in hand (the Modernista) and wearing a dress she doesn't often have an occasion for, Benevenuta can be found standing just as close to the platform's edge as the wards will let her get, watching the distant lights of the city across the water and listening to the echo from the club behind her. She's mingled a little already - she has colleagues, acquaintances and friends in all sorts of places in this city - and she intends to do more, in a while, but just at the moment--

It's a beautiful view.

[egodefence]

He was looking for someone else, originally. She was wearing red, as she seems to favour red, making sure to catch his attention through the crowds and promptly disappearing if he attempted to get any closer. Stupid games, is his thought, the objectives of which Gaius hasn't worked out by the time he is led -- or has led himself -- out into the gardens, that dizzying view visible as horizon.

Well, while he's here.

After a few relatively unselfconscious moments of standing around and considering the cigarettes in his pocket and then deciding against them, Gaius eventually materialises within Benevenuta's periphery. Navigating events like this as an unknown entity is unusual, to him, both good and bad, but it's inevitable that he would gravitate towards the more familiar of strangers.

"Dr. Bernàt," is polite greeting. He's dressed well, maybe a little boringly in comparison to everyone else, a suit sans tie and glasses on his face, clean cut and a little more settled than he'd been when they'd first met, nerves behind a veneer of practiced professionalism. It helps that he has a regular income. And a prescription.

[thedominatrix]

It is probably telling that while Irene's first thought upon catching sight of Benevenuta is deeply and purely appreciative, her second thought is we'll look good together. These things are important; being eye-catching is important. She enjoys the subtle and fairly deceitful contrast which their outfits imply; dark and light.

For a moment, she does wonder being so visibly linked will become a problem now that Vanessza Bernàt is a name which is getting tossed around more and more frequently in philanthropic circles. The not so philanthropic circles, Irene can manage- criminals are easy, old hat, her sort of people in the first place. Dealing in politics has always been more complicated than dealing in crime.

But being circumspect is tedious and it's a party. Irene draws close, the train of her dress untouched by dust, literally magically- it took her a while to get used to the possibilities which Baedal offers. She doesn't try to measure the pros and cons anymore, of course. It only ever kept her up at night.

"I could probably talk you down," she announces with every shade of seriousness and no sincerity, looking out at the sea and then at Benevenuta and it is a beautiful view, isn't it, "if it's necessary. I think I'm very persuasive."

[lazarusrisen]

To her right, a man steps up to the edge, peering downward with eyebrows raised. "I have the strangest urge to lean against the wards and test them, is that ridiculous?" he asks, lifting his gaze toward her, a small smile on his lips. "Sorry, I don't mean to interrupt your admiring the view."

[berserkergang]

Something falls from the sky. It is big and Nordic.

The sound of wind hails his arrival, seen at first as a speck in the sky before it comes careening for the open sky gardens of Babylon, resolving as silver and scarlet and blonde. He flies hammer first but lands on his feet in a sudden slam of weight and power against the floors of the platform, enough to make it reverberate and send a few unknowing bystanders skittering back in relative alarm. Flying may not be unknown here, but Thor Odinson is unsubtle at the best of times. He rises from his landing crouch, and squints a look around at strange new surroundings.

He is actually dressed up for the occasion, if only by accident. Silver armor scales his arms, Asgardian armor an intricate pattern and a hard shell for broad torso, and a lengthy scarlet cloak comes down at a dramatic arc and sweep from his shoulders. Mjölnir is gripped in one hand, a metallic hum still vibrating off the metal and dimming back to silence.

Turning it once in his hand, he opts to investigate this massive, floating fasthold. If this is a scheduled party, he is probably not actually aware.

[deservesadaisy]

Ivan had been outside smoking a cigarette - he's here mainly because he is not past wanting to keep Ilde mainly in his sight, and she wanted to come - and he's far enough back that he doesn't have to move at the abrupt landing. He certainly notices, though. Thor is a hard person to miss.

He also remembers him from the Network as running afoul of Daniil's distaste for rising abruptly or early.

So when he passes, Ivan offers a mild, "You do make an entrance, don't you."

Some people say hello, Ivan.

[boomvox]

The unidentified heritage Jae holds - the thing that's been peeking through the cracks of his humanity lately, unknown to him - has always offered a particularly useful feature: he's a good luck charm. Not for him, but for people he's around; he's just lucky. You'll always get a good parking spot if he's sitting in your passenger seat.

Tonight, that luck is being bestowed upon a security guard. A security guard who, at this moment, is marching towards Thor to demand he pay the 15bux it is to get into the microcanton. Jae's outside to get some air and sees this about to happen - darts over, hand coming up on the guy's shoulder.

"It's cool, he just didn't know where the door was," he says cheerfully, and to the sudden frown he gets in response, Jae shoves (more than enough) cash into the guy's hand.

Problem solved! ... Without Thor smashing anybody.

Though now Jae is left standing awkwardly next to someone who, in person, does not look much like a LARPer. Yikes.

[gramarye]

It occurs to him about an hour into being inside that he didn't make the best choice in pants tonight, these things don't breathe at all and it's still warm enough in the evening to make it thoroughly uncomfortable. He'd put up with that ordinarily - look, he's from Tel Aviv, you don't know heat until you've lived somewhere where it's 95 degrees and 90% humidity - but he's still not feeling well and all these circumstances are conspiring for a miserable sneaky hate spiral.

He excuses himself after a while and goes outside for air, meandering towards the gardens where it's less crowded. It's pretty here, he likes it, and if it weren't so out of his price range he'd maybe come again, but. Anyway, at least he plans on enjoying the parts he does actually enjoy, so he sits down on a bench and digs for a cigarette and his lighter, growing more irritated when it refuses to work, over and over, and -

- he huffs, annoyed, and the cigarette just lights itself. That and a leaf on a nearby bush. He makes a dismayed little noise and blows it out. No one saw that, right?

[toooldforlosing]

Raylan is here, and he's forgotten why he thought coming was a good idea. No, that's not fair - he came because he's paranoid, and he thinks that this many people gathered in one place is a temptation for all sorts of people. It's not his jurisdiction, he's not on duty, he doesn't know almost anyone here... and yet.

In truth, though, nothing seems to be going wrong, and Raylan feels desperately out of place. He's wearing a black button-down shirt and dark jeans, and he left his hat at home ("home"), which almost counts as being in disguise. As it seems no disasters are forthcoming, he's somehow managed to acquire an entire bottle of bourbon, and found a bench that's tucked out of the way in what passes for quiet. He can probably be prevailed upon to share, though, if asked politely.

He thinks it's probably deeply wrong that he'd prefer it if something went down.

[mayqueen]

It's a need for reconnaissance that brings her out, mostly. It sure as hell isn't any desire to mingle, or to admire the view - being this far above the earth simply makes her uncomfortable. Disconnected. But she suspects that the sort of social events that will bring together any number of her cohort in one place are few and far between; though she's still a long way from actively seeking out conversation, she can play the part of the wallflower for a while. Gather faces and names and an idea of what social structure might have formed in this mass of former strangers.

This is also the event that finally prompted her to buy some clothes. With the chlorophyll in her skin suppressed and her hair brushed back into a loose chignon, she doesn't look like a rampaging forest spirit in the least; apart from the spark of an unusually bright green in her eyes she doesn't look even remotely inhuman. Her scent (clean sharp mint and sweet lavender) could be attributed to perfume. Probably.

She's taken a turn in the club - too crowded for her tastes, though it was difficult not to take a warning for psychoactive pheromones as a direct invitation - and now she's wandering the gardens barefoot, drink in one hand and shoes dangling from the other, an ear open for gossip from the garden plants and anything else she might catch. After the heat and noise of the club it's utterly calm here.

the grounds ● pools & bars

[boomvox]

In the more central areas of the main grounds, there are a handful of inter-connected swimming pools with luxury-grade decks, cabanas and lounge chairs, even bottle service. The bars - one pool-side, one in the pool - play music piped in live from the club. There are lifeguards, yes, and they exist tonight in a perpetual state of exasperation with the number of drunk patrons ending up fully clothed in the water.

[rhinemaid]

Presumably it comes as no surprise that Ilde eventually ends up by the pools - it's not unusual when she wears a dress long enough for it to become inexplicably damp around the hem if she isn't paying attention (magic, it's exciting), but tonight she has indeed come by it honestly, exploring the interconnected areas and carrying her shoes. Her grip on her illusions is loosened, here, and the lights reflecting off the water catch on her skin, gleaming, which makes her a pretty bit of background as someone else takes a drunken tumble and she laughs, startled, navigating a few fast-paced steps in a half-circle not to end up set off balance herself by the ripples of stumbling around the edge of the pool.

It's probably a good thing she hadn't ordered a drink yet, anyway; she's meandering with vague intent towards one of the bars out here for a non-alcoholic cocktail she can nurse on a lounge chair until she decides where she wants to go next. Maybe she'll go put her shoes in her hotel room.

[captaincocksure]

Some patrons, however, are using the pools for their proper, intended purpose. Swimming, appropriately undressed, rather than being tossed in, pushed in, falling in with all their clothes on during drunken carousing.

One figure was cutting strong, decisive laps up and down one of the pools, but the more drunk people with clothes on he has to dodge, the slower he gets. Finally, Jim gives up, surfacing from the water seemingly all at once, hands grasping the sides, strong arms hauling himself up with a bit of a splash as he breaks the surface.

He climbs out and strides to a nearby deck chair, completely unselfconscious about the fact that he's dripping wet and clad in a small swimsuit (generations way before his own would have referred to such a garment as a "Speedo") that's neon purple and bears the Babylon's logo. He's got the flushed skin, slightly heaving chest, and pleased smile that one gets when one is enjoying a good post-workout endorphin rush; the smile doesn't fade as he plucks a towel off a pile folded neatly on his chair, attacking his hair first.

the club ● dance floor

[boomvox]

Babylon's main event and crown jewel is its massive, multi-floored and lavishly decorated dance club and performance venue. They've booked a wide array of acts, and if you don't like one artist's style, you can always come back in an hour and check out the next one on the lineup. DJs for dance music, one death metal band, a delicate but enthusiastic pop starlet, and even a performance artist who contorts herself to abstract birdsong and hypnotizes the crowd with her benign telepathy (everyone really wants to give peas a chance, after).

Music enthusiasts the multiverse over are certainly familiar with yee olde recording disclaimers, often pasted on the doors of a venue, the minimal effort of management covering their ass about putting any given show on a DVD later. But in Baedal, the tacked-up fliers at the doors carry a different sort of message:

WARNING! YOU MAY BE ALTERED!
SEVERAL ACTS CONTAIN PSYCHOACTIVE PHEROMONES,
MAGIC, REALITY-WARPING, AND RADICAL SOUND.
BE KIND TO YOUR NEIGHBOR'S MIND!

This does not actually appear to be a deterrent to the vast majority of patrons.

[gwynn]

So approximately no one is surprised that Megan is here, in fact there are several people here who came out tonight under the assumption that she would be. She's pretty predictable like that.

It is also no big shock that after a short detour to the bar - she's been pregaming, she's trying to be a little frugal since she still needs to find a place of her own, but while she's here she ought to at least sample some bizarro cocktail - that she immediately heads out on the dance floor. She is dressed to stand out, even in Baedal, not that she ever blends in, in a neon green dress and the most ridiculous heelless boots.

So she's dancing! On the dance floor! What a novelty!

Every now and then she drifts closer to less-crowded areas with one or two people who go back out in the crowd looking dazed and happy and wanting to hug everyone in the world, and Megan tucks a couple bills into her underwear. What, it's a living.

[obscuredvision]

The warning flyers don't deter Ava, though the death metal band does; she takes the hour to take a couple of jello shots and check out the rest of the club. She wanders from lounge to garden to pools and back again, reappearing in time for the pop singer and staying through the dance DJ that follows.

It's nice to be out; managing the boarding house is more than a full-time job (as it is, she's checking her CiD often to make sure some catastrophe hasn't befallen the place while she's dancing). It's nice to be doing something else for a change, something fun.

She keeps dancing, careful not to tread on anyone's feet with her spike heels, peeling off the metallic gray jacket that matches the leggings she paired with a black fitted t-shirt. She ties the jacket around her waist, warm from dancing and from the press of bodies on the dance floor, but she doesn't miss a beat, still moving, happy to dance with anyone who lingers as they pass in front of her.

[boomvox]

Jae's set goes well - something Jae is thrilled about, because he wasn't kidding about being the D-list attraction in the main lineup, and truth be told, he was a little nervous. Nervous, but extremely happy to have been booked, so he made sure it was a great show (and nothing like the ones he runs at the Vault, he doesn't want anyone frowning at him). When it's over he does the rounds, elated, grovels at the stage manager and lets a few people buy him a drink - the moment he's able, he snags someone's hand and flees, but not out: right back into the thicker chaos.

Sunny likes dancing, right?

the club ● main bar & lounge

[boomvox]

The club at Babylon has a few bars scattered throughout, though only one hosts such an impressive scroll of a bar top and a tiny maze of seating. Bottle service and even certain snacks can be obtained, and while the volume is still loud enough to require people lean their heads together to communicate verbally (like any good music venue's sound system will require), it's a step down from the nearly-deafening chaos of the main drag.

[meanwhileback]

Now that's an impressive bar. No one in the city will be surprised that Ms. Lane, immediately after entering the dazzling venue, makes a beeline for the place where all the alcohol lives.

The bartender, decked out with brighter-than-bright colors and a determined grin, helpfully serves Penelope a magenta pink drink with a twist of citrus peel and some sort of ice cube containing a flashing LED light. Nice. Not what Penelope had meant to order, but in the din of the club's excellent acoustics, it's a much better result than she could have gotten.

Taking a seat at the bar, she gazes out over the arriving swarm of human and xenian citizens thronging to celebrate the sheer act of living. Penelope will have a drink or two before she gets out to the dance floor, maybe find someone she knows and grab a seat at the lounge. Until then... well, people-watching has always been right up there on her list of favorite pastimes. Maybe she'll catch a breakup or fight in progress or something!

[asimovsdream]

It's amazing how much free time Data has now that he's been fired from his job in the mines. Money has definitely become a problem (or, to be accurate, more of a problem), he's due to be evicted from his shabby Flag Hill apartment at the end of the month, and finding another job has been impossible so far, but the upside has definitely been gaining the freedom to explore Baedal extensively at night.

He'd heard about this grand opening on the Network; the cover charge is cheap and he's intrigued by the skyrail, so he decides to make an evening of it. The view from the train is informative enough to make the entire trip worth it, and when he reaches the Gravity Well station, it's obvious that the party's going strong.

Socializing has never been one of Data's talents, but that hasn't stopped him before, and it's not going to stop him now. He heads straight for the club (because that's where most of the other people are heading), though he's a little unsure of what to do once he's there. Eventually he decides to have a seat in the lounge, since all the styles of dancing he observes are unfamiliar to him. The music is still perfectly audible from here, and he listens with interest while he people-watches.

[ his outfit! ]

the hotel ● main entrance

[boomvox]

Babylon's hotel has certain areas open to the public, tonight, permitting interested patrons to get a good look at the goods for future reference. Both restaurants are up and running, and if you'd like a room for the night, they would be more than happy to accommodate you. Space is limited, however, and there are no discounts in here like there was to get into the club and grounds. Even if you don't decide to stay, it's a lovely place to kill an hour and catch your breath.

[gotbottle]

Rachel is nothing if not nosy determined to be as informed as possible about this city. The majority of people in attendance tonight are here for the club, she's sure, but there's more to Babylon than that and she wants to check out as much as she can.

She steps through the main entrance, pausing just inside to get her bearings. She's wearing a pair of dark wash jeans, black ballet flats, and a low-cut, sleeveless, black sequinned wrap top. Her hair is loose, falling about her shoulders, some of the iridescent confetti from the club entrance lingering in it here and there.

There are restaurants, and the way to them is clearly marked; the front desk is also conspicuously located, as it should be. But those are the obvious paths to take. She starts heading, instead, across the lobby, mostly to see if she can get past it. If she's stopped, she'll play "lost, confused, and a little bit tipsy," and ask questions about room rates and recommendations for things to try at the restaurants as she lets herself be shown to somewhere to sit and people-watch.

If she's not stopped, she's going to roam the place a while and then come back for the aforementioned people-watching.

misc ● everything else

[boomvox]

Pregaming? Ducked into a bathroom? Did you get drunk and manage to crawl half naked onto a roof? .. Do we even want to know?