003 | OPEN. red lipstick on the end of a cigarette.

[norea]

Who: Hasibe Ozcelik, and OPEN.
What: A show premieres at The Vault.
Where: The Vault.
When: Evening til the wee hours of the morning.
Notes: I will set up sections in the comments for people to hang out.
Warnings: WELL IT'S AN ADULT CLUB, SO.

The show starts at nine o'clock, and the bar is full pretty quickly thereafter, but the variety in the club is pretty striking. Xenians in their best suits, non-Xenians in leather and ripped fishnets, everything in between. There doesn't seem to be a lot of cultural divide here between human and not, even given recent issues. Hasibe makes good on her promise to have members of her cohort given seating preference, as she's sweet-talked the cocktail dress-clad hostesses, and the bartenders (in their vague approximations of suits with very open shirts) are aware that she's invited a lot of heavy drinkers. ...she just assumes people in her cohort want to drink--they've been kidnapped to a strange city with many new things to offer, so why wouldn't they?

Comments

[neverbreaks.livejournal.com]

The sad reality being that Jules had suffered little better at the hands of humans, strung up and seared and cut until the monster forced it way to the surface to tear her freedom from their hands and their life from their throats; from sulfur slaves, humans who gave up their autonomy to serve devils and banish monsters and hybrids. Emilia, who said she loved her, and apparently was simply biding her time until she could escape without backlash. That was humanity, and with even that, with all they had done, they were still right. It was Jules' kind that inflicted pain, and the abominations that brought hybrids into being that had shattered the humans world and forced them into that violence. Humans were pain and suffering, but maybe that was all they had, anymore. Maybe that was all Jules' and her kind deserved.

She's lost in her thoughts, because even with the breaks in the hedgerow, they ultimately remain a maze. It's a surprise, almost, when Ilde touches her arm, and Jules barely manages a weak smile. "You too. Good night," she somehow manages, before her gaze settles back on her hands.