[Sodium_noir] Club Harlequin, where the lights dim

[concrete chaos]

Arkana
Brujah
..en route to Club Harlequin..
The streets were damp and the Brujah took care not to skid into some ditch
on her way to the Harlequin's, she kept her bike at a steady speed.

On the way she silently chided herself for not wearing her leather jacket
since rain was always present in this city and chances were the drops would
not simply slide off the army green jacket she wore tonight, canvas would
let it seep in for sure.

Soon after she arrived at her destination and parked outside, as she got
closer to the club's doors she removed her helmet and went inside. As always
the staff were charming, and she smiled brightly as she gave them her helmet
and jacket. Her dresscode was not of the club's usual patrons, not that she
minded, she just hoped the Harlequin didn't mind, but she didn't think so,
he did not seem like someone to be hung up on something so frivolous as to
ask someone to not be themselves just because others felt comfortable in
fancy shit.

As she went inside she straightened out her top, and looked at her image in
the reflecting surfaces on her way to the bar, she loved this top it
reminded her of Johnny Rotten cause she took the idea from him - with the
safety pins attaching the torn white t-shirt of betty page to the long
sleeved white one she wore under it.

As she made her way to the bar she noticed the Harlequin, cause you couldn't
miss him, talking to another intresting looking fellow, decked in white such
a beautiful contrast to his dark skin. Ordering a dark rum and coke she took
up a stool at the bar and lit up a cigarette, sipping her drink she looked
around and immediately noticed the lack of the usual songstress on stage,
shrugging she returned to her own space and observed the club never having
seen it as empty as tonight.

[tag to keep the world turning]
-- 
'I don't have low self-esteem, it's a mistake. I have low esteem for other
people'. - Daria
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