Post by Deleted on Feb 4, 2013 16:08:12 GMT -4
The burnette guy stepped out of the yellow cab and into the neon signs of downtown Queens. His hazel eyes shimmered against the neon lights which buzzed to live along the strip. The man surveyed the strip as he closed the door and rounded the small cab to the front. Leaning down onto the cabby's window, he slipped the man what money he owed and took a step back onto the curb as the car sped away and faded into the rest of the traffic. He waited until he couldn't see the cab anymore before weaving his way through the backed up traffic and across the street to the club. His pace was slowed. He wasn't looking to bring any attention to himself so he tried his best to not stand out and full on sprinting across the street would definitly bring attention to someone.
Another reason he was walking slowly was he didn't care. If someone hit him with their car or if he died right there, he couldn't care. Granted he wasn't going to go out and try to get hit, he was still going to live his life as long as he had, but if something happened that brought him to death's door, he would just accept it and make himself comfortable in his new home. He wouldn't be trying to kill himself but he was however ready to die. He had nothing against someone if they did hit them, he would just allow himself to die. No fighting to live, no regrets, nothing but acceptance. It was his fate and he had been ready to die, but hadn't had the strength to do it himself or bring his own life to a sudden end.
He had just been through so much shit, that at this point, he was surprised he wasn't able to end it himself. He had been so close but hesitated. Something was telling him that he had to stay, that he had so much to live for even when everyone turned their back on him and pushed him around and beat him until he started to believe everything people said about him. Every insult, every put down was embedded into his head and he heard it all so often and had absolutly nobody to turn to for help, so he sat there and took every word and every punch, kick, hit of any sort without shedding a single tear. Most people would have broken by now, but he simply felt as though he couldn't escape. He couldn't bring himself to end this horror show, so it kept on going, spinning round and round in this horrible twisted circle.
The man walked into the club, the line went by fast and we was quickly waved in. He noticed there weren't many minors around. Usually when he worked a club, there was a lot of under aged kids trying to get in to the late night clubs and even get themselves slightly buzzed or totally hammered without having to buy it. Mostly young girls looking for an older gentleman to buy her some drinks. Gotham was notorious for allowing minors into the clubs because the law was very corrupt there and people were very leaneant with punishments. If they were caught, they were pretty much allowed to escape, there wasn't even carding people, the bar tenders usually just let them get in and that was that.
As he entered the club, music pulsed and exploded in his face. The beauty of the club was almost breath taking. The light show was amazing as it was planned to each millasecond of the beat. The dancefloor was hazed over with a slight mist around the dancers feet. There was a slight glare with his glasses that he wore with the black framing blending in with the darkened club.They were only visisble when the lights exploded. He made his way towards the bar, not really taking his eyes off the DJ booth. That was really the whole reason why he was here, this was one of the hottest new clubs and he had to check out the DJ competition and compare his skills to those of the newer DJ's. He had to keep up to stay in business. The better the beat the more gigs you got. But he wouldn't really take anything out of Gotham for extended periods of time. He did have a group of... "friends" in Gotham who needed him.
Leaning against the bar, he waved for the bartender and spoke loudly hoping to be heard over the pulsing music which he still paid attention to even though he was addressing someone. The bartended quickly ran across to bar to Demetri and got the man his beer, opening it, he tossed the cap to the side as he rushed to the next customer. He had never seen the bar at his club this busy, he was going to have to check this place out again tomorrow night a bit early to see when the club hits its peak. Turning around, Demetri rested his forearms against the bar as he took a swig of his beer. Holding the bottles neck in his hand, Demetri surveyed the club. The place was packed and was clearly full of people who were legal. Even he had to applaude the club owner at his skill of being able to keep minors out.
Seeing an empty table near the railing leading down to the dancefloor, Demetri navigated his way through the crowd but not before he placed the money he owed and a tip for the barkeep. Weaving in and out of groups of people, he tried not to bump into anybody and cause a scene. Finally reaching the table, the burnette sat down and placed his cool beer against the metallic table leaving his hand with a lasting cooling feeling as his bottle had been covered with condensation which transferred over to his hand. He sat with a perfect view of the DJ booth and dancefloor as he kicked up his right leg and placed his right foot on his left thigh. He wore a pair of vaugly loose skinny jeans combined with a white muscle shirt hidden under a buttoned up peacoat. The club was hot as anything, but the judgement was too much that he preferred the warmth then more judgement at the hands of society.
Another reason he was walking slowly was he didn't care. If someone hit him with their car or if he died right there, he couldn't care. Granted he wasn't going to go out and try to get hit, he was still going to live his life as long as he had, but if something happened that brought him to death's door, he would just accept it and make himself comfortable in his new home. He wouldn't be trying to kill himself but he was however ready to die. He had nothing against someone if they did hit them, he would just allow himself to die. No fighting to live, no regrets, nothing but acceptance. It was his fate and he had been ready to die, but hadn't had the strength to do it himself or bring his own life to a sudden end.
He had just been through so much shit, that at this point, he was surprised he wasn't able to end it himself. He had been so close but hesitated. Something was telling him that he had to stay, that he had so much to live for even when everyone turned their back on him and pushed him around and beat him until he started to believe everything people said about him. Every insult, every put down was embedded into his head and he heard it all so often and had absolutly nobody to turn to for help, so he sat there and took every word and every punch, kick, hit of any sort without shedding a single tear. Most people would have broken by now, but he simply felt as though he couldn't escape. He couldn't bring himself to end this horror show, so it kept on going, spinning round and round in this horrible twisted circle.
The man walked into the club, the line went by fast and we was quickly waved in. He noticed there weren't many minors around. Usually when he worked a club, there was a lot of under aged kids trying to get in to the late night clubs and even get themselves slightly buzzed or totally hammered without having to buy it. Mostly young girls looking for an older gentleman to buy her some drinks. Gotham was notorious for allowing minors into the clubs because the law was very corrupt there and people were very leaneant with punishments. If they were caught, they were pretty much allowed to escape, there wasn't even carding people, the bar tenders usually just let them get in and that was that.
As he entered the club, music pulsed and exploded in his face. The beauty of the club was almost breath taking. The light show was amazing as it was planned to each millasecond of the beat. The dancefloor was hazed over with a slight mist around the dancers feet. There was a slight glare with his glasses that he wore with the black framing blending in with the darkened club.They were only visisble when the lights exploded. He made his way towards the bar, not really taking his eyes off the DJ booth. That was really the whole reason why he was here, this was one of the hottest new clubs and he had to check out the DJ competition and compare his skills to those of the newer DJ's. He had to keep up to stay in business. The better the beat the more gigs you got. But he wouldn't really take anything out of Gotham for extended periods of time. He did have a group of... "friends" in Gotham who needed him.
Leaning against the bar, he waved for the bartender and spoke loudly hoping to be heard over the pulsing music which he still paid attention to even though he was addressing someone. The bartended quickly ran across to bar to Demetri and got the man his beer, opening it, he tossed the cap to the side as he rushed to the next customer. He had never seen the bar at his club this busy, he was going to have to check this place out again tomorrow night a bit early to see when the club hits its peak. Turning around, Demetri rested his forearms against the bar as he took a swig of his beer. Holding the bottles neck in his hand, Demetri surveyed the club. The place was packed and was clearly full of people who were legal. Even he had to applaude the club owner at his skill of being able to keep minors out.
Seeing an empty table near the railing leading down to the dancefloor, Demetri navigated his way through the crowd but not before he placed the money he owed and a tip for the barkeep. Weaving in and out of groups of people, he tried not to bump into anybody and cause a scene. Finally reaching the table, the burnette sat down and placed his cool beer against the metallic table leaving his hand with a lasting cooling feeling as his bottle had been covered with condensation which transferred over to his hand. He sat with a perfect view of the DJ booth and dancefloor as he kicked up his right leg and placed his right foot on his left thigh. He wore a pair of vaugly loose skinny jeans combined with a white muscle shirt hidden under a buttoned up peacoat. The club was hot as anything, but the judgement was too much that he preferred the warmth then more judgement at the hands of society.