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Bloody Midnight

San Francisco, Bloody Midnight Night Club

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a part of Bloody Midnight, by Demented.

None

Demented holds sovereignty over San Francisco, Bloody Midnight Night Club, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

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Setting

Default Location for Bloody Midnight
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San Francisco, Bloody Midnight Night Club is a part of Bloody Midnight.

9 Characters Here

Lia Marie Antonelli [0] "Is there anythine else I can get you, Love?"
Hastings Dellphie [0] And what can I get you?
Jon Phantasia De' Fantasm BM [0] A versatile guy with experience in every aspect of clubbing.
Cora Stiller [0] "Sweetie, Get your hand off my ass or I'll let your nuts meet my foot. I'm the manager."
A.J. "Rocky" Goldman [0] The nice guy D.J. who mixes up beats at Midnight.
Namira Blackthorn [0] The fiesty bar owner with a bit of a temper.
Charlie West [0] Smartass bartender who doesn't play by the rules.
Sam North [0] The quiet DJ who lets his music do the talking
Reap Castion [0] Walk away, or end up in a body cast. Your choice.

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"Hey Sam!" Hastings smiled but he was up and gone in a second. "Or not..." she said. She took the drinks that they had poured for her and went back over to the lounge to pass them around. She did that all night, always up and going and on her feet. She was smart not to have worn heels or her feet would be killing her. She took orders, gave them to West or Lia, took the orders back to her owners and got the cash, sometimes with a nice tip. Soon the crowd was dying down and she was picking up the empty cups she found, cleaning up spilled alcohol, pputting chairs back in their rightful places and so on. It was getting close to closing time.

"Hey Namira, am I good to go?" she asked, hoping she was in a good mood.

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AJ's song choice was more than a bit ironic, considering the lyrics immediately made Sam think of his own crush. Well, he wasn't sure how into raving Hastings was, but that wasn't really the point. It actually made him kind of nervous. He'd always tried to keep his feelings for the waitress secret, but that was a little tough when he got so shy and clumsy around her. Had AJ figured it out? Was his crush that obvious. Sam halted that train of thought before it had a chance to go off the track. Once again, he was reading way to much into something as simple as a song. Besides, he had a message to deliver.

"Okay, first off," he began his list, "Namira knows you were late. Just thought you should know that. Second, we need to be here early tomorrow for some private birthday party." Sam was sure to add a little sarcasm at that point. "Apparently it's good money, and the boss promised a little extra cash if we don't screw things up. And finally, just let me know when you need me to take over." He thought for a moment, making sure that was everything. "Oh! And we need to be sober tomorrow." He didn't think that would be much of a problem for either DJ, as Rocky wasn't an excessive drinker and Sam hardly ever drank anyway. Still, it was just a good thing to add, since Namira had emphasized sobriety.

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When his drink came, he picked up his glass. Jon leaned against the bar and looked out onto the dance floor. The song had a good tempo, enough so he was bouncing his foot to the beat. His phone rang to the tune of Crimson Annihilate from the anime series Polyphonica. "Hello, Fantasy speaking." He always answered his phone like this. "Uh huh, yea, OK thanks. yea, you to, bye." Jon finished his Bloody Mary, and went up to Reap. " Hey, what are your thoughts about the FBI people? Something felt..... OFF, about them." He knew Reap was one to notice things like that. He looked around to see if the FBI people were still here and he spotted one of them using the clubs facilities near the back. he looked out the door and sure enough, there was the outline of a black SUV down the street.

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#, as written by reap
Reap looked at the man that walked up to him. He had met the man a few days ago when Reap had first come to apply for bouncing position and they had gotten along alright. "Fake badges, customized M-9 handguns..military grade. Air of suspicion about them, plate-less van that seems to be hovering around a club that's starting to close." The line had ceased to exsist as the hours grew later, Reap was still at his post more out of boardom than anything else. "The M-9s rule out FBI, and most other government branches, they tend to carry standard issue 9mm Glocks. Cheap Low grade 10 second forged badges that anyone with a year of training could spot for fakes. There van down there is more than just plate-less, Tinted windows, and even the mirror are painted black, a rough quick paint job clearly not done in a factory. Or by the government. No stickers or anything to make it stand out. Trench coats like the FBI, low hanging, perfect for concealing things. Point of interest: No suit underneath. FBI where suits." Reap sighed and tightened the bandage covering his lower right arm and knuckles. "I would have to say that they are either Gangsters, not unheard of in a city this size. Or Mobsters, also not unheard of in this city....." He waited a second "and yes there is a difference." Reap turned and walked into the club, helping pick up a few cups here and there. He then donned his coat, and leaned against a wall that allowed him to see both the entrance and the inside of the club. Not a bad first day, hopefully there will be a second. He now waited for Namira to tell him whether he was official or not, as tonight had been basically a test run to see how he would do at the job. After all, it didn't matter what the credentials, you don't run a official high risk mission with a new recruit until you see what he can do in the field. A club was little different in Reap's opinion.