fit check for my napalm era
Verity had suggested the Blue Hour.
It was quieter, more elegant, with music low enough to allow conversation and loud enough not to allow eavesdropping. The cocktails were excellent, and food, but the atmosphere was discreet enough that one could still do business in case they decided to do an impromptu legislative workshop. Verity even had her datapad in the stylish sparkly clutch that matched the midnight of her dress, just in case the mood struck.
Verity had been roundly overruled -- probably to prevent any possibility of an ad hoc legislative workshop -- and instead, the trio (referred to by some as the Senate Glam Squad and others as Dominique's Angels) were pulling up to the Ecliptic Club instead. Still upscale, still secure, the Ecliptic Club was much more identifiably nightlife. She could hear the thumping of the bass from here. It shook the glass of the towncar speeder they shared.
The nightclub was just this side of the border of Theed's Senate district, and it occupied the upper levels of an older observatory theater build during one of Naboo's more self-important architectural periods that scholars pompously called late romantic. Its original dual purpose was scientific and ceremonial: a domed hall for stellar observations, planetary alignments, lectures, orchestral performances, and extremely expensive receptions.
Now it was one of Theed's most exclusive after-hours venues. It was a place where Senators could mingle with their colleagues, well-heeled military officers out on the town, the wild children of the Great Houses aristocracy, wealthy patrons, the artistic set. An eclectic melting pot unified by month, proximity to power, alcohol, and a faint -- and theoretically reversible -- sense of tinnitus by the end of the night.
The aesthetic was peak Naboo celestial decadence, featuring dark polished stone, bronze-gold inlay, blue-black walls, star-map ceilings, water light reflected through tall arched windows, and a slowly turning mechanical orrery suspended over the central dance floor. And of course there were bars and booths and dark corners for doing dark deeds. Just because Senators attended didn't mean it was any less a nightclub, after all.
The car finally arrived to the entrance and the doorman opened the doors. Verity was first out, and she discreetly smoothed her dark blue coat before mounting the short staircase toward the entrance, bypassing the queue behind the velvet ropes to speak to the doorman directly. "Stuyveris, Pallopides, and Vexx," she said, glancing over her shoulder as the others should be emerging from the rear of the car. "Yes, that Vexx. My office called ahead."
"Of course, Senator," said the doorman. "This way."
Once inside, Verity shucked her coat and handed it to the coat-check staff, revealing a beautiful midnight dress, replete with subtle gold detailing. It was off one shoulder, with a sheer panel down the opposite arm, and slit to the thigh, which was rather daring for her, though of course it paled in comparison to anything Ayumi could sport. Verity's golden hair was pinned into an elegant twist.
When the others had made it in and handed over their coats, Verity turned to them. "Now -- drinks first, or dancing? We've got bottle service and a booth so we have somewhere to sit if we get tired."
