Heavy bass lines vibrated through the club, bodies pressed against each other on the dance floor, fuelled by the music, alcohol and pheramones. Dilated pupils were worn by at least half the consumers. Twi'lek and zeltron dancers alike draped themselves over poles, and some over the laps of wealthy patrons who'd slipped a few hundred credits into their hands. The darker corners of the club hid away those who were simply incapable of keeping their hands off each other, though it was a risk, for being caught was a swift ticket out the door.
Propped up by the bar, in a pink dress and heels Simone was trying desperately to reach the bottom of her glass and escape the male who was attempting to woo her. He was talking to her, put the words were drowned out by the music. His hand was suddenly on her waist and he had managed to put his face between her mouth and her glass. He was releasing a rather large amount of pheromones too. Simone reacted instinctively, her knee coming up sharply between his legs and stepping back as he doubled over.
She bent down to his ear, a hand resting on his shoulder to steady herself as the room swayed slightly "I'm sorry," she slurred. She straightened up, swaying slightly and finished her drink, wiping the little that had escaped down her chin away. It was time to leave. She pushed or rather rebounded her way through the throng of people and headed for the exit. A step came out of nowhere and she lost her footing a frown forming on her face as the ground seemed to be rushing up to greet her, a rough hand caught her under arm to prevent catastrophic face-meets duracrete-incident. She looked up to see the bouncer shaking his head at her.
She put a finger to her lips, to tell him to be quiet and let him help her out the club door. She swayed dangerously feet moving like Bambi on ice to compensate for the movement, then she found her momentum, made it five paces up the walkway before the pavement rushed up to greet her again. The clutch bag in her hand skittered across the street as her hands shot out to catch herself. Knees and palms stinging from grazes, she ignored the looks of other patrons and sat on her backside, determining that her heel were the cause of her imbalance and starting to remove them.
So, Simone Denning was drunk, and sat on the walkway that supported Zeltros' top end nightclubs. Tomorrow she would cringe at the image, but right her and now, as far as she was concerned, the rest of the planet could go frak itself.
Propped up by the bar, in a pink dress and heels Simone was trying desperately to reach the bottom of her glass and escape the male who was attempting to woo her. He was talking to her, put the words were drowned out by the music. His hand was suddenly on her waist and he had managed to put his face between her mouth and her glass. He was releasing a rather large amount of pheromones too. Simone reacted instinctively, her knee coming up sharply between his legs and stepping back as he doubled over.
She bent down to his ear, a hand resting on his shoulder to steady herself as the room swayed slightly "I'm sorry," she slurred. She straightened up, swaying slightly and finished her drink, wiping the little that had escaped down her chin away. It was time to leave. She pushed or rather rebounded her way through the throng of people and headed for the exit. A step came out of nowhere and she lost her footing a frown forming on her face as the ground seemed to be rushing up to greet her, a rough hand caught her under arm to prevent catastrophic face-meets duracrete-incident. She looked up to see the bouncer shaking his head at her.
She put a finger to her lips, to tell him to be quiet and let him help her out the club door. She swayed dangerously feet moving like Bambi on ice to compensate for the movement, then she found her momentum, made it five paces up the walkway before the pavement rushed up to greet her again. The clutch bag in her hand skittered across the street as her hands shot out to catch herself. Knees and palms stinging from grazes, she ignored the looks of other patrons and sat on her backside, determining that her heel were the cause of her imbalance and starting to remove them.
So, Simone Denning was drunk, and sat on the walkway that supported Zeltros' top end nightclubs. Tomorrow she would cringe at the image, but right her and now, as far as she was concerned, the rest of the planet could go frak itself.
