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Found 2 results

  1. OOC thread for this thread. Salmon and Kid Kamehameha foil a spot of horrible human experimentation. @Kolohehonu
  2. GM March 18th, Saturday, 2017, 12.45AM The Teahouse, University Hill Music sizzled and pulsed in a steady, danceable beat, lights on the floor, walls and ceiling flashing and shifting in hues and frequencies calculated to avoid causing seizures in 98% of all epilepsy patients, casting the patrons dancing and relaxing in dizzying shades. Waiters and waitresses in mini versions of Edo period costumes skated through the blare, carrying trays and infectious smiles that had gone into overtime. Most of the patrons were students or faculty(or, in rare cases, both), forming and breaking cliques and clusters on the dizzying dance floor, laughing at each others' in-jokes as they sipped at the Teahouse's specialty teas. As usual in places like this, there were smiling men in button-up shirts that hid extensive tattoos. These were the only people allowed to serve alcohol in the Teahouse, which made their tables some of the most attractive spots in the club, the smiling men and their stock constantly ringed by happy, raucous crowds. Jun, Kimo's self-proclaimed best friend, was doing her darndest to get both of them into one of those crowds, pulling him along behind her by the hand. "Come on, Imo! They got the good stuff tonight! We gotta breeze if we want some!" Pausing so abruptly Kimo almost collided with her Jun looked earnestly into the junior's eyes "This is the koro of student life, Imo! If we miss out on this, we might as well be like the qikes waiting for Archetech to give 'em a handout! These nights are for living!" Meanwhile, a lanky Native kid slipped in through the back door, nodding and smiling at the bouncer before turning to nervously eye the floor. His backpack and tied-up long hair weren't exactly club standard, and Ishmael Redwater silently seethed at the need to physically change. But he kept resolutely calm, waving away one of the waiters who skated close with a menu and taking up an edge seat so he could watch more easily. It was happening tonight. Swallowing hard, Ishmael drummed his fingers on the table. Suddenly he wondered why he hadn't just waited outside and changed then. Gritting his teeth, Ishmael slumped into his chair, watching like a hawk, watching for his chance to be a hero...
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