Playing in the thorns. {Invite}

Calm, soft ambient music played through wireless earphones as Elliot walked down the street. The streetlights were soaking the otherwise black pavement with their light. His head gently bobbed in tune with the music, the lyrics fading into the background. He had his hands in his black jeans and stared down at his black boots. Pausing, Elliot reached into his pocket and took out his phone to check the time. "23:45pm." He smiled. It should be picking up by now.

He cut through an allyway, drenching himself in darkness, ignoring the people with their begging eyes, lying on the floor. When he emerged on the otherside, the orange light spilling over him again, he saw it. It stood out like a lighthouse to the lonely and bored. It wasn't just the tallest building for about 3 blocks, but the most enthralling too. While all the others were simply black or made of stone, it was made of screens which flickered and slithered with black and red floral patterns. Along the top of it, in neon cursive was it's name - The Thorn. Apparently it came out of nowhere but took off immediately, gaining a reputation as one of the best nightclubs in the city within weeks. Elliot had been a few times and everytime had been incredible. It made you feel like the centre of the universe in a room filled with faceless people. It had the best DJs, the best drinks and the best prices.

He'd gotten here before the larger groups so it didn't take him long to get in. They recognised him from the last few times so didn't ID him. Opening his wallet he paid the $10 entry and in Polish, thanked the pretty girl who stamped his hand. He'd thanked her in spanish the last time, and korean before that - this time she noticed and gave him a curious smile. He winked at her as he walked past her, entering a long hallway. The carpets were a deep blood red. The walls made of black mirrors. He plucked the earphones from his ears, the gentle music coming from them was immediately laid to rest by the DJs rhythmic chorus. The music moved through the building like a force of nature. It felt like your heart beat in tune to it. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

When he reached the end of the hallway, it opened into a glass balcony. From here you had three choices. You could stay here on the entry level, know as The Stem, sit at the balcony and look down on the beautiful carnage. There was a bar on this level too so it's not like you'd be thirsty. Or, you could go up the spiral staircase to the cocktail bar, known as The Blossom. The music was softer up there and the drinks were more complicated and expensive but it was a relaxing change of pace. Or you could descend, into The Thorns. A sprawling dancefloor with a bar that stretched it's entire length. The DJ was most powerful down there. The drinks felt stronger, shots were taken like breaths and it's where everyone's inner beast seemed to come to the surface. Elliot leaned against the railing, looking down. It wasn't busy enough to go down there just yet. He looked at the staircase and walked along the glass floor towards it. The floor was fitted with holographic plates beneath the glass so everywhere you walked on this floor, 2D black flowers bloomed beneath your feet before they faded back into clear glass.

The upper level had more people in it than normal. He approached the bar and smiled at the man behind it, who recognised him too - maybe he was coming to this place too much. He leaned his forearms on the bar and patiently waited to be served. He needed to make more friends. It's why he'd been coming here alone. Everytime he met new people, they ended up getting too drunk together to share contact details before they parted ways. He needed to stop doing that but something about this place just made him thirsty...

He looked over his shoulder and scanned the bar for anyone different. Looks like he wasn't the only one going here too often, because he regonised atleast 60% of the people in the room - one of them even waved. Apparently Drunk Elliot had made some friends last time.

He needed someone new to cut his teeth on. Someone fun.
His eyes briefly lit up.
Someone... like... that.

Damian loved New York.

So he decided to actually experience it. Not as Atlas of course but just the fun loving person behind the less than covering mask. Even when the sun set, there was a certain vibrant energy that pulsed through the streets like electricity.  People still moving about despite the words that dripped from their lips like venom. His handler suggested he not get into any trouble, but just seeing what all the nightlife was about didn’t seem like trouble to him. Just an excuse to get to know the people that called the city he protected home. There were a few ways to do that actually, though he ended up choosing a way that felt almost random in a sense. A nightclub had shot up in popularity within the span of weeks. The Thorn as represented by images on his phone.

Each step he took down the sidewalk reverberated through his ears, people walking past the male swaying almost in his steps. Despite what negative things he heard about nightclubs, there was little to fear for him. Afterall, not like he had to worry about mundane drugs affecting him should the desire to buy a drink came up. Unless someone made a specific Atlas roofie, then he would have been in trouble. After half an hour of deliberation, Damian had picked out what he called proper nightclub attire. This came down to a pair of fine jeans, shoes and a dark blue button up shirt. A waste of time as he had decided in hindsight, but he was trying to be a little fashion conscious. Just enough to get in, maybe even draw a few eyes as someone with even a small amount of ego would want to do.

Stepping up to the entry, he smiled sweetly to the nice girl at the entrance and removed a crisp ten dollar bill. There was the briefest look of recognition, but nothing beyond that as he stepped through into the club itself. A sudden deluge of sound that hit his senses like a freight train. Pulsing beats, and the scent of sweat mixed with alcohol. Super senses tended to be a bitch in these kinds of scenarios, but he had already decided he would try to enjoy the night. That just happened to mean ignoring his overpowering senses.

Mismatched eyes quickly scanned over the dancefloor, caught within a maelstrom of twisting bodies that each seemed to have their own ideas of what partying was. The bar spanned the dancefloor itself like a coiled serpent, leaving many open places where one could approach and order their dose of poison. Money and alcohol exchanging hands in equal measure in a flow that seemed almost mystical. He was so engrossed in the spectacle that he barely noticed the blooming 2D flowers that bloomed with each step as he ascended the step.

Better to get an higher view of the clubfloor.

More people were up here, drinking and socializing in that fashion they did. Unfortunately that was when he realized he might have seemed out of place. This awkward 6’2 handsome type that just didn’t know what he was even doing. Being able to destroy the building with a small indiscretion probably didn’t make the sensation any better honestly. A sudden self awareness that almost made him want to leave, and yet he approached the bar, resting an elbow on it much like he saw one of the patrons do only moments ago. Absently, fingers pushed strands of bangs away from his forehead while he scanned the smaller area. Despite what most media painted this place as, he could tell it was good for social interaction. So maybe trying to talk with someone would have been a good idea.

He felt eyes on himself, though that was about it. Damian looked around in time to note someone looking at him with an expression he couldn’t quite place. Instead of getting disquieted he offered a friendly expression, he looked down to the brightly colored drink he apparently ordered and sipped at it.

Elliot didn't take his eyes off the new comer. They just traced his steps as he hesitated and stuttered his way to the bar. The figure noticed him staring - which didn't stop him - and gave him a quick smile. As the bartender came back to him, Elliot turned to order his drink only to find it was sitting infront of him. God, he was becoming a regular. A translucent pink drink in an obtuse wine glass, with several raspberries floating in it. Pink gin. He smiled and gave the bartender his money and a tip, who simply winked in response. Bringing the drink to his mouth, he inhaled quietly before sipping it. His blue eyes slowly moved over to the new comer again before he lowered the glass back down to the bar.

He felt a slight tremor in his hand. Was he nervous? Why? He'd approached dozens of people in the past. Maybe it was just something about this one in particular. He continued to stare. Was it impolite? Probably. A bit creepy even? Definitely. But Elliot didn't care. He just kept a smile on his face and brought the glass to his lips again. He'd need to open with something charismatic. And funny. Or clever! All three? He wasn't bad looking either. Maybe something flirtatious? You're over thinking this. He took another sip before he slid onto his feet.

He took the three or four steps to cover the distance, in time with the slightly muffled beat which leaked the room, and sat in the stool beside the new face. He wet his lips and smiled again. "Hi. I'm Elliot' his vision quickly flickered up and down the man's figure 'I've haven't seen you in here before and honestly, you look a little out of your element - what's your name?" Smiling, he looked up to his face with the icy blue of his eyes lining up with the man's own. "Cool! My 7th grade teacher had that too." He motioned to the man's heterochromatic eyes and brought his drink to his lips again.

Damian tried the drink and almost immediately regretted it despite downing the whole thing anyway.Bitter with some sweet undertones, though the latter was drowned out by the former. Even still he was aware out of his peripheral that someone was watching him. Considering the male as he drank his drink and tried to make it all go down, until just letting the rest of the fluid slide down his throat. The bartender was nice enough to offer another, that drink being accepted without him even offering the least resistance. Another small chink within his wallet, and likely no the last before he would walk out of this place. A small part of him wondered if there was something stronger here. There had been talks of booze that could affect the more resilient types, but he didn’t have the nerve to inquire.

Finally that seemingly friendly face from a few minutes ago gathered courage and took the seat beside him. Upon closer look, he could tell they were...cute. Handsome even if he wanted to sell the man short. Elliot was the name he could put with the face, Damian returning the quick look over as if silently accepting that as some form of greeting. Seemed someone had quickly ascertained he was very new to this kind of scene. ”I am new around here,” He admitted without shame, taking a few conservative sips from his drink. ”My names Damian. I heard a few things about this place, wanted to see what all the hype was about.” The internet was all up in arms about how great this place was, so he wasn’t lying there.

Then came the statement about his eyes. These strange mismatched orbs of hazel and light blue, always reminding someone of something. ”Well, at least it’s not a childhood dog this time. You’d be surprised how many times i’ve heard that.” He said with a light chuckle, finding it partially amusing and annoying in equal measures. ”So I guess you’re more of a regular around here?” He quickly asked conversationally while taking another drink.

"Well, I wouldn't call myself a regular but I didn't have to tell them what drink I wanted, so I guess I don't have a choice anymore." He chuckled a little, picking one of the gin soaked raspberries out of his glass and eating it. "But yeah, I've been here a few times. Six actually. And it's always lived up to the hype for me-' He paused briefly, swallowing the alcholic fruit. '-I think it's the music. Best DJ in the city." Elliot put his chin on one of his hands and watched Damian start plowing through another of his drinks. "You know how I can tell you don't do this alot? You're drinking cocktails like they're shots." He laughed. "Which, while impressive, is just a waste. If you want to drink like that, I know just the thing - I'll teach you." He swivelled in the chair and faced the bar, gently gesturing with two fingers that he needed service. The bartender came over quickly.

"Yeah, can I get four shots-' he extended four fingers on his other hand.

'Two tequila' - two of his fingers dropped into the fist 'one Brain Hemorrhage' another fell
'And one...' his lip curled 'Cum in the Water."
The Bartender's eyes rolled back to collect his memories before he nodded, rushing off to gather various liquors.

The bartender laid out 4 shooters. The two tequila were done very quickly, crystal clear liquid with a lemon wedge balanced ontop of each one. The other two shots took a little longer. In one, he put Vodka and a sweet, blue sour alcohol. In the other - peace schnapps and he put a thin layer of cream liquor over the top. He dropped grenadine into it, causing it to take the appearance of a leaking brain in a shot glass. Into the blue shot, he put a few drops of milk, making it live up to it's name 'Cum in the Water'.

Elliot handed the man a $20 and looked at his new friend before motioning to the shots. "We both get a tequila each but which of the fancy ones do you want?' Waiting for him to pick one, Elliot took the other. 'Remember, take the Tequila first and then the fancy one, to wash out the taste. Do you know how to shoot tequila?" His tone came across as a little patronizing.

He had just met this new person and was already enjoying himself. That came with meeting new personalities and all they could offer in a conversation. Honestly he almost lamented he couldn’t actually get intoxicated, but then again just the thought of a drunk him was more than enough to quell that thought. ”Well that makes it five times more than i’ve than me.” He said with what could be called a perpetual grin. As if he were just that friendly type of person that enjoyed conversation whenever it took form. It seemed like this little bout of social interaction was going pretty well, enough so that Damian could even say he felt confident about it. Learning that he was doing the drinking thing all wrong was somewhat of a surprise within itself, eyes looking down at his drink and then back to the male.

It made sense when he actually thought about it. He also had enough decency to look awkward when he realized that he made some manner of asocial faux paus. That lead to the male ordering four shots, one of which had pretty explicit name. Not that he should have been surprise considering one of the drinks was literally called Sex on The Beach. Honestly he couldn’t help smirking slightly when the male smiled at the name itself. Maybe that was just the joke the drink was trying to convey.

Four shots were settled before them, money changing hands and his eyes focusing on the more eccentric of the shot choices. He reached for one of the tequila shots and then through random choice picked the Cum in the water one. ”I actually don’t.” he admitted with a sheepish smile, scratching his cheek. ”I imagine you know how to. Mind giving me a few pointers.” He didn’t seem to respond to the patronizing tone, expecting that the guy knew somewhat how the whole thing worked. Instead just smiling and giving a little wink.

Elliot's face lit up a little bit more when his new friend revealed that they didn't know how to do it. "Okokokok, right' He set his fancy glass of gin down and swivelled around towards Damian. "It's one of the funner ones, right." Elliot reached across the bar and grabbed a black cube with had a single hole in the top of it. It was left out on the bar for this sheer purpose. "Give me your arm' he reached over and held Damian's arm out. 'and roll up your sleeve."

While Damian did this, Elliot sorted himself out - putting a line of salt in the middle of his forearm. He made the same line along Damian's when he exposed his. Setting the black salt shaker down again, he picked up his shot in one hand and held the lemon in his other. "Ok so, word of warning, this will taste like shit. And you usually only do this if it's bad tequila, but most places just do it out of tradition now' This was fun. He missed teaching people how to do this in bars and frat parties. 'So first, you lick the salt, then you take the shot and to top it off, you suck on the lemon. If you want a hint as to how bad tequila tastes, the taste of lemon is considered a pleasant alternative." He smiled again, wiggling the shot. "Ready? Three, two, one... go!"

He quickly licked the salt and slammed the shot, his face scrunching up. He muttered 'Kurwa' before he rested his elbows on the bartop, expression softening again and sucked on the lemon, holding it with a finger and thumb from each hand. He watched his new friend's face to see their reactions. Something about someone's first tequila squirm always made him laugh. He took the lemon out of his mouth after sucking it to a pulp and put it in the square trash hole carved into the bar. His hand slithered across the sleek black counter and he picked up his second shot, The Brain Hemorhage.

"You're doing great! This one should be much easier. I'm actually kind of relieved you took that one though, they don't taste the best, and kind of kicks you in the stomach, but you'll be fine!" He laughed again. He was confident that the person would be completely fine, but acting like they won't be is half the fun. He held up his beige and red creamy mixture. "No tricks this time, just take it all in one. You ready?"

Elliot did not know that he was trying to out drink a literal god.