[ While Korra feels like salt dissolving in water, Hei feels like a pillar of it. Frozen, almost mesmerized, by the shards of light, his skin silvered by it in a tangible layer of coolness. But Korra's words float into his ear -- words that are a flavor, tart with uncertainty. He squeezes her hand again, very aware of the weight of her little fingers in his. With effort, he elbows through the crowd. Heads for the quiet solitude of the VIP section. Spectral rays in rich jewel colours flash past the dancefloor, replaced by highly polished bronze staircases and walls that gleam and sparkle as the LEDs hit them. People in clothes of every possible hue drift by as Hei takes a sharp left in the tight maze of passages. ]
Hnn. [ It's all he can manage over the cacophony of colour and sound. At the VIP entrance, a girl in a devil costume -- red leather bustier and skin-tight pants -- checks IDs. She warns every man who walks by that if he's been bad, he'll have to visit her hot spot. Next to her is some guy dressed as a pimp; pink polyester suit with a retro cut, matching hat, orange patent leather stack-heel shoes with goldfish swimming in them, the whole nine. ]
Nice costume, [ Hei remarks, as he and Korra brush by. ]
What costume?
[ Shit. ] Never mind. [ They drift through a hallway with eerie staccato flares illuminating a grid pattern. In a secluded sitting room, Hei stumbles over a blonde in a shimmery silver catsuit, on her knees servicing some guy. He jerks on a strangled -- Argh!. Hei winces. ] Oops. [ The girl just laughs, her braces flashing in the strobe lights, and goes back to handling her business. Shaking his head, Hei reaches for one of the doors to the VIP rooms, and drags himself and Korra in. ]
no subject
Hnn. [ It's all he can manage over the cacophony of colour and sound. At the VIP entrance, a girl in a devil costume -- red leather bustier and skin-tight pants -- checks IDs. She warns every man who walks by that if he's been bad, he'll have to visit her hot spot. Next to her is some guy dressed as a pimp; pink polyester suit with a retro cut, matching hat, orange patent leather stack-heel shoes with goldfish swimming in them, the whole nine. ]
Nice costume, [ Hei remarks, as he and Korra brush by. ]
What costume?
[ Shit. ] Never mind. [ They drift through a hallway with eerie staccato flares illuminating a grid pattern. In a secluded sitting room, Hei stumbles over a blonde in a shimmery silver catsuit, on her knees servicing some guy. He jerks on a strangled -- Argh!. Hei winces. ] Oops. [ The girl just laughs, her braces flashing in the strobe lights, and goes back to handling her business. Shaking his head, Hei reaches for one of the doors to the VIP rooms, and drags himself and Korra in. ]