10pm Friday, June 26, 2009
Diagon Alley
Spellpunk

It was Black Hearts Black Lights Night at Spellpunk and Figaro hadda hadda hadda get out and be there.  He had been working round the clock at his parents' Apothecary to try and get it opened up again.  It was probably the most boring summer in living memory.  Not only was he working all the time, but most of the people he knew were already starting their careers (like Fauna and Dion in the Auror Corps) or cavorting merrily merrily around Egypt on a bloody awesome adventure he was missing out on.

There's just only so much fun to be had with his know-it-all little brother Frank who lately couldn't shut up about going to Hogwarts in the Fall and the announced TetraWizard Tournament.  Sure, Figaro was excited, but he couldn't even think about school again until he finally partied his face off.

And Spellpunk was just the place to party some faces.

He had plans to meet up with a few mates later that night, but as social as Figaro was, he didn't much care about showing up alone - there'd be plenty to get up to. 

In honor of Black Light Night, Fig was able to sneak out the house in just a white tank top and a white stocking cap that said ASSHOLE on it.  He'd glow like a purple-y white beacon. 

He travelled to the Leaky Cauldron, and then into Diagon Ally, a bunch of silver in his pocket and his wand in hand.  Strutting down the cobbled pavement he grinned at the adults who walked by who took a double-take look at his obnoxious hat.  Soon he saw the queue outside the tiny little Spellpunk storefront.  Inside was just an elevator and a spiral staircase - underground was all the action was.

Instead of just getting in line as a normal person would do, Figaro began walking up the line, hoping to find a familiar face who would let him budge in. 

First night back in town and as usual, Spellpunks didn't disappoint. Entering the club Envy could already tell by the bass-heavy music spilling out it was going to be a good night. The party had barely even begun and already the room was packed wall to wall with some exciting new faces. A few heads turned her way as she made her way across, some for her looks and others simply out of recognition. A few younger students gawked, making her giggle as she realized why. Her face was plastered on posters all over town, as it had been for the last couple of months since she and Azaleus had started taking their little half-formed soul punk operation around the surrounding areas. She supposed the relatively few, though well-received, concerts they had done had turned them into a pair of mini, local celebrities amongst the underclassmen. She giggled at the thought, her multitude of piercings flashing in the strobe lights.
Even in the sea of punk rock geeks and garage band kids she stuck out. As one of the few kids dressed in all black (she hadn't gotten the memo about the dress code), she was nearly invisible under the lights in her tiny black cutout dress, goggles and leather. The shaved section of her hair was bleached white tonight, the purplish glow from it immediately drawing attention to her doll-like features. She pushed and shoved her way through the crowd (being small and delicate-looking she got away with this kind of thing easily) and made her way over to the  leather couch nearest to the stage.

What in the name of Merlin's swollen left ankle was he doing here?

Clubs were not Kirby Krause's usual idea of fun, but he simply needed to get out of the house on this particular night. Greg, his stepfather, had sat him down for a talk. There had been a long silence, and Kirby had thought he was in trouble for something, until Greg finally blurted out, "Are you gay? It's alright if you're gay, Kirby, your mother and I will love you no matter what." He knew his stepfather's heart was in the right place, that he just wanted the teenager to know it was alright to be himself. However, there was a problem: Kirby wasn't gay, and he felt that Greg's question was prompted by his less-than-macho personality. The elder of the two was your stereotypical man: a loud, lager-drinking sports fanatic. All these traits were subverted in Kirby, who was a sensitive, reserved young man with artistic aspirations. It was times like these when he would wonder if Greg was actually from this century. Besides, shouldn't he have waited until his stepson revealed that information on his own?

Kirby's eyebrows furrowed in exasperation as he rose from the plush den chair. "I'm not gay, Greg," he informed his stepfather firmly, stalking toward the fireplace and taking some Floo Powder from the jar on the mantle. His mind raced, trying to think of somewhere to go, until he remembered a flyer he saw while working on his mural in Diagon Alley. "I'm going to Spellpunk."

And with that, he stepped into the fireplace and disappeared, all while Greg was attempting to apologise. Ultimately, he resolved to let the boy go cool off. Kirby was a good kid, and Greg knew that although he was annoyed, he wouldn't get into any trouble.

Right?

But, as Kirby arrived gracefully at Diagon Alley, across the way from the nightclub, the situation hit him. He was going clubbing. How does one "club"? He had no idea, and before now he had never even considered it. Noticing someone out of line- a classmate of his, actually, with a... colourful hat- he approached and asked, "Um, hi. This is Spellpunk, yeah? How much is it to get in?"

Regarding the boy's choice of dress, he wondered if what he was wearing was acceptable. It was a normal outfit for the redhead, but these were not normal circumstances. It was extremely rare for him to make split-second decisions, and now that he had, he hadn't the foggiest how to go through with it. The towering boy had to look down at his trainers in an attempt to ground himself.

Merlin, Krause, what have you gotten yourself into?

Thirteen days of freedom hadn't been much fun at all for the littlest Flickwick; what with her sisters traveling the world and her father being on tour. The house felt big and empty and lonely - she'd wanted her whole life to be an only child and now that she was she wanted the loud and crazy back. Of course that was pretty typical of Sophie, the wanting what she wanted until she got it and realized it wasn't at all what she thought it would be. So what did she do? She decided to sneak out and have an adventure of her own. She probably wouldn't have had to sneak out really; but the sneaking out made it more fun, it gave an extra edge to the air of danger she was toying with... in her ballet flats and braces[1], right dangerous.

Still, through the L.C. and down Diagon Alley until she was standing in front of the club. She hadn't made proper plans to meet up with anyone but she had mentioned to a couple people she'd be headed down there. Of course pickings were slim between the graduates who had jobs and everyone who traipsed off to Egypt. She just didn't realize how slim until she got to the line and saw Sellaphix and...Kirby? Never in her life had she seen a more unlikely duo; except maybe Sasha and Fergie. No, even they made more sense than the biggest jackass on the planet and the most soft spoken Ravenclaw she'd ever met. This level of weirdness probably required a DoM investigation; but as no Unspeakable could be seen she decided to check it out for herself.

Inching closer she couldn't help but hear the tail end of Kirby's comment and bit back and grin before pouncing on the poor unsuspecting redhead. It had been awhile since she full fledged latched herself to another person like a Monkey-Starfish and she wasn't completely sure that the slender Ravenclaw could hold them both upright. This did not detour her from placing a loud kiss on his cheek (casting a sneaky sidelong glance at her former boyfriend along the way), as she squeezed Kirby her voice carried over the din of the line, "That all depends on who you know and how long you're willing to stand in line Mr. Krause," she cast a look to Fig and snorted, "Appropriate advertising".

Glancing at the door as she unwound herself from her newly acquired redheaded companion she glanced toward the surprisingly lengthy line, "Normally Friday's about a seventeen sickle night but my friend's working the door tonight," stuffing her hands in her pockets she stood on her tiptoes and nodded her head toward a rather lean though not all together friendly looking bloke standing in front of the rope. "I can get us," (shocking how fast it became us, wasn't it) "through the door without bothering with the line for a couple galleons," there were perks to having a father that played club music and made friends with bouncers and venue owners. Linking her arm with Kirby's she tugged him toward the front of the line before turning back to Figaro, "Come on then Asshole, I've got dancing to do".

1.	UK term for suspenders

from here

The girl Hexy[1] stood in line, a rather stiff figure compared to the slouching, galomping teenagers around her. Even with different clothes and a different persona, posture was something not as easily shrugged off. Though Hexy did appear taller than the stooped Casey by just an inch or so.

The plan was repeated internally again and again. Bribe your way in, request a meeting with the manager Aidan Cuween, lay has many Galleons on him as it took to gather all the information he knew about Ventus Shang, then exit. For emergencies, enter the bathroom and call for Dingy when the coast was clear. Hexy kept her breathing steady, eyes focused ahead on the shrinking line. A simple mission.

Her eyes noticed some boys off to the side. Oh no, characters from school. Figaro Sellaphix, Kirby Krause. Relax, don't betray your intent. This is the kind of thing you need to recognize as you train to be an Occlumens. Control your emotions.

Luckily, (or maybe this was worse as an actual girl was present) Sophie Flickwick joined them. Hexy overheard snippets of the conversation. "I can get us through the door without bothering with the line for a couple galleons." Clearly bribery was not uncommon at this club. The amount of money carried in Hexy's wallet could buy out the club, potentially. Perhaps whenever Casey wanted to play the real estate game.

Hexy shadowed after the trio (salazar's shiny pate Figaro was wearing the most stupid hat) confident that another generous sum into the bouncers' pockets would allow her in with no problems. Time to see if this disguise worked.

1.	Hexy Level: Green

"Kirby!"

Wicked, someone he knew.  Fig latched on without hesitation.

"You lookin' to budge as well?  It's easy. We'll just slip in behind a big fella or older girls in heels.  Done it before," he started in, completely at ease around a familiar face.  He knew that Kirby was one of the quiet ones in their year, but that just meant he got to do most of the talking.  Eager as he was, crowded as the street was, he didn't see Sophie approach.

He rolled his eyes.  Figaro couldn't figure out how to feel about Sophie.  On one hand, she was a little terrifying.  On another, he had loved kissing her with tongue.  On yet another, she was insane and he hated her.  And on another, her mom had been torn apart by a werewolf.  So how was he supposed to feel when she came out of nowhere and started climbing all over Kirby and sucking on his face?

Disgusted. And sorry for Kirby.  And jealous of Kirby.  How come quiet guys got the attention, huh?  "Alright, Flickwick?" he greeted plainly.  At least she could get them in.  Sooner the better.

He was almost offended when he called him an asshole, but then remembered his hat and couldn't help but laugh.  The hat was badass.  It just took that little thing to snap Figaro out of his confusion about Sophie - she was alright.

With that, Figaro mimed a purse over his shoulder, linked his arm to Kirby's and mimicked Sophie's accent.

"Yea, screw boys! Let's just dance!"

Kirby quirked an eyebrow at Figaro's suggestion on slipping into the club. At 6'2", he normally stood well above everyone else (even with his slouch), and his red hair made him stand out like a beacon. Besides, he wasn't interested in going in without paying, though the Hufflepuff seemed quite keen on the idea.

All at once, his reedy legs were forced to bend as someone leapt on him. The poor boy hardly had time to regain his bearings when he felt a kiss on his cheek, and discovered his assailant was none other than bubbly Gryffindor Sophie Flickwick. He would have blushed at the unexpected display of affection if he wasn't so confused- sure, he knew Sophie, but were they really at a point where cheek kisses were an acceptable greeting? When do you reach that point? Maybe it was a family thing or something...

But Kirby was ripped from his bewildered pondering, finding himself being led toward the front of the line. Everything had happened so quickly- having his sexuality questioned, Flooing off to a nightclub, being affectionately assaulted, and now getting tugged along by two of his yearmates, who were both significantly shorter than him. He remained quiet through it all, silenced by confusion. The uncertainty he felt must have shown in his eyes as he peered down at Sophie and asked, "How do you know that guy?" The bouncer didn't look like company a girl like Sophie would keep, though a lot of strange things were happening tonight.

It was all very insane... and it had only just begun.

"Tcha, boys are so dumb Figarella," Sophie couldn't help but laugh at the Hufflepuff; in that moment she remembered all the things she liked about him and all the things that drove her completely batty seemed to fade just a little. His sense of humor had always been her favorite thing - except when she didn't agree with what he thought was amusing (ie making up a song about Fauna being a Werewolf). With the three of them in a line with arms linked she felt the urge to start skipping like she'd seen in that muggle movie Ruby liked so much about a Wizard (who was not really a wizard at all) named Oz. She refrained however because skipping in front of a place like Spellpunk just seemed like the least cool thing you could possibly do.

Glancing up at Kirby she gave him a bemused smile at his question, "Maxxy? I've known him forever. Before he started working the door here he did security for a lot of venues my da played with Mandrake Siren. He's totally harmless," of course objectively she could see how lean but muscular man with a deeply etched scowl could seem less than friendly - and he probably wouldn't want a poppet the size of a tea cup calling him harmless either. She supposed he actually wasn't to anyone who got too rowdy...so Fig was probably in trouble. "Max! Hiiiii," she drug the syllabl out on the i for as long as possible before unlinking herself from the boys and standing on her tiptoes to reach the man's ear to which he obliged by hunching down a bit followed by a laugh.

Seemingly all clear Sophie motioned for the Odd Couple to follow her through the door only to be caught and pulled back by the braces, "Not so fast Monkey, boomed the doorman (though not entirely without amusement - he did call her Monkey after all) "Mer will have my arse if I let you in without a stamp again; not to mention your Pops and Nan. I don't need that kind of shite tonight mate".

Sophie at least had the good nature to look sheepish as she held out her hand and motioned for the boys to do the same, "You can't blame a girl for trying Maxxy". After the three were properly marked red (as in DO NOT give these hooligans booze red) Sophie lead them through the storefront and piled into the iron wrought lift with three other strangers in various bright colors and painted faces.  Tossing a look to Fig she grinned, "It's a Friday night, be ready to throw some elbows if we want near the stage," of course she couldn't be totally sure that he heard her as the loud music soon over took the small space and the lift doors open to a sea of faces.

Sophie had to stand on her tiptoes to even see the stage, and found herself muttering, "I hate being a midget". Then a little louder, barely over the bass of the music she yelled, "Hey Kirby lemme on your shoulders," though she was only teasing. Jostling their way through the crowd the tiny Gryffindor tried to search out familiar faces. Even though the club had only been open since New Year's Eve it was already massively popular and tales of it's epicness had spread through the halls of Hogwarts. Everyone who was still in town seemed to be there; even one of the most interesting of the Hogwartian faces. Noting the distinctive looking Ravenclaw Sophie elbow'd Fig, though her face tilted up toward Kirby, voice rising above the music, "Hey, I think I just spotted V Katakura".

She gestured toward the couches before taking each boy by the arm and tugging them in that general direction, voice booming as they drew closer to the girl, "Yo, Envy! You playing tonight"?

The smell of the underground, mixed with the energy and sweat of a hundred people; the pulse of the music between thick walls, rattling bones and hearts; the bright lights, garish effects, and lavish drinks that popped against the tongue...

Clearly, it had been far too long. Eha was already deep in the revelry of her own imagination, and she hadn't even gotten into the club yet. She'd been moved into her little flat in North London for a wee bit under a month now, and this was the first chance she'd had since then to go out and live a little. Sure, there'd been the Ministry Mixer last week, but that was so...formal, so work-focused, you couldn't have real fun in that atmosphere.

Besides, her father had been there, and he wouldn't have approved of her outfit, nor of the fact that she'd gotten her cartilage pierced at an Italian shop as a personal graduation present, nor of the streaks she'd magically added to her hair, which matched her shirt.

Eha leaned against the wall as she neared the entrance and toyed with the clasp on her gloves. She'd heard that this club was big with the under-25-crowd, but tonight it seemed to be crawling with Hogwarts students, home for the summer. Why, there was a group in front of her, a small herd all talking and laughing and letting each other cut in a way that made Eha a little wistful. Originating half a world away from her schoolmates, she'd spent a night out with friends only once during her whole school career, and she barely remembered it thanks to some numbskull having the bright idea to spike her drink with magic-fortified vodka.

But there was something else that caught her eye too - the girl directly in front of her, who'd slipped into line with the student group but didn't seem interested in joining them. She had red-brown hair, looked barely old enough to get in, and wasn't acting like someone who was about to have a good time. Eha had gotten decent at reading body language during her first Durmstrang year, when she hadn't absorbed enough Russian, and she could tell by the tension in the girl's shoulders that she was nervous. Perhaps she was sneaking in? Or maybe she was only scared of entering the club without any friends. Hm...

Eha wanted to say something, but before she could, they reached the lift, and before she knew it, the group of Hogwarts students had passed by the bouncer and it was the brown-haired girl's turn.

Entering the club with the exchange of a handful of gold and a getting stamped with a red mark was easy. Trying similar tactics to meet the manager was hard. For all the underground informants and rumor gatherers that wouldn't take interest in a kid no matter how much gold was offered, Aidan Cuween was the most unreachable. Pestering the staff only got responses like "don't bother Mr. Cuween unless you have a legitimate complaint" or "mind your own business girly" or such of that nature. Hexy was frustrated by the lack of progress.

That was not including nearly chickening out in line. What had been a simple twist to adjust her hair, the magically secured wig itching and poking her, brought Hexy face to face with the woman behind her. Looked to be a graduate year if not already finished with schooling. She had this piercing look and...gloves? A rather militaristic stance but she was young for an auror. Was she MLE? Salazar's Shiny Pate, the night just kept getting better.

"W-What do you want?" Hexy began, before bumping into the doorman, who also eyed her. Several times the normal entry fee at least satiated his curiosity. Instead of the lift Hexy skipped to the stairs, heart tumbling along with her as she raced away from peering eyes. Once in the club the mission could be best defined as being kicked into an active volcano on the back of a bouncing bulb, with the aforementioned lack of help from the staff members inside.

And just what was up with this place? Hexy shuffled through the crowd gazing at the unusual ferly. These lights, what was the magic on them? She realized her shirts had become a garish mixture of lime green, pink and orange. Everyone’s teeth had an unnatural sheen, their eyes shiny black beads. Each surface radiated light from what looked to be badly cast color changing spells.

Confused and utterly dazed, Hexy crashed onto a sofa near stage. Then, when remembering that leather was an allergen, scrunched up by hugging her legs and leaning forward less any inch of exposed skin touch the leather cushions.

(Thank you! Much appreciated  )

Envy looked up in confusion, searching for the owner of the unfamiliar voice. The large, bubble-shaped goggles she'd pulled down over her eyes bathed everything in a sea of red, and the fact that they sometimes turned opaque during certain light changes didn't help much either.
"Um..." She said, quite eloquently, before realizing where the sound was coming from. She quickly pushed the goggles back atop her head, smoothing back her spiky bangs. Her thick, black eyebrows stood out in stark contrast against the almost vampiricly pale skin, dramatizing every expression. They furrowed together for a second as she took in the odd group. She was sure she knew who the girl who was talking to her so familiarly was, however the name escaped her. The tall redhead looked like he was looking for an escape and the other boy appeared to have just thrown on some underwear and a tacky hat in an attempt to fit in. She tried to think of how she knew them then realized she was being rude.
"Oh hi there!" She said quickly and cheerfully, the wrinkles in her brow smoothing out and her face splitting into a wide grin. "No, not tonight I'm afraid Me and Azaleus decided to take a little hiatus until we found a more permanent line-up. How ever my favorite dj was playing tonight, couldn't miss it."
She nodded towards DJ Sephiroth, who inclined his head in her direction. Turning back towards Sophie, she was startled for a moment as a very small, nervous-looking girl collapsed on the seat next to her, hugging her legs to her chest as though scared to touch the leather seats.
"Hello hello." Envy remarked casually to this new arrival and handed her glass of ginger beer. "Looks like someone could use a little drink.
 She glanced back up at the mismatched entourage founding around her, then patted the seats next to her.
"Go ahead, sit, drink, be merry." She hoped that after a couple minutes of faking her way through the conversation she'd be able to remember who exactly this tiny, wide-eyed girl was.

Figaro was well impressed with Sophie's finagling of the bouncer.  Sure, they got stamped but there were ways around that - he'd get them something more tasty with a bit of effort.  But yea - in for free, no queues.  Thank Merlin for spoiled little rich girls and hulking gingers.  Best friends forever!

When they came upon one of the wierder girls in their year, perhaps someone who enjoyed attention almost as much as he, Fig nodded a hello.  "Looking fit, Envy!" he said, and quickly taking her invitation to sit down.

Figaro might have been a late bloomer. Not yet filled out, still one growth spurt down many of his peers.  Might have been a little late giving a crap about girls, but since last year he'd been catching up.  And there was something about the un-have-able, in-a-band-that-can-actually-play Envy Katakura that made Figaro kind of an idiot around her.   

He was probably sitting too close, considering they weren't friends and they almost never talked.  In the black-lit room everything was glowing and strobing and just a little too loud.  Best. Club. Ever.  All his cares about family life and knowing his grades were on the way by owl post - all gone. 

"I wanna get pissed!" he declared suddenly.  "Who's in?"

Entering the club was like walking into a solid wall of sound. Music blared, lights strobed, and blacklights illuminated the white stripes on his t-shirt. He could hear Sophie talking over the buzzing, but he was finding it hard to listen. There was just so much going on that the boy had no idea where to put his eyes. His large feet dragged along on the ground as he was being led toward a group of couches. Spotting Envy, one of his housemates, for himself, he attempted to yell a greeting over the thumping music, "Hello, Envy!"

When encouraged to take a seat, Kirby sat down on a plush sofa across from his fellow Ravenclaw. His head tilted in concern, eyebrows furrowing as he regarded the balled up girl next to her. The skinny Ravenclaw had just opened his mouth to ask the younger girl if she was alright when he was interrupted by Figaro: "I wanna get pissed! Who's in?" Suddenly, before Kirby's eyes flashed the likely outcome of him staggering back to his mother and stepfather's home drunk:

His mother would screech, "Kirby Edward, what is the matter with you?! You could have gotten hurt or mugged or taken advantage of- not to mention it's illegal!" Meanwhile, Greg would be more lax, trying to persaude her that "He was just having a little fun, kids will be kids, Sara", to which his wife would snap, "Not if they're DEAD!!" She would then go on about the things she's seen as a St. Mungo's Mediwitch- "Too much, Greg!"- and take away his paints and canvases. Alison, his stepsister, would no doubt be in the background snickering, until ordered up to her room. She would go, reluctantly, but not without whispering to Kirby, "Didn't know ya had it in ya, Krause." And to top it all off, he would probably be grounded for the rest of the summer.

So, to Figaro's question, Kirby could only reply, "No... thanks."

Poor Kirby looked like he might have a seizure at any given moment. It was a lot to take in, even if you'd grown up around shows and a lot of drunk people. It wasn't until she went off to Hogwarts that Sophie had any kind of understanding as to how strange her childhood had been. Musicians trailed in and out of the Flickwick house constantly, the studio in the basement was always busy and happened to be where most of her early memories took place. Then she'd gone off to school and learned that not everyone could sleep through a 2 A.M. jam session or knew Myron Wagtail personally.

From the little bit she'd interacted with Kirby it was really no wonder it looked like his eyes might pop out his head; Spellpunk was a lot to take in. Throwing a look to the DJ at Envy's inclination she grinned a little before turning back to her, "If you're serious about permanent talent you should hit up Tilly at Reducto Records. It seems to be a hive for starving artists. At the very least she'll let you put up audition fliers," that was Sophie - ever helpful even if people weren't really looking for it, also always volunteering other people to be helpful without their knowledge (sort of the way she'd signed Mandrake Siren up to play Valentine's Day without asking her father first a few months prior).

She tried not to make a face at Fig going a bit buggy eyed over Envy. Sophie was emphatically not jealous. At. All. No. When he pipped up about getting drunk she smirked at him a little. He was after liquid courage which meant he was going to be hilarious all night because Fig's idea of flirting was "Nice jumper, I like what's under it". Of course having never had boys take remote interest in her at all that line had actually worked on Sophie; which meant Fig might have an inflated sense of it's value. A girl like Envy would eat him alive if he even tried.

As the only one still standing she sort of bobbed in place and looked between the two boys, lips jokingly pouting, "What happened to dancing then? I've got couches and an unguarded liquor cabinet at home if I wanted to sit on my arse getting wasted"!

As soon as she saw someone from her own house, recognition struck Envy like a blunt instrument.
"Hey Kirby!" She yelled over the music. The poor guy looked scared to death. She caught his eye and flashed him her now famously cat like smile, hoping he'd take the hint to relax. She'd always rather liked Kirby.  He was a bit awkward but she had to respect a fellow artist.
The other boy, however, with the ridiculous hat, was sitting just a bit to close for her liking. She merely blinked at his suggestion, not entirely sure what "getting pissed" meant until Sophie unknowingly explained it.
"I'm good too." She said, discreetly slipping her goggles down over her eyes and shifting positions just enough so that she was turned away from him. She hoped this weird little dude would take the hint that she wasn't interested and choose a new target before he ended up ruining her night.
The tip about Reducto Records earned Sophie a very impressed look. Envy decided she liked this helpful Gryffindor.
"Hey thanks." She told the girl appreciatively, slipping off her goggles as she stood up to dance. She handed them over to Sophie as she headed towards the floor.
"And you're right," She added over her shoulder. "We should dance."
Catching her fellow Ravenclaw completely off guard, she wrapped her fingers around Kirby's skinny arm and dragged him towards her with surprising strength for one her size. She winked at the other two, letting them know they didn't have a choice in the matter. As usual, Yuu Katakura had come to party.