Medboy
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Apr 2, 2003
- Posts
- 149
the Unreality Nighclub
OOC: Sorry if this post is a little long, I just wanted to establish the setting. This is a completely open roleplay, so jump in at any time. If you want a bit more information about the cyber-world this is taking place in, read this. Be as creative (or kinky) with your character's appearence as you want and do or add anything you see fit. But above all, JOIN THIS RP NOW OR I SHALL EAT YOUR SPLEEN!! Er... I mean HAVE FUN!!
A heavy, calloused hand came down on Meds' shoulder. "You. It's your turn." croaked a voice that sounded like sandpaper scaping through an aluminum pipe. Meds spun around to find a pair of sunken, olive-like eyes inches form his own. He took a step back to take in the massive form of a red skinned, ape-like creaturwho's only mission in life was to act as one of the countless bouncer-creatures patrolling all side of the Good Night Club. Meds looked around, a little puzzled. "But there are poeple ahead of me in line." The bouncer stared blankly, some drool dripped to the ground from his tusks. After a pause, he once again slapped his palm onto Med' shoulder and repeated "You. It's your turn."
Shrugging, Meds ducked under the velvet rope and made his way around the line of envious and resentful stares to the club entrence with the bouncer tailing uncomfortably close behind. Deep inside he mentally bit his thumb at them and chanted "I got in the clu-ub!" But wanting to avoid wasting precious time dealing with unessecary deathmatch challenges when he could be shaking his ass and doing pelvic thrusts to repetitive dance music, he resisted the urge to do this aloud.
Meds had always been proud of his appearence in the Unreality, but he (he refused to say "his avatar") was designed more for gaming then for socializing, sporting a muscled-yet-compact figure with angular features and skin black as onyx save for the crimson leopard spots that ran up his back and speckled across his temples and around his pointed ears and a head as hairless and smooth as his two icey blue eyes. His dress consisted of a pair of worn black leather pants, a white tank top and combat boots. And while he had received many admiring looks in the Melee Emporiums and other gaming facilities, he had not been sure how his appearence would be received in any night club, let alone the notorious Good Night Club.
All these worries melted away as he walked through the doorwary and found himself wading through a sea of the best avatars he had ever seen in his life, ranging from angelically beautiful to mind-twistingly bizarre to menacingly sexy. The filtered light, which had no apparent physical source but rather hung frozen in the air, instantaneously changed colour with every beat of the pulsing electronic music, which was loud enough to immerse yourself in a dance but not so loud as to drown out the users attempting to make ambient conversation around the bar area.
As he made his way to the bar where an NPC bartender took his order, Meds looked to the DJ manning a platform floating several feet above the dancers writhing and convulsing to the music. Whether it was the nine, chopstick fingered limbs or the floating eyeball the size of a bastketball for a head, that DJ's mere appearence seemed to radiate raw, unadulterated funk.
"Excuse me, do you mind?" Meds jumped as he realized the barotone voice had come from the incredibly fat, almost spherical in shape, purple cat sitting atop the bartop. He had assumed it was an NPC added for atmosphere and had absently been playing with it's puffy tail. He mumbled at apology to the cat as it turned back to a vine-pattern tatoos covering her green hued skin and flowers in her hair. Meds could count the number users he had seen using non-humanoid based avatars on one hand, and he had never seen one who had chosen to appear so... well fuzzy and cute.
He tried to hide his staring as the cat went on to the girl about how the government should literally burn vasts amounts of money, thereby tightening the ecomony and lessening inflation. The vine-girl let out a ditzy "Teehee" laugh and pretended to understand. As the cat took a drink from his beer, the vinegirl stared in awe as the obese feline user extended an impossibly long, smooth tongue that quickly lapped up the remainder of the mug's contents and flicked it's rounded tip around the egdes for any alcoholic remains that may have escaped him. He gave her a wink and beckoned her forward to whisper something in her ear. She flushed, picked him up and quickly pushed her way over to one of the "Champagne rooms", which lined the walls and gave users a place for "intimate interaction" (although this was just a suggested place, as Meds judged from the young male giving oral pleasure to an intimidating leather-clad woman in the corner, whom he had been plotiely ignoring).
Meds stared after the feline and companion, and couldnt decide whether he should be amused or petrified. Regardless, he was giggling mischeviously into his palm. Enough watching, he decided. He downed his drink, which burned his throat inspite his having turned all pain receptors off, and grooved his way out to the dance floor to get his socialize on.
OOC: Sorry if this post is a little long, I just wanted to establish the setting. This is a completely open roleplay, so jump in at any time. If you want a bit more information about the cyber-world this is taking place in, read this. Be as creative (or kinky) with your character's appearence as you want and do or add anything you see fit. But above all, JOIN THIS RP NOW OR I SHALL EAT YOUR SPLEEN!! Er... I mean HAVE FUN!!
A heavy, calloused hand came down on Meds' shoulder. "You. It's your turn." croaked a voice that sounded like sandpaper scaping through an aluminum pipe. Meds spun around to find a pair of sunken, olive-like eyes inches form his own. He took a step back to take in the massive form of a red skinned, ape-like creaturwho's only mission in life was to act as one of the countless bouncer-creatures patrolling all side of the Good Night Club. Meds looked around, a little puzzled. "But there are poeple ahead of me in line." The bouncer stared blankly, some drool dripped to the ground from his tusks. After a pause, he once again slapped his palm onto Med' shoulder and repeated "You. It's your turn."
Shrugging, Meds ducked under the velvet rope and made his way around the line of envious and resentful stares to the club entrence with the bouncer tailing uncomfortably close behind. Deep inside he mentally bit his thumb at them and chanted "I got in the clu-ub!" But wanting to avoid wasting precious time dealing with unessecary deathmatch challenges when he could be shaking his ass and doing pelvic thrusts to repetitive dance music, he resisted the urge to do this aloud.
Meds had always been proud of his appearence in the Unreality, but he (he refused to say "his avatar") was designed more for gaming then for socializing, sporting a muscled-yet-compact figure with angular features and skin black as onyx save for the crimson leopard spots that ran up his back and speckled across his temples and around his pointed ears and a head as hairless and smooth as his two icey blue eyes. His dress consisted of a pair of worn black leather pants, a white tank top and combat boots. And while he had received many admiring looks in the Melee Emporiums and other gaming facilities, he had not been sure how his appearence would be received in any night club, let alone the notorious Good Night Club.
All these worries melted away as he walked through the doorwary and found himself wading through a sea of the best avatars he had ever seen in his life, ranging from angelically beautiful to mind-twistingly bizarre to menacingly sexy. The filtered light, which had no apparent physical source but rather hung frozen in the air, instantaneously changed colour with every beat of the pulsing electronic music, which was loud enough to immerse yourself in a dance but not so loud as to drown out the users attempting to make ambient conversation around the bar area.
As he made his way to the bar where an NPC bartender took his order, Meds looked to the DJ manning a platform floating several feet above the dancers writhing and convulsing to the music. Whether it was the nine, chopstick fingered limbs or the floating eyeball the size of a bastketball for a head, that DJ's mere appearence seemed to radiate raw, unadulterated funk.
"Excuse me, do you mind?" Meds jumped as he realized the barotone voice had come from the incredibly fat, almost spherical in shape, purple cat sitting atop the bartop. He had assumed it was an NPC added for atmosphere and had absently been playing with it's puffy tail. He mumbled at apology to the cat as it turned back to a vine-pattern tatoos covering her green hued skin and flowers in her hair. Meds could count the number users he had seen using non-humanoid based avatars on one hand, and he had never seen one who had chosen to appear so... well fuzzy and cute.
He tried to hide his staring as the cat went on to the girl about how the government should literally burn vasts amounts of money, thereby tightening the ecomony and lessening inflation. The vine-girl let out a ditzy "Teehee" laugh and pretended to understand. As the cat took a drink from his beer, the vinegirl stared in awe as the obese feline user extended an impossibly long, smooth tongue that quickly lapped up the remainder of the mug's contents and flicked it's rounded tip around the egdes for any alcoholic remains that may have escaped him. He gave her a wink and beckoned her forward to whisper something in her ear. She flushed, picked him up and quickly pushed her way over to one of the "Champagne rooms", which lined the walls and gave users a place for "intimate interaction" (although this was just a suggested place, as Meds judged from the young male giving oral pleasure to an intimidating leather-clad woman in the corner, whom he had been plotiely ignoring).
Meds stared after the feline and companion, and couldnt decide whether he should be amused or petrified. Regardless, he was giggling mischeviously into his palm. Enough watching, he decided. He downed his drink, which burned his throat inspite his having turned all pain receptors off, and grooved his way out to the dance floor to get his socialize on.
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