Merry laughs. "I don't think even my husband holds doors open for me."
As they descend the stairs to the front doors of Wonderland, Merry whistles a little tune of no conseqence to ease her mind.
Sitting at the door, pouring herself a cup of a dark colored tea is a sluagh. In the hushed tones typical of her kind she greets Merry.
"Bunny thought you'd visit if it wasn't so far, but who's your friend?" she looks expectantly at Bronwyn.
"In from Liberty's Heart," Merry says. "She's been working at one of the B&B's in Gettysburg recently. Figured I'd show her the best the Countess has to offer, eh Mouse?"
Mouse's gaze hasn't moved from the troll. "So? That still doesn't tell me who she is," she hisses. "Who are you?"
"My name is Bronwyn, and I'm a friend of Merry's," Bronwyn says. "And tonight I am here to visit Wonderland." And both Merry and Bunny can hear the true speaking in her words; the trollmaid is not the sort that one can imagine lying.
As Mouse is about to whisper another question Merry wraps her arms around Bronwyn's waist and kisses the troll on the cheek before looking back at Mouse. "Come on Mouse, she's just a new *friend*."
Perhaps the trollmaid is new to such games, or the satyr is merely taking pleasure in corrupting one whom Mouse might suspect to be innocent. In either case, Bronwyn flushes slightly at the intimacy.
Mouse shakes her head and buzzes them through the outer door, into a small vestibule. Before them were two heavy oaken doors with extremely ornate brass handles, hinges, and knockers decorating them. A spotlight shining from directly above them illuminates the entrance. Everything else is dark and dirt covered. Literally dirt covered. Someone took a lot of time to adhere soil, rocks, roots, and even things that resemble bugs and worms to the floor and walls.
Merry reaches forward and pulls one of the doors towards them. Noise and odors assault they as they enter the club proper. The band "Skunk Death" is just leaving the makeshift stage area on the far left wall. There are pockets of shadow on either side of it that could house tables though it's hard to determine from this distance. People are still coupled on the dance floor moving to the beat of the canned music that's covering the break in sets. It looks less like dancing to Bronwyn and more like foreplay.
The bar was a square that appeared slightly askew. It was turned so that the corners did not line up with what should have been the parameters of the building. And then there was that. The building was most definitely rectangular on the outside. Inside though, the walls seemed to be where ever they wanted to be forming odd angles and lots of shadowy areas. From some of the shadowy places low moans could be heard mixing in with the rest of the din.
The odd walls were covered in stuff. There were doors of all sorts, gilded mirrors of all shapes and sizes, clocks some of which worked and some which clearly didn't (not that it mattered not one agreed upon the time), cupboards and shelves full of books, and jars, and knick-knacks. In the area between the clutter the walls look paneled. Above on section of the bar hung a pink neon sign that alternately flashed "eat me" & "drink me".
There are no windows, no "normal" neon bar signs. The only thing that looks even remotely normal is the menu board. Until one looks at it a bit closer that is.
The first item of the menu was fresh oysters. Other items included, un-birthday cake, tarts, truffles, mushroom soup, fresh carrots, soda crackers, tea biscuits, and a variety of other standard faire. Apparently they has Orange Marmalade at some point but it is currently crossed out. There is also a list of teas available.
Lighting came from dimly lit lamps hanging from the ceiling. They are of all different shapes and sizes. The way they are arranged gives the feeling that the ceiling itself is more then a little crocked. Smoke clouded the lighting further giving the place a dark murky feel.
Judging from the smell not just tobacco filled the many cigarettes apparent through the place. There was definitely the smell of cloves and other spices. Perhaps there was even incense burning just out of sight. It did not completely cover the smell of marijuana though.
Merry leads Bronwyn to the bar, her arm still hooked through the troll's. "So now what?"
Bronwyn tries not to wrinkle her nose at the excess of smoke and mostly succeeds. "I'm here to look around, tonight," she says. "I should buy you a drink."
She catches the bartender's eye. "One for the lady, and I'll also have what she's having." Bronwyn fishes in her pocket for her money.
The bartender slides two mugs of draft toward you and smiles a bit leeringly at Bronwyn. "That's one beautiful set you've got there," he offers.
"Horns that is," he chuckles. "I'm sure it's why our little Merry-maker likes you. Satyrs always have a thing for big... horns."
Merry looks a bit uncomfortable, but laughs quickly enough.
Bronwyn smiles, too, trying not to show any reluctance or squeamishness at the bartender's comment as she hands him the money for the beer. At the same time she gives Merry a squeeze that could be interpreted by the lascivious one way but may send a different signal to a concerned satyr.
"Thanks," she says to the bartender, then to Merry, "Want to sit down somewhere?"
"Sure," Merry says, leading Bronwyn to a table near one of the walls. Merry must've though about it, because it gives Bronwyn a good view of much of the room, including the main door.
She sets her glass down and checks to make sure there's nothing on the seat before siting. "These darker corners are often, well... Nobody'll question us being alone over here, or bother us, either," she explains.
Bronwyn holds Merry's chair for her and is sure to check her own chair and clean it with a napkin if need be.
"I can't tell you much more than you see," she says looking at the room. "The place changes each time it moves and I've never been in any of the back rooms since it's here. But I'll help with what I can."
Bronwyn surveys the room from their vantage point to see who is about, and whether she recognizes anyone else.
She speaks in a low voice. "I don't know Chas, Lord Shire, but if you see him, point him out." She pauses and thinks for a minute. "You say you haven't been in any of the back rooms since it moved here, but did you before you came here? What was in them?"
She speaks in a low voice. "I don't know Chas, Lord Shire, but if you see him, point him out."
Merry nods when Bronwyn mentions Chas and gives the room a quick scan, shaking her head to indicate that she doesn't see him.
She pauses and thinks for a minute. "You say you haven't been in any of the back rooms since it moved here, but did you before you came here? What was in them?"
"Well, one leads to Chas and Bunny's rooms, another to the Hearth where the freehold's Balefire is kept, and there used to be oh... maybe a dozen others," she says. "There's the kitchen, a few tricked out like dungeons, a few more that are bedrooms for Chas's girls or for rent, and a few multipurpose rooms, often storage or for private parties."
"They've all got two doors normally, one from the central hallway of doors, and one from the room here."
Bronwyn nods and commits the details to memory. She's about to ask another question when ...
Merry sets a hand on Bronwyn's suddenly. "That's Chas," she says looking toward the bar. A greying cat pooka steps from the door closest to the bar walks and has a few words with the bartender. He seems agitated.
Bronwyn nods once. She waits to see what Chas does before asking Merry another question.
The bartender says something and points toward Merry and Bronwyn. Chas starts walking toward the table before being stopped by an albino woman with long rabbit ears that just emerged from another door, this one close to the entrance. He snaps at her, his words lost in the industrial music currently filling the empty set. His hand flies as fast as his words and almost knock the white pooka to the floor with the force of the blow.
Merry looks stunned. "Something's wrong here," she says. "That's Bunny, but I've never seen Chas... Not in front of the cusomers, like that."
"Don't worry," says Bronwyn quietly. "He won't hit you like that. Not more than once, anyway."
Merry smiles and perhaps blushes at the troll's assurances.
She watches Chas and the reactions of those around him. While she makes no overt moves, Bronwyn is sizing up the room as a combat venue in case she has to defend Merry from Chas.
[A lot of shadows, in which there might be all sorts of hazards, primarily in the form of furniture and other obstacles, or possibly hiding other opponents. Nothing immediately threatening, Bronwyn is sure she could make the main door and at least two others in a hasty retreat if necessary.]
A few heated words make it to Bronwyn as Chas backhands Bunny, again. "Find her!"
Merry, who has the closest view of Bronwyn, can certainly tell that Bronwyn is displeased by this abuse.
Merry looks a little worried as Chas turns bak toward the table, and moves closer to Bronwyn, leaning in and wrapping an arm loosly about the troll's shoulder, as if she's been whispering in Bronwyn's ear.
As Chas approaches, she turns and smiles sexily, "Hi, Chas."
"Long time, no see, Merry," he says with a disturbingly wide grin. "Who's your friend? I don't recognize her, and today's not a day I really want to be entertaining strangers."
"I'm Bronwyn," says Bronwyn, looking Chas up and down with a vague but happy expression on her face, as if she's had too much of something. She turns to Merry and says, vaguely reproachfully, "I thought you said they were friendly here."
As Bunny rises up from the floor in the distance, she bumps into a very handsome, extremely charismatic gentleman who has just entered the club. She pauses for a moment, looking at him.
He speaks for a moment with her, also before Chas blocks her view.
Merry answers Bronwyn with a smile and a gentle hand brushing the troll's horn gently, "I said we could make friends here, Bronnie, not that they're all that friendly." Her gaze travels from Chas to Bunny and back, letting him know she disapproves.
Bronwyn keeps her expression schooled to neutrality as best she can.
Chas seems indifferent about Merry's opinion of how he handles his affairs. "There's nothing going on today, Merry. No problems for me to deal with."
He gives her a steely look, "And you know I love your opinions on how to run my place, especially when you bring me the noblest of Kiths." He bows to Bronwyn, but his eyes never leave hers.
"You two spending the night at the Waelder House? Merry finally dump that @sshole of a husband and the whelp?" he asks. His grin gets a little bit wider.
"Oh, where we'll end up is still up in the air," Bronwyn smiles, and puts in the effort it takes to have some facsimile of sincerity in the expression. "Sometimes girlfriends just like a little drinkie-poo at a neighborhood place."
Chas's attention is taken by a handsome man in black speaking with the albino rabbit pooka that Chas just argued with. His gaze flits back and forth between the two groups for a moment before grudgingly heading back toward the main floor. "Make sure you don't just leave it there, Merry."
"I'm sure the police aren't interested what really happened at Cannon's," he threatens.
Merry shoots him a dark look, but doesn't respond. As he walks away, the veneer slides away and she looks scared.
Bronnie remembers an old theater in Gettysburg that burned down about a year ago. The last business to occupy it was a "gentleman's club" called Cannon's. Electrical fire, the papers had said.
Bronwyn pats Merry's hand reassuringly. She says in a low voice, "His kind thrives on fear. Especially when he can use your fear to hide his own."
Her attention is divided between Merry and Chas; she's watching to see what Chas does with Bunny and her new companion.
Merry nods, "I just don't want to cause trouble for Ethan. It's why I stopped this sort of... well..." She seems hesitant, but Bronwyn's strength is perhaps contagious. "I don't revel in my Unseelie side like I used to, not since Ethan helped me get cleaned up."
Bronwyn nods, understanding.
"He does seem off. Something big must be going down," Merry says.
"Maybe we should try one of the back rooms. I can probably show you most of the place, if it hasn't changed too much since moving," she offers tentatively.
"Let's watch a moment longer. We can finish our drinks before we get up," says Bronwyn.
Bronwyn can easily sense a rising tension between Chaz and the gentleman he had been talking to as can many within the crowd. Those around the scene begin to fall silent, listening, waiting. Thus the conversation can now be heard over the background noise.
"First of all, I haven't been all high and mighty. Second, I ain't been telling any tales. Third, I'm dead already for coming into this place, so your threats are less that shit in the wind. I also hear that it's difficult to run an establishment like this when there are cops, lupines and kindred all concerned with shutting it down. Permanently."
He takes a most unnecessary breath and lets it out slowly.
*This guy is real lucky I'm not allowed to antagonise him. I swear, he is really starting to piss me off.*
"I ain't looking for trouble, and I'm leaving right now. Rest assured that if I ever come back, it's unwillingly."
Chaz laughs. He seems genuinely amused with the man's behavior. When he speaks it's to Bunny. "Friend of Glam's or not, I don't [like] people like that around here. You got that?"
Bunny nods and remains silent.
With a deep breathe Chaz takes the now vacant seat across from her and the two begin to converse, quietly.
Hayden turns and walks towards the door, blood ready to be used to speed himself up should he hear moment coming up behind him. He is also pretty pissed off that his Presence didn't work. Must be something about that guy...
As he gets to the door the band begins to play once more. The crowd reverts to its former state. They seem to have decided that the threat has passed.
Merry lets out a deep breath. "I wonder what that was all about. Something is definitely not right here tonight."