Dance in the Dark [1-2 people]

[enchantinghedgie]

{DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE}

Rosalind Ward didn't care that it was storming. She didn't care that there was no moon out. She really didn't give a fuck about anything, at that point. All she knew was, since the first minute she heard her history teacher mention a specific name, she had to forget it.

Honestly, she didn't know why she had even gone to history that day. Like a god percentage of the population at Barrie, she skipped this class on a daily basis. But today there was nothing else to do, so she had dropped in to see what could possibly bore her out of her mind. Though to be honest, she enjoyed the lecture, as much as she would denty it. Until the very end of the class when the profess or started bragging about some kid in his other class.

"To the few of you who decided to actually show up today, I hope you know that you've been shown up by someone earlier today. Instead of sitting around wandering off like you all seem to be doing, someone actually decided to participate. I know, shocking in this day and age. Soren Somersett, though his language was-"

Rosalind had stopped listening at that point.

Soren.

Soren Somersett.

Attending Barrie.

Within a few minutes of realizing this, she had booked it out of there before being dismissed. No fucking way. It couldn't be. How the fuck could that even happen?

No, she couldn't even think about it.

As soon as the sun went down, she had gotten ready and gone out, intending to drink away any forbidden thoughts of her biggest mistake.

Once she made it to Down The Rabbit Hole, she immediately began to drink. A lot. Now, anyone who knew Rosalind (which was very few) knew that she could hold her alchohol. But after a few hours, she was perfectly sloshed, as she intended to be. All her thoughts of now were more drinks and the guy dancing with her. The pulsating lights and the music seemed to match her heartbeat.

Then suddenly, it stopped.

The lights and music, not her heartbeat.

What the fuck? Didn't they know that she was having the fucking best time ever? The guy she was dancing with whimpered like a fucking puppy. What a pussy.

Oh well. She was sure she could find someone else to spend time with in the pitch dark. Someone else to get her mind off forbidden topics.

OUTFIT

[enchantinghedgie]

Rosalind flinched as someone grabbed her shoulder. She knew it wasn't a man's hand so she had a problem with it. She was about to say something rude when she heard the girl talk.

“I’m ssory. Ithink sssomebody put sssumthin in my drink.”

Oh HELL no. If there was one thing Rosalind could not stand, it was drugging. Like, seriously, if you couldn't get a fucking girl without them, you might as well just get the hell out and just deal with the fact that you are not attractive. And if it wasn't for that reason, it was for rape and maybe murder. Which obviously was not okay in Rosalind's book. That was why she always paid close attention when she bartended, and if she caught someone slipping something into a drink, she flipped the hell out and kicked them out.

“I’m ssorry.”

Maybe it was the Enchantress, but Rosalind's senses were coming back and she was sobering up quick. "It's okay, swee-" but it was too late, she was already falling. Roz caught her before she hit the ground, holding her under the arms like a trust fall.

Then she noticed something. Among the smell of alcohol and sweat, one scent stood out. Was that saltwater? Yeah.

Oh shit, this girl must be a reincarnate. A mermaid, maybe? Rosalind thought of all the stories with oceanic things in them. The Little Mermaid was the first she thought of. Maybe this girl was a mermaid?

Well, whatever the fuck was going on, she needed to get her help soon. But she couldn't drag her to the hospital alone and she had left her damned phone back at her dorm.

Well, Rosalind wasn't weak, she she was capable of dragging her to gthe nearest table. She didn't notice or really look if anyone was there; she was just worried about getting this girl some help. Brething for a moment and using her foot to pull out a chair, she forced herself to lift the practically deadweight girl into the pretty supportive chair, looking around for some help.

It was then she saw the person that was already at the table. "You got a phone?" she asked, barely looking at them.

notes; Becket, you can totes still post here, I just needed a post for her and didn't have time/muse for Sorelind. :/

[OLIVER QUINN]

Oliver was so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so lost.

He didn't go to clubs. Ever. He didn't LIKE clubs in the least! They were loud and bright and horrid and crowded and smelly and...loud. Mostly loud. Oliver really couldn't stand loud music.

However, he'd really never been good with directions, and on his way to a very important inventors' conference (okay, more like a weekly circle of local tinkerers, but it was high priority to him), he had somehow taken a wrong turn somewhere and ended up quite thoroughly lost. Hadn't they been supposed to be meeting in a restaurant? Well, this was certainly not at all a restaurant, this was a club, and Oliver didn't want to be in a gosh-darn club!

Oh, this was bad, this was bad, this was royally the opposite of good. He definitely had to get out of here and get to his conference as fast as possible and--

But, quite suddenly, Oliver was swept up in the wave of grinding, crashing, dancing bodies, his eyes dilating under the flickering lights. He couldn't see. He couldn't feel his way out, because there were bodies all around him and he simply couldn't just go groping about if he couldn't see. That would be just impolite.

Someone bumped into him hard, without even an apology, and Oliver felt his glasses slip off his face.

"Oh!" he cried out, immediately falling to his hands and knees to grab at his glasses, but they were lost, kicked about under the feet of the wild dancers. Shit. Those were his only pair of glasses! Now he'd have to wear contacts for weeks, and he really wasn't all that fond of contacts, whether he looked good with them or not!

"Ohhh, no no no no no!" he mumbled to himself, scuttling madly on all-fours between confused couples and angry drunken clubgoers who yelled at him to get out of the way. Oliver, scared and out of place, mumbled apologies, his now-bruised hands reaching always as he squinted through the light. Where could they be?

Ah!

At last, at last, a glimpse of glass and black plastic! That had to be them!

Overwhelmed with joy, he reached out his hand, his fingers fastening around his glasses--

And then, quite suddenly, all the lights went out.

Snatching his glasses off the floor, Oliver stood up so fast that he nearly hurt himself. Dark? No music? Hm. Couldn't be some cheap prank. No, no, no, it had to be more widespread than that; it was dark out the windows, too, dark everywhere.

A blackout? Here? Now?

Oliver groaned. "Why me?"