New York 2300 Hours @EmilyHuene ; @vamp Night time in New York city was always a wonderful thing. To the humans of the world, it existed as a place where anything can happen. The busy city roared on in a never ending slumber similar to that of Vegas or some other casino-ridden road strip. But for those who existed beyond the sights of the humans...the night was something different all together. A hidden library off a dirty side street gave way to a secret underground warehouse where all creatures of the night came to party. Vampires, werewolves, fairies. All creatures who could see the Veil of the truth were welcome here. Though, goblins and orcs and the like didn't really venture this far inward to the busy city. They had their own little slice of the underground with the trolls under the bridges. This particular venue was named the Fanged Tooth, as it's owner had an affinity for the Faerie blood in his ancestry. Those that personally got to meet with the man swore his teeth were even sharpened to give himself that look. It was all smoke and mirrors as the man barely had a drop of Faerie blood in him to begin with. But he was supportive of the community so no one called him out on it. A girl in a purple cloak came out of the rain and entered into the hushed library nearing midnight on this normal Saturday night. In the back was an elderly lady clerk who seemed to be reading the same book every night. Tonight though, the girl didn't feel like socializing. She faded away in the light, turning herself into an ethereal projection that normal eyes could not see. She walked past the clerk and literally through the doorway (which was marked with an Employees Only sign) and appeared on the other side. It was as if she were a ghost. There were two actual doors going in. One normal, and a second made of steel so as to block out sound. Like the first door, she phased right through it as if it wasn't there. Then, materializing into solid form on the other side, she felt the weight of gravity take hold of her again. The girl threw down her hood showing long, dark purple hair. It wasn't natural, though the girl wished it was; she had to dye it once a month to keep it looking fresh. Walking down the curved set of stairs the music hit her instantly. Loud pounding music of some up and coming musician in the underground community blasted out of the speakers. The girl continued downward until she was entering onto the crowded dance club. Not a single person here was human, but a few chose to keep their more human features. One werewolf for example wouldn't bother turning full wolf as they didn't make good dance partners. The girl would keep her cloak curled around her body as she moved around the dance floor. There were booths and tables off to the side of the dance floor. The kind of table rich people would sit at for hours and make deals at and things. How horribly cliche. Ignoring the other patrons, she kept herself at a distance from anyone else and found a nice dark corner to sit in.