A Night On The Underground


brynn_icon.gif everleigh_icon.gif gatter_icon.gif kendall_icon.gif squeaks5_icon.gif pride_icon.gif seren4_icon.gif

Scene Title A Night On The Underground
Synopsis An artist named Aanstaande is playing at Wonderland the night a curious bunch of Safe Zone Residents come to join the mad party.
Date March 19, 2021

They say the door changes its passwords; rotates through them like a Mad Hatter does his various moods. The flashing eyes on the other side of a slatted peephole appear delighted while they wait for a phrase that might grant entry— like those of a Cheshire Cat, except that Cat is quite mad, and should be minded carefully when at its most amicable.

"If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense," begins one such passphrase.

And its answer: "Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't."

The long walk in long-abandoned subway tunnels leading to this point was dotted with graffiti on the walls increasingly in theme with Alice's Adventures, with everything from fantastic creatures to strange objects of weird size and shapes and color— clocks bearing impossible times, furniture 'floating in the air' at odd angles.

Were the whole tunnel leading to the broken wall suddenly to tilt on its end toward this iron door, it's not hard to imagine it all might look like what Alice saw when she tumbled down the rabbit hole straight to…


March 19, 2021

11:37 pm

Wonderland is a lawless place laid spread-eagled between the driving forces of the city of New York, a limb for each player should they come to treat with her. The ground was once formerly of the Ghost Shadows, but they're now less real than even their name would suggest, and the dazzling nightclub is a new thing taking root in the dark. The intense, blacklit establishment in the underground dances with neon colors; paint splattered on the bodies of those writhing on the dance floor below. The establishment thrums with bass like it's a heartbeat, one which flares visually with spirals of light cast off of the stage arrangements made up more of electronics than space for any persons to navigate.

The deejay scrubbing out tunes both popular and his own this evening is rumored to be SLC-E— writing his songs and composing beats under the influence of his ability. It's said he's a bonafide refugee from the EUSR's oppressive hold over Expressives in the Eurozone, known only by his stage-name Aanstaande. He wears a dark set of black sunglasses, the rest of the top half of his face covered by a bouncing poof of brown curls grown long in a quiff hairstyle.

A bar is visible almost immediately after exiting the holding area beyond the iron door of entry, selling alcohol that's just as illegal as any of the other substances being exchanging hands here— for starkly different reasons both. Those keenly aware of the Refrain trade in the city know that it's likely d'Sarthe any purveyors of the glowing drug report back to, though that's not the only thing one could potentially palm money for in this crowd. The highly-armed security guards, whatever they mind closely for, isn't that.

With the club's operator known to be SLC-E as well, it's easy to assume they steadfastly stand guard to keep the crowd from becoming another Xpress tragedy. For some, that's enough to put them at ease despite the guns so very visible nearby.

In the shifting beats that transition one song to another, the deejay lifts the microphone by his setup of boards and laptops. He calls out: "Hey hey hell-o New York!

"How's everyone feeling tonight?"

A party like this is a heartbeat, a pulse on the happenings of society and side of the world not typically seen by those not in the know. It's somewhere that people are really living. For Everleigh, while not much of a participant, is thrilled by the buzz of energy and people. She blends in just fine—her clothes seem styled in a club-going fashion but don't seem to be the sort of thing you find just off the rack. Dark smokey eyes and red lipstick, even if she's not really rushing into the midst of the crowd, she blends in with just about everyone.

Aside, of course, from the fact that Everleigh's keeping more towards the outskirts where she's less noticed but having a good vantage on the majority of the area. Living without being too participatory. She pumps a fist in the air along with many in the crowd at the DJ's call for the vibe of the crowd. There's no cheer though, just a fist held up and a broad smile. She's having fun, whatever her idea of it is.

Pushing his way through the crowd and garnering some decidedly weird looks, there's someone in the club that absolutely does not look like he belongs. However, he knew where the place was, knew the password, and seemed confident that he'd be let in. The security guards aren't too sure what to make of a dirty old vagrant making the rounds, but the glass of some sort of drink in his hand proved he did, in fact, have the cash, so there's no reason to kick out a paying customer. He's not causing any trouble, at least, but at least one of them is keeping an eye on him at all times. The dirty blanket wrapped around his shoulders certainly doesn't help his case. Then again, these days you don't know who may be in the pay of someone else. He, too, moves around the edges of the crowd, more because people are wrinkling their noses at him, though his expression suggests that he ran out of fucks to give a long time ago.

As the noise ramps up, he turns towards the DJ and grins broadly, lifting his glass up as he moves… only to step on someone's foot. Probably not the first time it happened tonight, or the last.

I told you it's going to be fine.

Jac Childs’ hands barely stumble over the words of assurance she offers the young woman beside her. Brynn had been reluctant to go — and probably wisely so, too — but the red headed teenager had insisted. She was tired of being cooped up and never doing anything anymore. It wasn't that long ago that a trip like this wouldn't have been balked at but taken full advantage of. Luckily, Jac’s excitement and enthusiasm is not so easily dissuaded.

Not quite on the fringes, but nowhere near the middle of the crowd, Jac hops and rocks with the energy around her. Her arms go up and overhead with the swell of voices, and she shoots a grin over to Brynn. See, this was a great idea! As her hands come down again she tugs at the young woman’s hands.

Let’s see if we can find some paints. It's an easy suggestion, one more part of the whole experience. Some paint has already spattered her clothes, clinging to the frayed threads in the knee of her jeans. There's even a handprint on the back of her t-shirt. Jac clasps her hands together in silent pleading for Brynn to keep up.

Keeping up is about all Brynn can do. Against her own better judgement, she came along — she couldn't let Jac go alone!! The walk down the long tunnel was slow, but the brunette made it. The cane she uses both for balance and for making sure of where her foot is stepping isn't exactly a stylish accessory. But the lure of music had been huge… and Jac's desperation and enthusiasm were hard to say no to.

Standing now in the flashing lights, Brynn is sticking to the very edges of this crowd for a whole lot of reasons — getting tripped would be bad, having a blinding migraine or a seizure from getting too deep in the lights would be bad, and she's already disoriented enough even with an earplugs in her ear that she doesn't dare let Jac out of her sight lest she wind up completely lost in here! The pounding bass of the music she can feel in her chest and through her feet, so she knows it's not just loud to her, it's LOUD.

What are they painting? she asks curiously. Sure, she sees the paint all over Jac and has some on herself! But she hasn't really got a glimpse of what, if anything specific, the paint is for! Trying to keep her eyes away from the light show, she lets Jac tug her through the crowd, holding on for dear life to the younger girl's hand.

The roar of the crowd reaching the stage, the artist standing up on it looks up to them to flash a grin. "The only mainstage I want to be at is right here, tonight, with you," Aanstaande professes while setting up his next track with one hand. "So for this next one I'm gonna play something new I've been working on. I'll check back in with you all soon, but for now… enjoy!"

The pulse of the previous song comes to a close, fading into the beginning beat of the new experience— and all the lights on the stage draw in and fall low, leaving only the blacklights hanging from the rafters to provide lighting for a long breath of a moment.

A pleasant tss and hint of melody are accompanied by a return of the lights return over the crowd in white pulses, the outer edge of the ring of projectors fading more to a pink hue. A crescendo into the apparent beginning of the melody, though, collapses in on itself in a breakdown of sound— before the first, distorted words of the song come across in a nearly-robotic register.

Atoms fall apart
Solar flares arrive

The resumed quieter tones of the music allow for the distortion and echo of the words to be better heard. The second line is trailed almost by what sounds like radio static with the same message.

Buildings collapse
Only a few will survive

The last words of the two lines echo and stretch, sounding gradually more digital— and then— more demonic in the bending of the sound.

The world as we know it
Will no longer be there (be there)
Water is gone
A new era has begun

The white light flashing its way up across the stage has gradually been invaded upon by pink hues, coalescing, getting more noticeable until the initial blinding white is suddenly vanished. A few seconds lapse while the gradually building tick-tock of the opening plays on its own. Then—

Prepare yourself
…The Apocalypse

Those pink hues of light make a sudden violent shift to a deep red, ruby tones sparkling in and through a new blast of smoke that suddenly spumes from boxes on the stage. The comparatively gentle opening opens into a buzzing electronic wave that washes over the entire room. The deejay jumps up, mic still in hand, fist pumping as he enjoys the music just as much as anyone else here, by the looks of it.

The music softens after that initial crash of noise only to quickly build up again, building toward a more appreciable crescendo of excitement right before a drop the crowd can properly appreciate this time. But not before the voice like an early warning system repeats:

Prepare yourself for
The Apocalypse

Then the dramatic single-color lighting gives way to more hues kinds of beams, bathing partiers in glowing yellows and even specks of greens and blues from spinning lights while the stage itself only lightens to an orange.

The crush of people is overwhelming at times, especially if you go to a place in the hopes of finding someone familiar. The old vagrant keeps moving through the crowd, staring people in the face and muttering to himself, shaking his head. Which… doesn't help his image any. He ends up near a couple teenagers and looks them over. Oh, look. One's covered in paint. "Some kind of an artist, are you?" he queries loudly. Well, the music being what it was, doubtful anyone would be able to hear him regardless. If he had to guess, they're probably too young to be anyone he really knew. He shakes his head, tugging that dirty blanket about himself as if he were cold, nevermind the fact that it's probably too warm in here with all the bodies pressing in.

Science never rests, but the human mind is not so unfailing; a certain book once said that there is a season for all things, and while Albert Gatter has never placed much stock in organized religion, truths can be found in surprising places. The irrefutable conclusion that follows, then, is this: it's Friday night, and it's time to party.

Gatter's rocking a black jacket and pants this evening, with a vivid orange shirt beneath and a pair of dark glasses; he doesn't look too out of place.

"Heard about this place; supposed to have a very… artistically inclined crowd," Gatter says, nodding. "If ever there was a place to find a cure for a slump, this is it."

Boy, was Seren in need of it. The long dark tunnel to the hidden-away party zone emerging into this light-swirling space brings their grey eyes to limn with scattering silver as they take it all in. They turn their head to Gatter slightly and reply with all the loudness needed to be heard well over the noise, "This is great! This looks great."

Heart hammering in their chest, they're dressed in a black leather jacket of their own over an old Pink Floyd tee bearing the light-refracting triangle design, paired with gold chain wound through their ear and dangling down as earrings and bulky colorful bracelets to add brightness where they're otherwise lacking. The boots they're wearing are old standbys, comfortable to party in. Baird sits on their shoulder, plumage glowing, amber eyes delighted by absolutely everything he sees here.

His sleek blue cat head turns, iridescently catching the light as he kneads Seren's shoulder with clawed lynx paws, tufted ears flicking. Sapphire body melts into emerald feathering and psychedelic, glowing eyes of peacock feathers, a long train of them dipping down Seren's back like a cape and swaying slowly from side to side.

"What do you recommend first?" they practically shout to Gatter, any sheepishness over being in this new environment sure to fade quickly in the face of such energy. Already a grin was beginning to creep at the corner of their mouth and chase away the last of winter's blues.

The music's loud enough and energetic enough that it's hard not to be swept up in it. Everleigh's smile is bright, moving her head in time with the music. She's in her own little world for a moment or two before the jostling of people nearby pulls her back to reality. "Sorry," she offers, despite the fact that she wasn't the one doing the jostling. It's apparent to her that the crowd's shifted enough that her spot on the edge is getting a little more populated than she'd like, so she makes her way a little closer to the entrance to re-strategize her tactical position for people watching while she's enjoying the music.

That, of course, is when Everleigh spots Gatter, Seren, and most importantly Baird. Black lights, music, bright colors everywhere on walls and people alike are all a feast for the eyes but she's never seen anything quite like the creature perched upon Seren's shoulder. She stares for a moment, mouth slightly agape before she refocuses herself, settling into a new position out of the way for people watching.

Although at this point it's probably more Baird watching.

The process of finding paint is thwarted, at least momentarily, by the light show. The colors and movement grip her with a child-like fascination, and Jac slips free of Brynn’s grasp to stare upward and follow the flashing and pulsating that dazzles like fireworks. Luckily the teen doesn't get too far before there's a stranger not just in their midst, but also talking to them.

The little red head, if she were alone, might pretend to have not heard the question. Not entirely out of avoidance either — it's noisy and there's so much more to explore. But with Brynn it's a little harder to just wander off like she were unaware, so she only gets a few steps in before she confronts the man and his questions.

“No.” Jac’s voice is just as loud, weighing with curiosity of her own. Who's this old guy talking to a couple of young adults, and she's almost an adult so it totally counts, when he's ancient enough to be their grandfather? “Not really, but someone’s got paint that glows.” And she obviously wants to find it. Her eyes flick up to the lights again, drawn to the spray of greens and blues that dust the yellow hued wash.

Well. That was disappointing. Losing interest in them, the old vagrant shrugs his shoulders at them and turns away. He doubts they would have been old enough for him to know them anyway even if by chance they were involved with that group; he never did talk to any of the Lighthouse kids, he was just tasked with helping keep them safe and evacuate as needed, not talk to them.

Pushing his way through the crowd, he finishes his single drink and sets the now empty glass on a counter or other flat surface somewhere, then continues scanning the crowd. The blatantly fake creature on the shoulder of someone is gawped at from afar, and he decides to make his way over. "Is that real?" he asks, reaching a finger over to poke at Baird. Well that's just rude.

Brynn has her hearing ear blocked up against the pulsating noise in this place, and she's grateful for it. She's pretty sure she'd be deaf again in a heartbeat. Even with an earplug in, she's being assaulted by sounds she's never experienced. And the light show, while damn impressive, is enough to make her keep her eyes on the people around them. So the vagrant speaking to them, she at least notices. She catches about half of what he says by watching his lips move in the flashing lights, but then he's wandering off.

Holy crap, there's a lot of movement and chaos in here. With her hand that can feel things still holding the cane to help her keep her balance, Brynn can't tell if her right hand is still fisted in Jac's clothing except that every time the younger teen moves, she gets tugged around some. So… she must still have hold!

When the older guy shambles off, she catches Jac's eyes and shrugs! Then nudges her foster sister forward as if to say, Well?! Paint!

Gatter's eyes flicker around the place, taking in the environment, scanning the crowd on the off chance of spotting any familiar faces. The surprising part is that he succeeds. His eyes slip past Everleigh, only to snap back as he recognizes her. He's both surprised and delighted.

He is equally surprised, though less delighted, by the old man accosting Seren. Gatter reaches up and pulls his dark glasses down, fixing the old man with a stare. "Are you real?" he asks in return. "Or are you a bowling ball dreaming of sashimi?"

There, that should give them a window to escape. "Come on! There's someone I want to introduce you to; let's start with that," he calls to Seren, laying a hand on their shoulder to prevent the crowd from separating them as he guides Seren towards Everleigh.

Baird's head turns first when addressed, amber eyes glowing with an inner light. The emerald-toned tufts on his haunches are delightfully soft to the touch, parting around the prod to him. The body underneath is firm. The strange lynx-peacock gryphon flicks an ear.

It's real???

When Seren turns the stranger's way, their grey eyes are gleaming silver in a way that sparkles in the variable light around them, a telltale sign of some kind of ability use. They smile brightly, hand half-lifted in a wave. "Sorry, excuse us," they apologize warmly. They may or may not have heard well at all, with the way Gatter's attempt to herd them off merits a double-take when he starts to steer them off. "Oh, all right!"

Listen, they're just happy to be here— along for the ride.

Baird continues to peer curiously at the vagrant-seeming old man, eyes narrowed in placid scrutiny. The wave of peacock feathers back down his summoner's shoulder sway with their movement away, the eye pattern on them glowing unnaturally.

To say that Everleigh is surprised to see a familiar face in this crowd is an understatement. So when she catches sight of Gatter, she raises an eyebrow and makes her way towards the pair, Baird getting a much more curious look as it seems she’ll be getting a closer look. She does pause for a moment to cast her gaze in the direction of the vagrant-like man, concern washing over her features briefly before she turns her attention back.

She gives an amused smile in Gatter’s direction. “I didn’t expect to see anyone, much less you. This doesn’t strike me as your scene much.” Her eyes dart over to Seren, taking a moment to assess them since she was more distracted by Baird previously. “I’m Everleigh,” she offers, not waiting for a proper introduction. That and she’s trying her best to talk amidst the crowd and the music.

Is he real? Well, that might be taken with a grain of salt at the moment. Gatter's retort draws a look of surprise from the 'old man', and he has to bite his tongue hard so he doesn't break his cover. Oh man, quoting one of his favorite games, and he can't even be sarcastic and call him Doreen. Be strong, it's not time yet.

He then deliberately turns so Gatter is no longer in his line of sight, instead peering closely at Seren's face. He'll have to remember this one.

"Hmm. Fancy." Pretty positive it's an illusion and not some sort of, well… is it possible to make something real out of nothing? That would be something, for sure. But yeah probably just a really good illusion. He would know.

The VIPs have their own boxes that overlook the dance floor, behind a barrier of glass that drowns out the sound enough to allow for conversation. Celebration happens in those rooms, but also business dealings. Ourania Pride is here for neither of those things tonight, so she excused herself some time ago out onto the walkway to do some people watching and dancing, and has been engaged in the activity for some time.

While she’s dressed for it in a black leather jacket and a skirt of the same material; a short thing that laces up, following along her right leg and keeping the ensemble just this side of risqué. Fishnets are worn underneath, disappearing into a pair of black ankle boots studded with clear rhinestones set in silver rivets to give them an edge. Her top is a simple thing. A plain white tee shirt, but its hem has been balled up and tied over her ribs, leaving her flat stomach exposed.

This, however, is not her scene. It’s evident in the more languid way she rocks her hips in time with the music, the way her arms weave through the air above her head and slowly come down, stretched out on either side. The way her wrists turn and her fingers subtly shift, it’s like she’s performing some archaic magic ritual, letting the music serve as a backdrop for the somatic display.

Like she’s twirling invisible threads around her fingers.

She’d rather be dancing to Depeche Mode. Hell, she’d rather be performing on that stage. Since she can’t have that, Ourania can at least make her way down to the floor below and decide if she wants to feel the crush of bodies on the dance floor, or find herself something to drink. Or better than that, maybe. Once she’s descended the stairs to the main floor, she dithers, waiting to see which way the night decides to take her.

Gatter returns Everleigh's grin with one of his own. "To be fair, you're right! This isn't as much my scene anymore, but there was a time when it was! I was quite the party monster for awhile!"

Oh yes, there was a time… and it had been a time. A time he'd had all over the place, making lots of memories. Parties and good food and general good times. He's glad he's moved on to more meaningful things now — to laying the foundations for that city in the sun — but that doesn't mean he has to be a slave to his work, does it? Certainly not! A little harmless self-indulgence now and again, as a treat, never hurt anyone. Certainly not. Especially not when meaningful work begins to seem dull and… not meaningful. Horror.

Well. He'll start prowling for some self-indulgence momentarily; formal introductions await. "Everleigh, meet Seren Evans; Seren, meet Doctor Everleigh Madison!" he proclaims, beaming; one of the few things better than enjoying something yourself is introducing a friend to something you enjoy, and when that something happens to be the company of another friend, why, so much the better! "Have to say, though, I didn't expect to find you here, either! Are you a reformed party monster too?"

Seren strikes out a hand to Everleigh with a bright grin. "I'm Seren," they lift their voice to reintroduce themself unnecessarily, but pin on a very important: "And my friend here is Baird!"

The peacock cat on their shoulder finally looks away from the direction of the strange vagrant, eyes immediately finding Everleigh's. The strange creature keeps his seat safely on his summoner's shoulder, mouth opening in a chitter of a greeting too quiet to be heard over the music. Seren only beams for it. "I work over at Raytech with Al!"

With a turn to Gatter to gather most of what he's saying, they look back at Everleigh quickly after. They wonder, "You here to dance?"

There's a small laugh from Everleigh, not quite loud enough to catch over the music, but the expression on her face does the speaking for her. "Reformed party monster? I was never part of that crowd. You'd catch me at home watching old sci-fi films on a Friday night, not dancing. That hasn't changed much either." She accepts the offered hand from Seren, her smile still bright. Baird is offered a warm smile of greeting as well.

"It's a pleasure. I'm in the Raytech offices pretty frequently, work stuff," she explains, simplifying the conversation for the sake of being heard. Not that she minds the music, it's just harder to have full conversations. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Baird. Your colors make you the best dressed here." Her gaze moves between Gatter and Seren. "Not much of a dancer, either, but this place is positively alive. It's a good place to just soak in the atmosphere."

Her attention moves briefly around the room, blinking a few times when her gaze catches some of the others. "… I think I have patients here."

Jac’s head tilts down when the grimy old man moves off, her face twisting with confusion. Strange, that he didn't say anything else or explain himself, but maybe not enough to chase after him. Especially not with Brynn hanging off her like a barnacle.

The teen turns enough to pry her shirt free of the older girl’s grip. Really, it's going to be fine. Of anyone, she’s the most likely one to find Brynn in the throng of people.

As she turns, half watching the path the smelly weird man cuts, she spots some familiar faces. Blue eyes dart from the group clustered around Baird, recognizing them from Raytech. When she turns again and this time spies Ourania between the shoulders and arms of nearby dancers, giddiness rushes through her stomach, nervous excitement about being where she probably shouldn't be, according to some. It's shrugged off, or more accurately added to the infectious energy that drove her to show up to party in the first place.

“Paint!” The word is exclaimed, nearly shouted as she lastly makes eye contact with Brynn. Then, eyes bright with excitement, Jac flits away into the crowd. Someone, somewhere has that fantabulous glowy type paint.

A brief flash of pain crosses the older man’s face, and he reaches his hand up to rub his temple. Ah, a crowd this big, he can’t really handle this many people for very long. He stumbles away from the group, from the odd creature, and makes his way back over to the bar. The next moment, he has a glass of water of all things, at a party like this? Well, nevermind that. Sipping at it, he starts to push his way through the crowd, headed for the door. No one here he knew, after all. Maybe if less people look at him, it’ll be easier to stay. Either that, or maybe he can just… drop it? If no one he knows is here, maybe it’ll be fine. Changing tacks, he starts for the bathroom instead. Not many other places you can get away from eyes, after all.

Besides, pretending to be an old man isn’t very fun.

Baird preens on Seren's shoulder at the comment afforded to him, the peacock-feather tail behind him flipping up and glowing all the more prominently in the light in a fan behind their head. They chuckle, lifting a hand to scritch the side of his neck.

Seren turns their head back toward Everleigh when she notes there's patients of hers probably here, their brow arching up. "They don't have a monopoly on fun. Enjoy yourself tonight," they declare boldly, looking afterward to Gatter. "What're your plans now?" they wonder.

Maaaaaaaaan. Brynn loses sight of Jac in the crowd, because her sister is epic at ducking, weaving, dodging, and being unseen. She makes a small grunt of annoyance and looks around rather like an alien in a new world. This is clearly not her usual venue. Moving cautiously, she maneuvers through the crowded dance floor toward the relative safety of the fringes. Sure, it's near the bar. Technically speaking, if anyone really cares about such things, she's legal!

She leans on the end of the thing and holds on, waiting to catch the bartender's gaze to get something to drink. She thinks he got the message that she just wants a soda or whatever passes for it, but who knows what she'll wind up with?!

Her gray eyes scan the crowd, looking for Jac and hoping the other girl finds the glow-in-the-dark paint source — they're both spattered, but Brynn would love to get her hands on some drawing materials.

Gatter nods enthusiastic agreement with Seren. "Exactly! They're here to have a good time; you should, too!" he says to Everleigh. At Seren's question, though, he grins deviously. "I'm going to go try to find some fun!" he says; it's interesting the way the word fun seems to sound almost exactly like the word trouble in this particular circumstance, but that grin on his face is almost infectious; he's having a blast already.

"There's sure to be something interesting; just have to go and find it! I'll be back!" He's already spotted one or two people who look like they might know what is what; time to investigate! He grins and ducks off into the crowd making his way towards the (hopeful) party facilitators, bobbing to the beat as he goes; this truly does bring back some good memories. Woohoo!

There's a moment where Everleigh opens her mouth as if to come up with some protest to the idea of fun-in-a-place-there-are-people, but it's either not actually coming out or the music's too loud to hear whatever she's saying. Her gaze shifts onto Gatter as she watches him heading towards who knows where and she looks back to Seren.

"I sincerely don't want to know what his idea of fun here is," she notes with a half a nod to indicate in Gatter's direction. "Not because I'm not interested, but in the favor of maintaining plausible deniability." She fights the urge to look around, mostly because she's afraid at this point of recognizing any other faces, so she keeps her gaze on Baird, a much safer distraction.

Once stripped of the extra bits he used to enhance his illusion, Kendall stows everything away in a backpack, slinging it over his back and making it 'disappear'. After waiting a minute or two in case anyone was, for whatever reason, watching the bathroom, he slips back out into the crowd. Ah, much better. He didn't see anyone he was looking for anyway, so the trip was wasted.

Now, that is not to say he didn't see someone he *knows*. He did meet someone a few days ago, after all, and saw her here. Wading his way through the crowd, this time fortunately without the headache, he manages to find her over by the bar. "Some kind of an artist, are you?" he repeats with an evil smirk. If she caught it earlier, she might put 2 and 2 together.

She doesn't spot him until he's almost to her at the bar, but Brynn offers a wave and a grin in greeting. She's holding up her own little corner of people-watching but she has no idea he's already run across him tonight. There's a bit of relief at seeing someone else she knows, actually.

Pulling out her phone and typing into it quickly, she shows him the screen. Hi! This place is crazy, isn't it? She apparently caught nothing about earlier in the flashing lights. I do lots of art, but all of this — the paint spattered on her — is actually from someone over there somewhere. Jac went to see if she can find paint! she gestures vaguely to the crowd out there.

Making like a creepy weirdo around Brynn sometimes loses something in translation.

The slow sway of Ourania’s hips, the subtle way she’d started to lean toward the bar more so than the dance floor, comes to decay as Gatter enters her orbit. “Albert!” she calls over the music once he’s near enough. Dropping the T off the end of his name when she opts for the French pronunciation serves as a means to convey a certain degree of bonhomie. One of those little quirks of hers.

She’s quick with a dazzling smile. “Aren’t we just full of surprises?” Whether she actually does mean the two of them or just one matters little. Dr. Pride has a conspiratory glint in her eye that isn’t going anywhere for the time being. “Are you going to buy me a drink or ask me to dance?” As if there could be no other options. Finding out what Gatter intends to reveal behind Door Number Three is always an exciting prospect.

It should be noted that there are multiple ways to define exciting.

"Ourania!" Gatter replies, pulling down his tinted glasses a bit to reveal his eyes, as if to verify that yes, this is indeed the Ourania Pride he works with. His delight at running across yet another familiar face is evident and entirely sincere, manifesting on his face as a bright smile. "Didn't expect to run into you here! I pictured you as more the orchestra type!"

Her question, though, sees a change in that grin; he slides his glasses back up, and now his smile is the sort of thing that evokes the image of John Dillinger, leaning in to say hop in losers, we're gonna rob a bank. "Delightful!. Under other circumstances, I'd not hesitate a second for both, order of your choice! Have to pass for now, though!" he says… but his grin only grows wider. "Seems a shame, don't you think, ma lapin? We've tumbled down the rabbit hole into Wonderland; I'd like to see what I might find here, and alcohol might not go well with everything!" Psychochemistry is an area Gatter has both studied professionally and as a hobbyist, and he knows well that alcohol doesn't always play nicely with some of the psychoactives.

Gatter is still grinning. "Would you care to join me?" If not, he can still take her up on that dance, at least for a little bit.

With a warm laugh, Seren looks over their shoulder and then back to Everleigh, edging closer to her to both hear and by heard by their conversation partner with more ease. "I'm trusting that whatever he brings back, it's not something that'll let me forget the night. I've needed this."

Seeing Everleigh occupy her time with focusing on Baird, they look down at their hands for a moment, cupping them together while the silver ringing their eyes shimmers. In their palm appears to be a dark stone, covered with moss. Growth peeks from the moss— a white bulb of light stemming up into existence and creating a flower made entirely of disconnected bridges of pale glow. Two paisleys of leaves rest at the base of the stem.

With an upward curve of one side of their mouth, Seren asks with an upward tick of an eyebrow, "You want to try?"

Kendall wasn't trying to be a creepy weirdo, geez. He was just trying to pick a disguise as un-Kendall as possible! Then again… by those standards, that means Kendall is not a creepy weirdo! A is not B, therefore, B is not A. He raises his eyebrows at her, gaze dropping down at her phone when she shows it to him, reading it, then looks around and grimaces. "It's too noisy in here." Well yeah, it's a club. He glances over to the bartender, then back at Brynn. "Want a drink?" he asks her. "Wait, are you old enough?" Kendall, it's an illegal club with drugs, why would anyone care if she's underage?

Speaking of people-watching, his gaze goes back over the crowd again, mostly towards that strange creature he saw, just in time to catch Seren making something else. Ok, definitely another illusionist, how exciting. He hasn't met anyone who had a similar ability to him in years! He nudges Brynn. "Hey, do you know who that is?" he asks her, then points at Seren.

Brynn gives him a LOOK at the question of legality. Really? In this place? She types out a reply to it, though. Yea, I'm legal — although I have no idea who'd even bother to check here.

She glances to where Kendall is pointing and studies the person. And the epic images that are flowing around them. She's fascinated. When she turns around to type again, she tells him, No. But that *really* primal. Would love to draw it! She glances back there again and although she's grinning, her smile has an edge to it. Still! You should go introduce yourself, she urges a bit cheekily. I think I'm gonna have to head out.

She had wanted so much to just do something fun and 'normal' with Jac, she let herself be convinced that this is fiiiiiiine. It's becoming apparent that it was a bad decision. Ah well. Another time maybe!

Everleigh's eyes widen in a childlike wonderment for a moment, one of her hands reaching towards the stone-and-flower creation before she catches herself, awkwardly moving that hand to straighten her clothes a bit instead. "Sorry, I've just never seen anything like that," she says, taking a moment to try and retain her usual calm and relaxed demeanor. She glances in the direction Gatter disappeared in, then looks back to Seren. "I'm sure whatever he's getting into it'll be unforgettable." She smiles, though the question causes her some confusion.

"Try?" She looks between the flower and Baird, then lets her attention fix firmly on Seren themself. "That's an incredible gift. Anything I've got is mediocre in comparison."

Seren's smile broadens with Everleigh's restrained enthusiasm. "You hold onto it—" they insist, slipping the stone from their palm to hers while Baird peers on. "And imagine what should happen next. Do the colors change? Does the flower grow? Is it not a flower anymore?"

The edges of their silver eyes gleam more brightly, a more glowing white than silver in the dancing light and dark all around them. With gentle warmth, they encourage Everleigh, "Give it a shot."

Overhead, the lights swing down to narrowed points again, flashing white and then deep red in a thrum as the music winds back to another round of lyrics.

The heat is scorching
Forests burned up
The sky colours red
Volcanoes erupt (e̴͚̓r̵̭̂u̸͋ͅp̸̕ͅt̴̳̔)

The deejay up on stage continues to bop his head to the beat, enjoying the performance and being able to hear his music on so vast a stage. If the concerning lyrics bothered him at any point, there's no sign of it now. As the music builds again, oranges and yellows bleed back into the lighting.

The world as we know it
Will no longer be there (be there)
Water is gone
A new era has begun

Several people in the crowd whoop as they sense the buildup of the music again, fists pumping in the air as the overhead lights flicker off briefly in dramatics until the song drops once more.

Prepare yourself for
The Apocalypse

Ma lapin. Ourania bites down on a grin, a light dancing in her eyes that has nothing to do with the strobing or wash of colors from overhead. “I would be delighted to join you, bon ami.” Her nose wrinkles a little, leaning in closer with a hand braced on his arm to make a confession. “I do enjoy a good crossfade, but you’re probably right. Better to start out right. I can always make some choices later.”

Slipping her arm through the loop of Gatter’s is the simplest thing for Ourania. Given that she’s solo on the floor tonight, she can be just as friendly as she pleases. “Let’s get fucked up.

Ourania Pride: Purveyor of Questionable Life Choices.

"Outstanding!" A surprise indeed; he'd half expected her to decline — more than half, actually — but no! It seems she is a reformed party monster as well, if she's talking about crossfades. Off to the races, then! Arm in arm with Ourania, he leads towards the edge of the crowd. There's someone there, lurking at the edge of things, that Gatter's had his eye on for awhile now, behind those dark glasses of his; he's pretty sure he's seen money and baggies passing back and forth over there. Hopefully there will be some mushrooms. Ooh! Or maybe cactus. Peyote's always interesting.

"I'll just be gone a minute then, I'm volunteering to walk you home. The streets are no place for anyone to walk alone." Kendall tells Brynn firmly after buying a drink for himself since she didn't say she wanted one. Yeah, hopefully she won't decide to leave on her own anyway. With one last look to her, he slips off and goes towards the pair of Seren and Everleigh.

"Putting on quite the show here." He already got a good look at Baird when he was disguised earlier, but this time it's something in the process of being made. And Kendall might be a little rude butting in on others' conversations but 1. He may have had a few drinks in addition to the one he has now and 2. If they didn't want attention from random people they wouldn't be showing off in a club for everyone to see. "Oh, something you can get other people to do too huh?" Neat.

Everleigh looks from Seren to the very real-feeling rock in her hands, an eyebrow raised but her intrigue piqued. She stares at it for a moment, clearly unsure if could work before the rock changes. The rock seems to melt away, as if crumbling into dust and in its place is a small tree frog. Brightly colored, each section of the patterns on the frog's back change in time with the beat of the music. If she had been agape at Baird before, she's even more amazed now.

"Okay, this has been absolutely worth leaving my apartment to see," she notes, only looking away from Seren, Baird, and the frog when she hears Kendall's voice entering the conversation. "I've seen quite a few amazing things people can do but… nothing like this. It seems pretty rare to be able to create something from someone else's mind, I'd say." She may, in fact, be nerding a bit about the things an ability like Seren's could manifest.

Her attention turns briefly to Kendall, as he seems to have come to admire as well. "Isn't this amazing?" She asks, her tone excited. After a moment, she straightens herself up, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry if I'm a bit star-struck," she notes. "This is certainly a bright spot. I suppose I've really been needing to get out a bit more." There's a moment following that the gears seem to be turning and Baird is studied briefly before she looks to Seren themself. Baird makes a lot more sense now. "You've got the mind of an artist. Please tell me that Raytech is making good use of your talents. Or that, at least, you make some kind of purchasable art in your spare time."

The moment that the stone turns into something else entirely, Seren lets out an appreciative gasp of their own. Not only did Everleigh succeed, she took to the activity like water. "Look at that," they murmur in awe, able to feel rather than see Baird's purr of appreciation on their shoulder.

Their attention snaps back up on hearing Kendall's voice with a sudden sheepishness to their expression, their eyes still glowing a shimmering silver and white in a ring encroaching on the grey of their irises. They gape rather than have anything they could say, shoulders lifting in a small shrug, especially when Everleigh keys right in on the magic of what happens.

"Well, I—" they start, and when they trail off, the chimera at their side bats a hand to their cheek, shoving it aside. Brow furrowing sharply, Seren looks to Baird. "Hey," they chastise him, and his gold eyes meet their silver, peacock feathers glowing behind them both.

"I'm Seren," they announce loudly to Kendall, turning back to him. And after the creature on their shoulder digs in his claws, they sigh with a gesture up to him, "And this is Baird."

"We're just, um— we're just like this. It's not a show."

With a half-crooked smile back at Everleigh, they shake their head. "I've never sold my art before, but I— I sketch. I do sketches."

Tiny droplets flash and shimmer in the lights that change with the music, and rain down on dancers and ravers. Colors of bright cerulean blue and neon pink, lost in the ever shifting hues from above stand out in bold glory on the surfaces they land on. Conducting the efforts to make sure everyone enjoys the artistry is Jac.

Somewhere she found paint and, more importantly, she found someone who was willing to share. Blue eyes and red hair along with her infectious excitement are hard to say no to sometimes.

Jac weaves her way through the crowd, jumping and strutting in time to the music. If she's sometimes off balance or lilting a little to her right side, it goes unnoticed in her refusal to let herself be held back. Her path takes her around, skirting past Seren and Everleigh, on route to the stage space where Gatter and Ourania have gathered. And with each third or fourth step she flings paint high into the air so it can fall again by the time she's slipped off.

Brynn tracks Kendall's words with a bit of difficulty but nods slightly. She's more than willing to wait at the bar. She types something into her phone and flashes it to the bartender to get a drink and leans her elbows on the wooden countertop. Gray eyes squint slightly against the flashing lights, and she can both feel the bass moving through her like she always has and hear, even through the earplug, just how sensationally loud everything is. It does make her grin to see Jac having a great time out there with paint 'streamers' being flung everywhere. Glow-in-the-dark paint really is primal!

"Kendall." is replied back as the older guy regards both Baird and the magically transforming rock with curiosity. "Wow, you make it look so easy, it's like I believe I can do it myself!"

With that disingenuous statement, Kendall grins and lifts his glass to toast the two of them, drinks it down, and the now empty glass suddenly turns into a snow globe with a tiny cherry tree blossoming right inside, and instead of snow it looks like cherry blossom petals. Kendall smirks at them and sets it on a nearby table, holds a finger in front of his mouth in the global symbol for silence, then vanishes. If that doesn't drive their curiosity mad…

Of course, if they're looking in the right place, they might see him reappear next to Brynn, but he also picked that moment to make the snow globe emit sparks and revert back to an ordinary empty glass, classic misdirection. And now to see what effect his little trick had on them, hehehe.

"Ready to go?" he adds to Brynn in an aside with a little smirk as he wipes a glob of paint from Jac off his arm, still watching Everleigh and Seren.

Brynn nods gratefully, opting to text Jac and her brothers when they get outside.

Noting the reaction from the pair to her contribution of the neon frog, Everleigh smiles slightly. "I've got a bit of an imagination sometimes," she notes. "Caught up in my own head too much sometimes." Her attention is drawn away in Kendall's direction at his comment about it seeming so easy. When the glass turns into the globe with falling cherry blossoms, an appreciative look is offered towards the creation, but as she looks back to make a comment, Kendall's no longer there. She raises an eyebrow, then looks back to Seren and Baird.

"I'm starting to think I'm the most ordinary guest in the midst of this mad tea party," she says with a tone of amusement. "I'm serious, if you ever do something more than just a sketch, I'd love to buy something for my office. Having even a slice of your imagination would be a lovely thing to have around."

The glass's transformation brings a widening to Seren's eyes. Losing control of their ability, spreading it to places they didn't mean to, wasn't something that happened as frequently since the SOD treatments they took last spring, but—

But then Kendall looks their way with that smile and expression of secrecy, and it clicks. No, they hadn't done that. He did.

He's just like them!

But then he's gone, and mouth halfway opened in exclamation, the words fail to start. Baird's head turns slightly this way and that, seeking signs of the missing trickster but finding nothing more than what his summoner saw. Kendall's disappearance takes a second to sink in, and it's hard to not look disappointed when they accept he's well and truly vanished, but it's something they wrap up quickly. They'll just have to hope New York serendipity might work in their favor again sometime. If nothing else— it's encouragement to get out a little more. Look at the types of people they were missing out on meeting being a homebody! Seren finally looks back to Everleigh with a small smile.

It quickly turns into one accompanied with the reddening of their face, wishing they'd had something to drink so they might stumble less on their words here. Accepting compliments isn't a thing to be done gracefully tonight, it seems. They know enough to say "Thank you," as least. Then their smile widens. "No, Everleigh— someone here's got to be Alice. Might as well be someone as thoughtful as you!" They blink when a splattering of glow-in-the-dark paint hits their arm and the side of their head as Jac flings droplets here and there in her joyful run, letting out a small laugh of surprise at the event as much as what they've said.

Gatter pauses as drops of paint start to fall, eyebrows rising; again, he tugs his glasses down, eying his sleeve as a spatter of bright droplets land on it, glowing brilliantly in the blacklights. Normally this sort of thing only happens after he's gone psychoactive, but he approves; it'll make things that much wilder after.

He glances through the crowd, and spies yet another familiar face; his eyebrows rise even higher. "It's like a work meeting here," he murmurs, probably too quietly for Ourania to pick up. He honestly is surprised to see Jac of all people here; maybe she's following in his footsteps as far as having some absolutely wild years in college goes.

"Familiar face, four o'clock. Cover me?" he asks Ourania, looking over to where Jac is currently paint-raving her way through the crowd. He knows Jac well enough to know that she has a propensity for questions, and while that is, in most circumstances, an absolutely admirable quality, Gatter also knows that the particular demographic of pharmacological distributors he's hoping to deal with respond best without those. "Un instant s'il vous plaît, ma lapin," Gatter says, grinning as he slips his arm free of Ourania's. "Be right back."

"You're too kind," Everleigh replies, though her expression belies that compliments aren't something she's used to in a non-professional capacity. "I suppose Alice does get into some exciting adventures even if she doesn't know what she's stumbling into." As her gaze sweeps over the crowd momentarily, she notes Gatter as he moves through the crowd. "You know… I think that's absolutely appropriate in this case."

“Plus facile à faire qu'à dire,1” Ourania assures, squeezing Gatter’s arm just a bit tighter as a means of encouragement before she lets him go on his mission. She has her own. “Jacquette!” The blonde means to put herself squarely in her niece’s view and distract her from the movements of her partner in drug-related crime.

“Did you get paint all over my nice leathers?” Ourania asks with a scrunching up of her nose, too much mirth in her eyes to suggest any real upset. The paint will come out. Or it won’t, and she’ll buy a new jacket. New shirt, new skirt. This is not the great loss it could have been little more than a year ago. “Where does your mother think you are right now?” That much is asked with good humor as well. She is a permissive aunt. The fun aunt, thank you. Still, it helps to know the cover story if it needs help sticking later.

"All right." With one last snicker as he watches Seren (and Baird) look around for him, Kendall starts for the door with Brynn. It seems like a couple people are all partied out. Kendall, for his part, is definitely feeling some mental fatigue from the crowd in here, and that little trick with Seren brought on a dull headache. Exit stage left.

The laugh that Seren lets out is low but full enough that it still makes its way to Everleigh as the music begins to wind into a transition to another song. "What," the summoner asks with delight, "Is he our Mad Gatter in this scenario?"

It's a rhetorical. Of course he is. And they're living for it and how pleasant this night's seeming like it'll shape up as.

"In the interest of fair warning, I have to tell you again—" Seren notes with some apology. "Whatever he brings back with him, I'm taking it. So if that's not your thing…" And it didn't seem like it was. It's an invitation for Everleigh to make her excuses without feeling bad about it.

They shake their head, shifting their weight and in so doing sending a flare of glowing color down the well-behaved figment sitting on their shoulder. All of his various shades suddenly light up and dance anew. "I'm in the middle of getting over a lot of shit that happened last year, and what better time than tonight to celebrate moving forward?"

Everleigh's return laughter is able to be caught at the suggestion of Mad Gatter. "Sounds like we are making this into a true journey through the looking glass," she notes. "But no need to warn me. I'm well aware of the trouble our Mad Gatter can and undoubtedly will get into, and so long as he doesn't bring something that makes anyone shrink and get squished underfoot, I'm sure a good time will be had by all."

While it's no real indication of if that's something she's interested in looking into, it's pretty clear there's no judgment there. "Getting over a lot of shit is exactly the kind of thing this is a great place for." Although there's no drink in her hand, she holds her hand up as if she had one in a toast. "To moving forward as long as it's not stepping on someone eating mushrooms!"

“I’m with Brynn,” Jac calls out. She motions, a wild movement that sends droplets of paint with it in the direction she’d last seen the older girl, to sort of point her out. But, well there’s a lot of people, and Brynn didn’t really get into the crowd, so Jac isn’t so sure she’s still there. But it’s not a lie, because they did arrive together. Turning back to her aunt, she explains, “I’m going back to the firehouse after.”

Blue eyes skim over Ourania’s jacket and hair for speckles and splatters that might have found their way onto the doctor, never minding the crowd or other familiar faces. No one’s bothered with her so far, so why should she bother with anyone else. She makes a face, mouth twisting slightly as if seeing something she’s unsure of or just doesn’t like. Then, Jac raises both paints of blue and pink and flings dual strings of pigment and binder to criss-cross her aunt’s face and hair. Just like that. “Missed a spot!” is all she offers in explanation.

Gatter steps out of the crowd, his black jacket now festooned with an additional splash of electric blue; the grin on his face seems to suggest he doesn't really mind all that much, though. He gives a tiny nod to Ourania — mission accomplished — but it's Jac he speaks to. "Hello, Jac! Feeling artistic today?"

“Well, if your friend ditches you,” not that Ourania expects any such thing, “let me know. I’ll make sure you get back to where you’re staying.” She pauses, considering the antics of her own she’s about to get up to, then amends. “Or Harry will.” Chances are good he’ll still have his wits about him by the time the night is out.

It’s then that she notes Gatter, mouth twisting into a grin that expresses her excitement to take that trip with him. And for this reason, she doesn’t see Jac’s sneak attack coming. Ourania recoils in surprise when the paint hits her face, eyes shutting instinctively and cringing in on herself.


“It’s Jac,” is a laughing reminder that's given to Ourania. She turns to disappear into the crowd all over again, only there's Gatter. And he did ask her a question. Her first answer is to fling paint at him, too. Since he's there she might as well. Her second is to crow, “It glows!”

The paint as it goes flying hits bystanders, as is the intention, someone with a white curve of paint arcing from brow to jaws flinching as another, less anticipated color strikes her. "Hey!" But it's nothing more than surprise, a hand going to her cheek. When she turns, she reveals the rest of the mark on her face, proving it to be a curling lowercase e with the middle swipe drawn over her eyes. But she doesn't catch sight of the rogue paint-splatterer, and with a nudge from a friend of hers whose face is painted similarly, she goes back to the music.

"Aanstande!" the boy next to her yells up to the stage, along with what's surely a poorly-accented, "Je bent geweldig!"

But it's enough that the deejay on the stage looks up with a cockeyed grin as the beat of the next song settles across the floor— something decidedly more upbeat in tone to mellow out the darker bend of the previous song.

I feel so alive
I've never felt this way before and
It must be you and I
It's got me thinking 'bout us more as these
Bright lights they put me in a daze and I
Can't stop thinking 'bout the way that you
Move around up and down on that stage as your

Future vibes

The girl loses herself in the music again, head arching back while she dances. No harm, no foul. She goes back to enjoying the music easily, eyes tracing the various lights and their shadows above.

Gatter gets a hearty splattering of paint, though thankfully not on the face — he's able to avoid the worst of that, thankfully, as he doesn't think he could rock the Braveheart look as well as Ourania is. His jacket, however, now bears splatters of radiant electric blue.

He shakes his head as Jac departs, grinning… then nods at the change of song, bobbing to the music. One hand slips into a pocket and pulls out a battered, timeworn Altoids case, popping it open — the tabs inside, though, while almost certainly strong and definitely curious, are not mints, and are in fact a very recent addition to the case. He extends it to Ourania.

O carefully wipes her fingers over her lids to make sure there’s no paint in danger of getting in her eyes before she opens them again. And rolls them with a sigh and a ghost of a smile on her lips. It’s hard to get mad at Jac, and that’s without taking into account their family ties. Certainly she’d done something equally devil-may-care at Tartarus. What goes around…

The shift in music is a welcome one. It gives Ourania a chance to feel like she’s reset. When she turns back to her like-minded colleague, it’s with a devious little grin. There’s a moment taken to make her selection that’s just for show. She glances up at him just before she plucks up a tab. “My fiancé’s a hitman!” she warns over the pulse of the music. “Keep that in mind if this is all a very clever murder plot.”

Ourania pops the tab, brows lifting once over the spark of mischief in her eyes. “I’m kidding!” she promises.

She absolutely is not.

"I hope not!" Gatter exclaims, grinning, as he snaps the case closed. "If it is, they've already gotten me too!"

His grin widens. "Now… come on! Let's go share the fun!" He gestures for her to accompany him, and starts dancing his way through the crowd towards where he'd parted with Seren.

Now these bright lights they put me in a trance and I
Feel like I can do it all if I want is a
Good life; that I really want is those

Future vibes

The music continues to plink and roll overhead, notes crashing down in a wave amongst the crowd as brighter colors envelop the revelers. Blues and greens and yellows dance their way through the dancers, and when Gatter and Ourania find Seren and Everleigh again, they're doing their own shades of dancing. Baird's grown a human body from which his peacock chest puffs, helping him be a dance partner to his summoner as they shuffle back and forth. His long trail of tailfeathers continue to glow as they tumble down his back, but he's nonplussed by the curious looks he gets.

I got those future…

I got those future vibes

Curiouser still is the curious find Gatter brings back with him, which Seren apprises themself to a small dose of almost immediately. They let out a bright laugh when they notice the colors begin to change around them in ways they're not directly responsible for, but their ability wastes no time in playing with the perceived effects to make them actual. Shapes dance in the light, and neon sprites take form above them all, glowing and swooping back and forth, changing hue in belated time with the music.

Mushrooms and flowers bloom overhead, visions of cities and other lives dance above the crowd along with them. The happy things people imagine come to life in phantoms all around them, all while Seren smiles and sways, finding dance partners in the familiar faces of people they know and people they don't as the night winds on.

It's so easy to lose track of time here and forget about the tomorrow that lies ahead.

When in Wonderland, right?

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License