Bad Trip in Wonderland


brian_icon.gif peyton_icon.gif teo_icon.gif thalia_icon.gif wendy_icon.gif

Scene Title Bad Trip in Wonderland
Synopsis An evening at a night club takes a strange turn when Peyton's eyes fail her in strange ways. Thalia and Brian look on as Wendy tries to help.
Date July 29, 2009

Mad Manhatter's

Mad Manhatter's is one of the newest hot spots in the city — blacklight causes the psychedelic decor to glow. Instead of chairs, there are over-sized mushrooms and toadstools painted in swirling patterns. In one corner, there's a curving couch that's shaped like a caterpillar smoking a hookah pipe. Cheshire grins appear in various places in the large club: in short, it's inspired by Alice in Wonderland. Of course, in such a place, the patrons come dressed to look their best under the black light. And of course, the psychedelic hues inspire the patrons to partake of various drugs — both legal and otherwise. Alcohol flows like water, but more contraband stuff can be found.

One corner is set up with a stage, and tonight is karaoke night. The other side of the small club is the bar — a mirror of course, and the drinks are served on coasters that look like cards.

Dancing in the middle of the dance floor, despite the fact that the person giving the rendition of "You Spin Me Round" sounds like a howling wolf, is Peyton. She's already three sheets to the wind, stumbling now and then when others bump into her.

Wendy's right there with her. Had proposed the place even. She'd found it to be fun, might as well right? That and she liked Peyton. party girl. Not as drunk as Peyton though, she's still more than a little tipsy/happy and writhing her hips to the old song and laughing at the slaughtered tones.

Sitting at the bar and looking around the place is Thalia. Dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a black tank top, the woman's light blue eyes scan the bar. She is trying to relax, since coming to New York. She hasn't found a moment to herself yet. Now is the night.. or at least so she thinks.

Dark club. Shiny club. Music throbs through Teo's head like a migraine, but he knows it isn't one, not yet. Neither his younger incarnation at twenty-six nor the one a decade his senior had been particularly averse to the club scene, so he isn't sure why the effect that subwoofer bass and fleeting snatches of perfume on him is doing detriment to his mood.

He's found himself a little pocket of solace back in the corner of a bar room, in vague view of the dancefloor. Has his back propped up against mirror-glass, his features blank, turned inward, trying to locate an internal center or possibly pondering marijuana or something; it's difficult to tell.

Peyton's eyes flit around the room, taking in the various sights. Suddenly her eyes alight on someone she knows. "Want some E?" she yells into Wendy's ear, hand cupping so the sound is audible above the booming bass of the song that's finally coming to an end. She arches a brow at Wendy and dances over to the dealer, who grins at the sight of the party girl. Her arms go up and rest on his shoulders as she moves against him, then moves her lips to his ear to make her request known.

Temptation is great. One little pill. Wendy knows the effects of E and many a night had been enhanced by it. But she's got a shiney 3 year token tucked away in her studio that gives her the courage to decline. "No Pey, but you go ahead. I'll make sure you don't get to bad!" Nothing in the rules says she has to stop others from abusing drugs and E.. is.. E.

"Well lookie here." Says a man's voice, followed by a whistle. The scumbag loser is sitting at the bar with a few of his friends, eyeing Thalia up and down.

The woman in question raises an eyebrow and looks sideways at the men. "Oh my god." She says putting hand over her mouth. "You are just like totally hot!" she says with a snicker and rolling of her eyes.

"Hey bitc-." He doesn't get to finish before Thalia is reaching for his wrist, which pressure is put on and it's bent to a certain angle. "Don't.. ever call me that." She whispers in his ear before licking it.

Ecstasy, pot. Drugs would, after all, inevitably make this situation somewhat more palatable. Teo's right brow digs downward, tilting the scowl on his face into something almost wryly lopsided. He evicts a sigh out of his lungs, hard enough to make his shoulders slump a fraction of an inch underneath the cotton of his sweater. He tucks long, work-roughened hands into his pockets, slowly lists away from the wall. Proceeds to edge around the bright lights and giggly-gaited stilettoes as if he were trying to make himself small around an African watering hole. Which is, honestly, sort of what he's doing.

"Come onnn, Wendy-bird," Peyton whines. She slips something into the dealer's pocket while dancing close, and he pulls out a Tic-Tac container, to tap out two tablets. Who doesn't love a drug that comes in candy containers and looks like something you get on Valentine's Day? They're little pink tablets with red lips printed on them today. Peyton gives the dealer a schnapps-flavored kiss before dancing back to Wendy to hold open her palm. Her eyes slide across the bar, noticing the girl bending back the loser's wrist, then Teo as he slouches away from his wall.

It is like some serengetti watering hole. The two wildebeast daring to drink from the water that has the crocodiles in it. THe pacing lioness, waiting for the rest of the herd to get close. The Giraffe's ambling around, long necked, watching. Wendy purses her lips before she sticks her tongue out, as if waiting for the communion wafer. It's a little Pill of E. Just one. It will not kill her and drive her all the way back down that nasty habit she had. Has. Whatever.

"Argh!" The loser man yells out and a few patrons turn to look at Thalia and the man but she doesn't keep a hold on him for long. "Thank you." She says quietly to nobody in particular as she leans back against the bar, the man holding his wrist and glaring at Thalia.

Her eyes land on Teo for a brief moment but she looks around at other people and places. There's a certain air about her.. like she doesn't want to talk to people, but she came to a bar.

Peyton grins and picks up one of the pink little pills to place on Wendy's tongue. "There's my girl," Peyton says and then pops the other pill in her own mouth. She begins to dance again — the music has changed, and now it's someone who actually sounds like they have more talent than a caterwauling tomcat. The woman sings "Wake Me Up" By Evanescence while her date shouts out the yelling parts. "Bar fight," Peyton nods to the guy getting worked over by Thalia. Peyton spins, a whirl of purple and black, as the blacklight changes her the white of her black and white striped dress into that eerie lavender.

Wendy snickers. "Strike out!" And goes about to letting the pill dissolve on her tongue. There's still some time yet before the E will kick in.

"There. And there's a little extra, just to ensure you have a minor case of alzheimers about this. Understood?"

"Got it."

"Good. Thank you. I will keep in contact if I need anything else." Comes the smoothly delivered words coming from an extremely well dressed man over in one corner. Through a surreptitious exchange, a small brown is exchanged from the man he was standing with and is placed inside the first man's coat. Then a much smaller delivery is given vice versa. The well dressed man takes a step away and makes his way towards the bar.

Winters adjusts the package now residing inside his coat. Unlike the other kids, his exchange tonight is not drugs. But good luck finding out what it is! A smirk pulls at his lips as Thalia releases the man she was previously hurting. "Charming." He says fluidly before making his order at the bar. Though Brian seems like he should be at an executives meeting rather than a club, he seems to be socializing fairly well. If by socializing you mean staring at the bartender while ordering something non-alcohol-y tasting.

Thalia nods her head to the music and orders a shot of vodka along with something else, as the man makes her drink she slides her gaze over the guy whose wrist she hurt. "Got something else to say?" she leans in, in which the guy leans back and mutters before walking away with his friends. Who all look shocked.

When Brian speaks the woman looks at him with a light grin, "He was an ass. Could tell from right away." Thalia shrugs her shoulders and knocks back her shot and then taking a sip of her other drink.

As Peyton dances, things begin to go … well, strange. Suddenly, though she's looking at Wendy's face, she sees the ground below. A second later, the microphone in front of her, though it's 40 feet away on stage. And then the ugly mug of the guy scowling at Thalia, but up close as if he's just three feet away. "What the fuck…" Peyton stammers, shaking her head and spinning around to find the dealer. "What the fuck did you give us, Fred?" she yells, but the bass is so loud he doesn't hear her. She stumbles as she tries to take a step in his direction — suddenly instead of what's in front of her, she sees the mirrored surface of the bar reflecting the bartender's face up at her, as if it were her own.

"And unattractive." Brian notes, "Which makes him an all around bad person. And forgettable." Winters explains as if describing a lesson to a class. Complete with whiteboard and all. Once his own drink is delivered, (considerably more colorful and fruity than Thalia's) he takes a delicate sip before setting it back down.

Placing his back to the bar, he leans against it, propping his elbows on top of the thing as he gazes out into the crowd.
"Already forgotten." Thalia says and takes another pull from her drink. She looks at Brian up and down and smiles. "Dressed a little fancy for here, aren't we?" eyebrows raised and head tilted in his direction. Peyton is noticed, but what girl doesn't act crazy at clubs and bars? Right?

Somehow — between the strange, nonsensical sights — Peyton manages to catch up with Fred, the short man in the lilac-gray zoot suit. For a drug dealer, he's usually pretty charismatic. She's wide-eyed and grabs him by the silver tie. "What the hell did you give me, Fred? That shit's not supposed to kick in for like an hour, and I'm already seeing…" she closes her eyes and covers her eyes with the palms of her hands, rubbing as if to blot out whatever she sees. "Oh, god, this is not good." The perspectives keep shifting, and she's already had five martinis.

Fred, now that Peyton has let go of his tie, makes his way for the exit. He thought his drugs were quality, but who knows, maybe his supplier cut them with something nasty.

A few people begin to whisper. "I think that's Peyton Whitney…" Cell phones come out and snap pics, take video as Peyton falls to her knees, covering her eyes.

"This is what I mow my lawn in." Brian answers flatly, nursing his drink. His attention drawn to the girl freaking out in the middle of everything he purses his lips together. Idly wondering what he could possibly benefit from being the good samaritan and aiding this girl, he instead settles on a stool and watches for now. Another sip.

"Waste of money." Thalia says with another sip of her drink. She's just watching too. Somebody has to come and help her right? The woman cracks her neck from side to side. "Idiots and their drugs."

Wendy doesn't feel anything strange yet — she knows she shouldn't, but maybe Peyton's gotten a bad pill? She kneels down and helps Peyton up, trying to pull her out of the center of the dance floor where people won't be tripping on her. "Come on, Peyton…" she says.

"I'm calling 9-1-1!" some helpful Samaritan tells Wendy.

Great. Just what they need. "No, it's okay, I'll get her home."

"Wendy, thank God, help me, I can't…" Peyton says, staring up at Wendy when suddenly things shift and she is seeing something not even in the room — she's suddenly seeing the street outside, a cab, the door opening, and then Wendy's face again before it morphs into Brian's, from Thalia's perspective. "Oh, God, I can't see right, it's all wrong, it's all wrong!" she wails, bending again and spilling the five pomegranate martinis onto the floor. Unfortunately, it's all rather red and someone starts screaming that she's vomiting blood.

"Sorry babe. We can't all dress like you." Brian notes, finishing his drink he tilts his head inquisitively at Peyton as she spills right in front of him. Glancing down at the vomit, he is quickly able to tell that that is not in fact blood. But still, vomiting in a club and not in the toilets, while not uncommon is gross.

Pursing his lips, he goes to stand. "She needs to get to a hospital." Winters notes helpfully!

"Nyeah, what can I say? I'm a simple kind of girl. In some things." She says with a raised eyebrow. "Thalia." She says, the first person in the city to know her name! Peyton is looked at, "She has a friend though.. I would hate to be her friend now though."

"They're on their way!" the Samaritan yells. Wendy nods, trying to pull Peyton into a sitting position though the girl is sobbing and covering her eyes, refusing to look at anything. "Peyton, you with me? We're getting help. The paramedics are coming."

"It is Peyton Whitney!" some people whisper to one another, and more cameras come out, taking pictures of the socialite, now sprawled on the ground, back against one of the giant mushroom chairs, a puddle of red vomit nearby. That will make a lovely picture for the tabloids and websites, to be sure. Wet trails of mascara streak the girl's face, though her eyes are still covered by her hands.
Soon the sirens can be heard and the club bouncers start pushing people out. It's almost curfew, anyway.

"Simple." Brian says with an amused pursing of his lips. "I suppose that's a good word for it." Rolling his eyes over to Thalia, he gives a nod. "I had a sister named that. Very nice to meet you, Thalia." Placing his glass on the bar, he takes a step away. "Make sure you don't step in the blood-vomit!" He advises helpfully before making his way for the exit

"Ah don't you worry about me, honey." Thalia calls out, "Watch out for those pretty shoes." She says with a final swallow of her drink and she looks down at Peyton before shaking her head. "I don't have time.." she mutters, back to what she came to the city for. And out she goes.

The paramedics push their way in past the crowd that's being ushered out. The two EMTs kneel by Peyton, asking her questions but she's too distraught to make any sense, at least too them. Perhaps too late, her words make sense to Wendy — that she's "seeing everything wrong, that nothing's right." As Peyton had assumed it was the drug she'd just taken, Wendy had, too. But now it's time to slip away, because tripping out on E while at a hospital is bad news. She tells Peyton she'll call her in the morning and leaves the sobbing girl in the hands of the paramedics who aren't equipped to handle the non-medical emergency.

The paparazzi lays in wait outside to snap pictures of the stretcher as the EMTs carry Peyton to the ambulance. The evacuated club members fill in the gaps: "She was vomiting blood." "She was screaming about having visions." "She was on drugs and attacked the drug dealer." The various stories will make it into the gossip columns by morning. Meanwhile, Peyton Whitney will spend the night having her stomach pumped and then under observation in the psych ward, alone and frightened.

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