[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/1fzVP45.png[/img] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w88d-uKh_Uw]♪[/url][/center] Garish lighting scarred one’s eyes, afterimages of searing spotlights interspersing with disco balls and lasers, while one’s organs vibrated in sync with the heaving of human bodies, with the thrumming of overblown bass. Illicit substances traded with handshakes and shared pipes, from self-rolled cigarettes jammed with personal mixtures to oversized constructions of glass and steel that looked more at home in a chemist’s labs. The DJ, six-armed and heavily-pierced, roared out with the ferocity of a barbarian into his megaphone while his feet turned the records and adjusted the dials, four massive screens behind him practically blinding those closest to him with shotgun blasts of hypnotizing visuals. Overhead, the sprinkler systems turned on and off in erratic bursts, eliciting squeals as cold water touched burning skin, the lack of proper ventilation gradually turning the place into a humid hothouse of human fumes. The energy of the Rainy Day Nightclub, frenetic and bursting at the seams, perfectly exemplified all of humanity’s worst inhibitions, vices running rampant within the damp, underground cesspool. And Regina loved every second of it. Dressed like some sexual deviant of a doctor, in which her labcoat did absolutely nothing to hide the cybergoth combination of leather straps and metal studs wrapped around her lithe form, the woman leaned against the bar counter with a long, satisfied sigh, her pale green bangs clinging stickily to her pallid skin. The devil-motifed mask she had over her lower face glowed in the gloom with each exhale, curious vials of sanguine liquid attached to both sides fizzing within the glass. Though her obsessions may have made her out to be some psychotic workaholic who modified herself until her physiology barely resembled that of a normal human, that didn’t meant Regina was bereft of all human desires. Having fun, every once in a while, made her feel as young as she was, while keeping an eye on all the dirty little aberrants running amok in Brookside kept her own designs creative too. Sure, her colleagues had [i]useful[/i] mutations, but these people? They had [i]interesting[/i] ones. Not that she was here for pleasure alone. A trail of evidence and information that her little darlings had collected over the last few days pointed towards this nightclub in particular as a place of interest. Nuclear weaponry and anti-mutant supremacists, how spicy! If there was a way to finesse things so both issues could be solved without this wonderful little petri dish being turned into a warzone like the train, that would be wonderful too. Perhaps a bit of tracking, a bit of subterfuge, a bit of poison… She pulled her mask off, revealing thin, bloodless lips and a tongue that stretched on for too long, before taking a sip of a vile little concoction that the bartender brewed up, one that’d probably blind half the imbibers if they drank more than three shots of it. …but, as expected, Steel’s still got her shit together. A hiss escaped before her lips. Her thumb pushed a stray strand of hair of her eyes as she caught the glances of those that entered the nightclub. And, with the languid grace of someone accustomed to not giving a shit, Regina raised a glass towards them. A toast, to the imminent closure of the Rainy Day Nightclub.