They called it The Dark City, probably because they really thought of it that way. IT was their loss, though, to just write it off like that... For the city had another nickname: City of 1000 Stars. That was the one anyone who actually knew the city, it's 16 hour night and all, called it. Crime, dirt and danger aside, the city was fundamentally alive in a way few were anymore. The undertown, a truly cyberpunk cavern under the city with full skyskrapers coming from the ceiling (and never touching the ground) and vice versa, was one of the livelier places even in the City of 1000 Stars. Hovercars and other flying modes of transportation shot high above the heads of pedestrians, criss-crossing the sky with neon as they flew. The undertown was mostly lit up with neon. It suited the style of the place, especially here in the centre of the town. The skyskrapers, the signs, even the sidewalk in some places was inlaid with various colours of neon. Truly, a ravers paradise.
At least, it was in
Alcide's opinion. And as far as the Cheshire Cat was concerned, his was the only opinion that was important. Well, for now. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate others; quite the contrary! He just didn't know anyone else on the street, rendering him his own most important person for the moment.
Alcide had just come from one of his favourite places - a rave. No, not a specific rave (though this *had* been a good one) but just a rave that he'd found while walking. That was part of the beauty of the undertown. If you knew where to walk at night, you'd almost certainly find a rave. Gods know, Alcide certainly had. It was fairly obvious, too, based off of the myriad of glowing objects - bracelets, necklaces, earrings, even an oral glowstick that lit his mouth up pink - that adorned his lithe, small frame, the faint smell of sweat and alcohol he was giving off and the black light paint that spattered his mostly-grey fur. Not that it would be hard to tell otherwise. He was wearing a pair of raver pants and no shirt, per normal, his ears were pierced up 12 ways to Sunday and he had a small, conical eyebrow stud. So, remnants of a rave or not, it was hard to mistake Alcide for anything but a cyberpunk undertown raver.
Which, to be sure, suited the smallish Cheshire cat just fine. He hummed a fast-paced song as he walked along the street, a little tipsy, arms held straight out to balance as he tried to walk on the neon line burned in front of him. It worked better than might be expected for someone tipsy - after all, he was a cat. Alcide paused for a moment, then smiled up at the neon-streaked sky. It was something especially beautiful when alcohol clouded your vision (even if only a little).
Man, I love this town, he thought, continuing his happy search for his next party of the evening. The night was yet young, and Alcide certainly wasn't one to waste the nightlife of the Dark City...
((Note - I'd prefer if no more than a couple people joined... I don't like huge RPs ^^; They get too confusing for me. Also, please try to be somewhat active in your replies and somewhat lengthy about what you say. I'm not always this wordy (gods no! It's a first-post thing) but I can't say I like sentence or two long replies either. I try to put a lot of thought and detail into what I write, and I would appreciate it greatly if you would return the favour.
That's all... If you're still interested, please, reply away!))