Wishes and Dreams

"He sits quietly, unobtrusive amidst the sea of moving bodies as he often does. He seems rather innocuous compared to most, though if others were to draw close his features would be striking enough. He looks different for everyone who glances his way...mostly. They see what they want to see. Some see little more than a junkie trembling and quaking in the throes of detox as his last fix wanes in his blood. Others see a dark shaded boy barely old enough to drink lifting a glass of scotch to his ruddy lips. Some see a woman, scantily dressed, looking for her next John. The music in this place is mild and faded into the background, the place where all the late-nighters journey after last call has been sung and the doors barred. This is the place for those who seek refuge in the night and haven't found it in someone else's bed. It is where he waits; this is where he watches and seeks. Long fingers fumble against the small vial at his neck - every genie must have its bottle and it - as well - is whatever he wishes for it to be. To the young woman glancing his way he is disheveled, late 40s with drab dyed-blond hair, fingering a wedding ring looped through a chain about his throat. To this one, the vision's mascara is smudged, her eyes are bloodshot...as though perhaps she's recently divorced. It doesn't really matter. Occasionally someone sees him for what he really looks like, which is not so damning and frightening as the stories like to make it out to be. Those who see him as he is, for the white hair and the pointed ears, the molten glow in his slitted eyes - those are the ones he is waiting for."
“He sits quietly, unobtrusive amidst the sea of moving bodies as he often does. He seems rather innocuous compared to most, though if others were to draw close his features would be striking enough. He looks different for everyone who glances his way…mostly. They see what they want to see. Some see little more than a junkie trembling and quaking in the throes of detox as his last fix wanes in his blood. Others see a dark shaded boy barely old enough to drink lifting a glass of scotch to his ruddy lips. Some see a woman, scantily dressed, looking for her next John. The music in this place is mild and faded into the background, the place where all the late-nighters journey after last call has been sung and the doors barred. This is the place for those who seek refuge in the night and haven’t found it in someone else’s bed. It is where he waits; this is where he watches and seeks. Long fingers fumble against the small vial at his neck – every genie must have its bottle and it – as well – is whatever he wishes for it to be. To the young woman glancing his way he is disheveled, late 40s with drab dyed-blond hair, fingering a wedding ring looped through a chain about his throat. To this one, the vision’s mascara is smudged, her eyes are bloodshot…as though perhaps she’s recently divorced. It doesn’t really matter. Occasionally someone sees him for what he really looks like, which is not so damning and frightening as the stories like to make it out to be. Those who see him as he is, for the white hair and the pointed ears, the luminescence in his pale eyes – those are the ones he is waiting for.”

The Bar:

The Barrel Joint – [Cerberus Xing] IW / MP and [ContraptioN] IW / MP This fully furnished skybox, designed with the air and atmosphere of the 1920’s speak easy. Incredibly detailed and elaborate set, this bar is currently available at the 6th Republic. Teleport to event.

Coat:

Double Fur Coat – Gabriel IW This item is currently available at the November round of The Men’s Department. Teleport to event.

Hair:

Knot – Tableau Vivant IW / MP

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