Ben was about to rapidly depart, except the sounds of the strumming had him dawdling on his way to the door and the lyrics that went with it had him pausing at the doorway, his hand on the knob. He looked back at the form he could no longer properly see on the couch, though his hearing allowed him to pick up more than Daniel was likely expecting him to hear. He suspected that Daniel wasn\'t even aware Ben was still in his house, so lost was he in his music. The process fascinated Ben, who\'d always been able to write entire journals without pause (and in turn this fascinated others), but had never been able to imagine music, like he\'d been able to imagine his words structured on a page. It was like a hardcopy of his constant thoughts, and it was one thing that always seemed to get his thoughts in order - for he was constantly barraged by them. He guessed Daniel might be the same way - that the music was linear, hypnotic, and he was his most himself.
It felt like spying, after a few minutes passed, and Ben let himself out without another word, quietly closing the door behind himself, but not forgetting the strange but lovely melody that Daniel was working on. He went to his apartment to unpack, and was a lot more hopeful about facing a new city, now that he was armed with knowledge about an easier existence, thanks to a place called Liquid Empire, and thanks to Daniel for telling him about it.
* * * * *
BEN FOUND HIMSELF SITTING IN a booth at the Liquid Empire club. He\'d imagined it to be much like Risk, but the club was more like a nightclub with a hotel attached, if the signs and information notices were correct.
After he\'d entered the club, feeling the pulse of music before he heard it, and before he could smell the blood that seemed to pour out the door on the scent of sweat. The smell of sex wasn\'t anywhere near the levels it had been in Risk, and for this Ben was grateful. After going inside and immediately up some stairs, he turned left to find himself near a bar that extended along the left wall beside him and then did a ninety degree turn right to follow along the next wall, and all the way (surprisingly) into what was obviously the dancefloor. A DJ booth could be seen suspended above the dancefloor, and the music was mostly electronica, though there were multiple melodies interjected into it that made it interesting to listen to. Ben wasn\'t usually a fan of techno, but this was like a few levels above and beyond techno - like it followed that style but wouldn\'t be enslaved by it.
His gaze found two sets of metal stairs (on wire suspension) which made everything feel modern and minimilstic. The mezzanine level followed around the dancefloor, so that people above could look down on the dancers. Another bar was upstairs too, but Ben was more interested in the booths he could see - much better than the stools bolted around small modern bartables designed to hold a couple of drinks and nothing else, which he had scattered on the floor level where he was at.
He moved further in, not wishing to risk a comment from any clubgoers behind him, and on impulse went upstairs. He immediately saw booth tables and smelled meals, obviously there was a kitchen as well as a bar up here. He could see a few booths (which sat six comfortably, due to the horseshoe shape) were filled with vampires, or mortals, mostly segregated. He found that unusual, but upon reading the notice that was pinned up on a board very close to the stairs, he realised there were \'drinking rooms\' on two floors above them, and access could be achieved via the elevator down the short corridor on his right. Blinking at that information for a moment, Ben found a smaller booth (which would sit four instead of six), tucked away in a place that was not designed to hold anyone that wanted to be \'seen on the scene\', and found himself being questioned by a waitress if he wanted anything to drink. She recommended the AB+ because it was fresh. Stunned, he agreed to a glass of it, and she scribbled it down before making her way to the next booth.
He sat where he was for about five minutes, undisturbed until the waitress returned with his drink - served in a warmed tall glass - and was surprised once again when she said it was complimentary for newcomers, declining even a tip. He wondered how regular the regulars were and contemplated this even as he began to sip the blood out of the glass. He was only halfway through his drink when he caught someone else\'s attention.