Open

Sep. 21st, 2015 03:27 am
hardertohide: (frowny thoughtful)
[personal profile] hardertohide
A Google search on vampires was never going to be the answer to any of Dutch's questions, but a foray into the deep web, that was another story. Now she looked twice at the sellers offering up vampire blood on the Silk Road, rather than dismiss them as people preying on the credibility of weirdos. At the websites offering up a night with a vampire of your choice. At those advertising humans offering up their blood for money.

Chances were, some of them were fakes. Chances were, some of them weren't.

She'd come across the name of a club here in London, a name which kept popping up in her searches. The Blood Diamond. She headed there in a red tee, skinny jeans and her usual boots, with no plans to check her jacket in at the door. She'd taken a leaf out of Buffy's book and wore a silver cross pendant, just in case that shit worked, and the reason why there was no way she was leaving her jacket was that there was a stake in the inside pocket.

Hey, that arsehole the other night hadn't liked the threat of wood.

It was just her kind of club, when she was in the mood to lose herself somewhere, so it was a good thing she was there on a mission. The music was loud, and the crowd was a little wild and more than a little dark in a lot of ways. Out of paranoia, she ordered a bottled beer and kept her eyes on it after the bartender popped the cap, until it was in her hand. It was good beer, but her mind wasn't on that. She wandered around, smiled at people who smiled at her without ever being inviting about it, and generally checked the place out.

It didn't take her long to figure out that yes, this was a vampire club. And that yes, people were being drunk from. It also didn't take her long before she felt like she was being watched. Best not to overstay her welcome and take her leave before she ended up being dinner. The scar on her neck, mostly hidden by her hair, still itched as it finished healing. She abandoned her half drunk beer on a corner of the bar and headed back out into the night.

"Where you headed, love?" someone called after her as she hurried off. Male voice, young, Estuary accent. At least it wasn't the same vampire as last night, if it even was a vampire. Could also be a regular specimen of male idiot.

"People to see, places to be," she replied dismissively over her shoulder as she shrugged her jacket on, grateful for the feeling of the stake.

"C'mon, there's no rush," the bloke insisted, his voice coming closer. "Stay a while."

"I'm not interested," she told him dryly, glancing back at him. He looked young, too, but who knew. She really hoped he was just a regular specimen of male idiot.

"You can't know that yet," he insisted, flashing a charming smile at her as he fell in stride with her, typical can't-take-no-for-an-answer behaviour.

"I do," she insisted, and stopped walking. There weren't many passers-by here at this hour, but every one of them felt like a reason she was safe, right now. "Look, I'm not in the mood. Get lost."
sunsongs: (radio in my head)
[personal profile] sunsongs
“Grab another drink, stretch your legs, do what you’ve gotta do. Just don’t go too far, ‘cause we’ll be back in a few,” Coby says, with a wink for the crowd and a nod to the rest of the band. He finished off the rest of his beer as he followed the other guys off-stage. Dave and Brion headed straight for the bar, and Máire turned toward the ladies’ room, but Coby made a left to go around back of the stage and out the side door.

“Ten minutes, yeah?” the manager reminded him on his way out, either not noticing or not caring when Coby shoved half a brick against the doorjamb to keep it from closing behind him. He really didn’t feel like walking around to the front to get back in, and who knew if somebody would hear him knocking.

The night air was cool after the closeness of the bar and the charge he always got performing, and his skin prickled at the sudden change as he leaned against the wall and breathed deep. The bar was on a corner, the door he’d come out opening on a smaller street than the main entrance, but this time of night there were still plenty of people walking by. Coby hadn’t even been in London two weeks yet; getting caught lighting up on a public sidewalk wasn’t the idea. He still got out his lighter, but for a Marlboro that brought too many memories along with it. Marlboros were Javi’s brand, and the hypocritical bastard had had no problems puffing away on one while telling Coby he shouldn’t smoke so much ‘cause it would fuck up his voice.

“Damn it, Coby, gotta stop with this shit,” he muttered to himself, then glared at the person who’d paused, maybe trying to decide if he was talking to them or just crazy.

Crazy, was the answer, but he tried not to be too obvious about that kind of thing. Besides, that was the idea behind coming to London, right? Get away from things for awhile to get his head on straight again.


[not Coby's specific set list for the night, but for anyone wanting an idea of what it's like - or who just feels like listening to Steve Carlson - a a playlist on youtube]

Open

Aug. 25th, 2015 01:10 pm
hardertohide: (Default)
[personal profile] hardertohide
Dutch was more than a little drunk as she walked out of the club and smiled at the night. For no other reason than it was night, and gorgeous, and the night had been great. But any more fun and she might end up puking on herself; she'd pass. She walked off, a thin figure in black skinny jeans and a slashed-back tank top, and caught the attention of a lone predator. She was trying to type a text to Jade on her phone, while walking, and that required all of her focus, so that she didn't notice that she was being stalked.

She didn't have a clue, even when the stalker in question suddenly appeared by her side, and she smiled at the handsome man. It wasn't long before they were in a small street, snogging like there was no tomorrow. Until, suddenly, the sweet, hot, slightly ticklish sensations of his kisses down her throat switched to sharp pain and she cried out, and tried to push him off, but he was strong, hard, immovable, and he easily held her in place.

It took her drunk brain a few seconds to realise that the bastard was drinking her blood.
jadedjade: (Jay)
[personal profile] jadedjade
Jade knew he was being looked at. Ogled even. He was wearing torn jeans and a shirt, but he knew there were eyes undressing him. And he loved it.

It wasn’t unusual for Jay, the more masculine of his forms, to get this sort of attention. Sometimes he would turn just to see if anyone really was watching him. And when he did spot someone, he would shoot a wink and a charming grin. Oh, it was so easy in this form. It always made him feel good.

It’s why he chose to clean the windows to the hotel late in the afternoon, when people went home from work, or came in to work, or passed to start an early binge at a pub nearby. It was a good time of day to be gawped at.

He would finish soon and that was another nice prospect. His hands were already itching for a fix. He would change, he would buy, and he would indulge. Yes, he was on a slippery slope. Yes, he was running risks. But he felt in control still. And he most certainly felt like spending the night indulging.


((Find him at his hotel as Jay or a bit later as Jade… Wednesday is a great day for partying ;) ))
pecked_by_birds: (Default)
[personal profile] pecked_by_birds
He'd fallen asleep in America. In fact, he'd fallen asleep in America night after night, lost and suddenly so unsure again. Sanity was fading, and he'd fled London in search of stability.
 
He'd woken up in Spain. Skin as dark as the earth he'd been chained to replaced by milky white flesh that looked far too fragile and thin. Though when he stared in the mirror, he saw no fragility. He saw the gaze of a titan, the teeth of a survivor, and the grin of a madman. He should have been upset about that last part.
 
He wasn't.
 
The plane ride had been brief, and upon finding himself back in London, he'd headed straight for the bar.
 
“Whiskey, neat, and don't be stingy, dove,” he purred, soft pink lips spitting out each word as he flashed a little too much teeth with his smile.
 
The barman had gone from charmed to unnerved, as he well should have. Prometheus didn't react though, he only took his drink and surveyed the evening crowd. God he loved London. They were all so lost and so desperate. Love me, notice me, want me. Dull, stupid. His gifts were wasted on these fools, and had he had the strength, he might have burned this pub to the ground, just to remind them all how fragile and brief their lives could be.
 
Lucky for them, he was still a bit weak.
 
One drink became several, and soon he was on his way. He walked with feminine grace, but there was nothing soft about him. Nothing sweet. No one who looked at him would see a fragile woman. Perhaps a queen, perhaps a warrior- The truly perceptive might even see the truth. A titian ripe with madness, armed with charm, intelligence, and a dangerous smile.

OTA

Apr. 8th, 2015 12:27 pm
im_torchwood: (Soldier Blue Vortex)
[personal profile] im_torchwood
After John Hart, after Gray, Jack couldn't be in Cardiff. He was Torchwood now, not just what he did but who he was, and he had a small crisis and had to get away. Although he'd broken with London's Torchwood after the incidents at Canary Wharf (which it seemed the population had either forgotten or written off) Jack found himself in England's jewel. He was ready to make a new start. And, he reckoned, the Doctor would probably visit London before Cardiff if truth be told.

He'd settled into the subterranean Hub that Alice and Emily had worked in. It had been long forgotten in favor of the building of steel and glass that had been built atop it. Bloody Torchwood...they were supposed to be secret. He'd made his contacts and had put himself to work. But even Jack needed to eat.

He had all of the city to choose from and rather than just go to a pub Jack stood on the sidewalk looking at his mobile reading Yelp reviews. There was a place just down the block and around the corner. Yelp was good and all but he kind of wanted a real opinion so he looked up from his screen and he smiled at the first person whose eye he caught.

"Excuse me...do you know if this place is any good?" he asked, showing the screen. His American accent immediately marked him as a tourist, even though he wasn't.

OTA

Apr. 6th, 2015 12:58 pm
codenamearamis: (Messy hair)
[personal profile] codenamearamis
The bar was a small, hole in the wall kind of place, with brick walls accented by dark wood furniture, and red vinyl. A bar took up one wall, shelves of liquor lined up behind it, and tables and booths were splayed out in front of it. Beyond that, was a pool table, its felt top a faded green. A few people were playing on it now, finishing up a game as they talked and swigged beer.

Aramis sat at the bar, feet on one of the bar stool’s supports. He glanced to his left as a woman stepped up to the bar to order a drink, then took a sip of his own drink, a bourbon gone a bit watery from melting ice cubes.
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
 The evening was crisp as people flooded the West End for a night of fun. Restaurants and cafe's were full early and late, catering to the theater crowds that came for supper before their shows and dessert after. The theaters had various plays and musicals, many with big name stars- others with up-and-comers. The lights were bright and the atmosphere festive.
 
People wandered up and down the sidewalks and the traffic was thick. In the dark there were pickpockets but for the most part the crowds were safe.
 
It promised to be a good run for most of the shows if the atmosphere was any indication.

OTA

Mar. 4th, 2015 12:01 pm
jadedjade: (smoking)
[personal profile] jadedjade
Was it five years? He’d stopped going to the meetings long ago, but was it five years since he last used? Seemed a life-time. A life-time of good behavior, of setting up his business and working hard. He’d achieved so much in these years. He had a lovely and dedicated work-force, and lived a full life with all four of his appearances.

He kept busy. That was the key to staying clean. Keep busy, work hard. And he knew the importance of staying clean.

And he knew all about the slippery slopes back to drug abuse. And he knew every preachy sermon by heart.

And yet…

And yet, here he was. Buying white powder from a man in an alley. First step down the slippery slope to using again. He knew it. He wasn’t that drunk. He knew what he was doing. He knew that this was a dangerous idea. He knew what drugs could do to the formerly addicted.

Yet his hands ached to have some of it. Now. For no reason except a deep desire to fuck it all and have a good time. Just once. Just tonight. He’d gotten clean once, he could do it again. But not tonight. Tonight he just wanted the wonderful feeling that came with using.

He left the alley to go to a club, or a pub, or anywhere that had a toilet-seat he could use.
anamusebouche: (fallen angel)
[personal profile] anamusebouche
While December had been kind to the city, January had proven to be more fickle. Winter had shown its face, and while it was hardly the roughest ever seen, dark clouds, snow and wind had still dominated the scene.

February could bring anything, but it hardly mattered today. Today, London was bathing in the sun, bringing with it a sense of freshness, clarity and renewal. Spring, while far away meteorologically, was in the air.

It pleased the men and women in the market stalls, selling their wares in the open air. Spring meant happy customers and happy customers were buying customers.


((A generic market GP; tag in, tag all, tag whatever marketplace you like))

OTA

Jan. 28th, 2015 07:42 am
not_a_hero: (pic#2372730)
[personal profile] not_a_hero
It had all happened perhaps a bit faster than Sherlock had at first considered. He'd officially come back from the dead in November, then of course there had been the holidays and general social interactions compounded by most people's anger and mild disappointment with him to weather through, a few actual cases here and there but nothing like the ones he'd enjoyed in the past, and then of course there had been a wedding to plan, which meant now there was... what? His list of current clients was nill, Mrs. Hudson was the extent of his human interaction on days when it wasn't more interesting to feign being deaf and infirm in order to make her get him something without having to exchange pleasantries or profess gratitude, and he could honestly not remember the last time he felt... well, like himself. Like the person he'd had so much fun being before Moriarty's final strike years ago; the Sherlock who did what he wanted and almost always won and had John Watson on call 24/7 for even the simplest of needs. He was far too young to have 'good old days' but nostalgia seemed a prominent feature in his routine now with nothing but an empty chair blocking his path to the kitchen.

This wouldn't do. This wouldn't do at all.

There had to be something interesting to entertain himself with in London's underbelly. Cases, clues, a little something he normally wouldn't be able to get away with--it would be a statistical impossibility for there to be nothing out in his city to make being out and about an improvement over lying prone on the couch, watching crap telly.

Scarf yoked and coat buttoned, Sherlock checked the battery life on his mobile and hurried down the steps of his flat and onto Baker street. It was time to forget about what was and concentrate on the now. And right now, Sherlock Holmes was in dire need of something interesting to interrupt the humdrum of a normal life.

[Bump into Sherlock anywhere in the city or feel free to phone him.]
finlay_flynn: (a mess)
[personal profile] finlay_flynn
When he went out now, after dark, Fin tried to make certain he wasn't alone. Though he'd once wandered the streets alone, late into the night-Back before Willy, back before fame- He now hardly ever risked it at all. ...Not since the letters had started.

"You'll get weird ones," the man from the office had said, as he'd handed Fin his first small bag of 'fan mail'. "Usually harmless, but if you're not certain- Just let one of your people have a look, you know?"

Fin hadn't had 'people' at the time, but after the first disturbing letter from a 'fan', Fin had finally gotten himself a proper manager, instead of just having his mate Mark handle it all in his spare time.

"It's not anything to worry about," his manager had assured him, even as Fin had handed over the second and third letters. "The police can't do much for it, you know? And really, it's just empty threats and fantasies," he'd assured Fin again, as the fourth and fifth letter turned up. Still, though he'd not told Willy about it (for fear the fae would do something mental), Fin had started taking precautions. New locks on the windows and doors, and a new alarm system as well- He made a point of going out with others, and using apps that would send your mates messages if you didn't check in with it at certain times. With the exception of Christmas Eve- A night that had resulted in his drink being drugged- Fin had been terribly careful lately.

Tonight, however, he was just making a quick run to the shops, and it seemed stupid to call Mark or someone- And he was certain he'd forget to check in with his app while he was wandering Sainsbury's looking for that bread he liked. No, it was best just to get on with it, right?

He was halfway home when he realized he was being followed, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as he held his shopping bags tighter and picked up the pace. It wasn't too late, and there were still people here and there- and he was only a block from home now. No reason to panic. No reason to get nervous. He'd get home, lock the door, and everything would be fine.

...His heart was racing though, and in a moment of panic Fin turned down a narrow alley between two buildings to pull out his phone and call a mate. A stupid mistake. A terrible and stupid mistake.

It was all a bit of a blur after that. He could remember someone coming at him, a struggle, a fight... He remembered smacking his attacker upside the head with a heavy glass bottle of juice- and then... And then the stranger had pulled something from his pocket, he'd sprayed something, and then- And then Fin had heard someone calling to them both, and the sound of heavy footfall as his attacker had taken off. Fin had tried to open his eyes then... only to find they were already open wide, simply seeing nothing at all.

Four hours later, he was out of A&E, sitting in a hospital bed, listening to a doctor tell him that there was no way to be certain if his vision would return or not- That even if it did, it would never be perfect. Nearly thirty hours after that, he was outside, a cane in his hand as he pushed his manager away. "I don't need a bloody seeing eye dog," the young actor had snapped. "I can see shadows of things. I'm not going to walk into traffic."

His manager had sighed, the look on his face genuinely sympathetic- Not that Fin could see that. "Fin, you need help. A friend- Maybe a bloody seeing eye dog. You need something, you're not- You aren't ready to be going around on your own. For gods sake, man, ignoring the fact you can't see, you're on more painkillers than half of Hollywood right now."

Fin was tense, holding his cane tightly, and he shook his head. "I don't want to be anyone's burden ever again."

(OTA! If you think Fin would have your pup's number in his cell phone, feel free to assume his manager called your pup to let them know what had happened, since Fin doesn't really have family, and his manager would want to be sure the people in his life were informed. Also, if your pup doesn't know him well/at all, it would have made the news since Fin is a bit of a rising star. Feel free to have your pup step in either way to make sure the stubborn boy doesn't actually go walking into traffic. Late tags are very welcome!)
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
It was Christmas Eve in London, and all around the city people were out and about. Enjoying various parties, grabbing last minute gifts... Enjoying the lights and décor around the city. London was always beautiful, but in December it truly sparkled.

Outside shops, people collected toys and money for charities, hoping for last minute kindness from strangers to make the holiday even brighter for those in need. However, as the night fell, many shops shut early- While many bars and clubs did quite the opposite, opening their doors earlier and inviting people in.

All around there was bustle and lights, making the city appear even more alive than usual.

(Gathering post! Timed to Christmas Eve (day or night), but open all week long! Tag in, tag others, and check back often! Happy Holidays guys!)

OTA

Dec. 1st, 2014 03:36 pm
whispersoflove: (a dare in my eyes)
[personal profile] whispersoflove
It was not just the world of men that Anael liked on the physical plane. Sometimes, like today, he spent hours flying high up in the atmosphere, enjoying riding the winds he found, the ones he pushed on or calmed down. It was the sort of sensations one simply could not find in Heaven.

When he touched down, cloaked from the gaze of men, in a deserted London alley, he was riding that wonderful high. He shed his wings even as he became visible, a little frost still on his hair from his flight. His simple jacket was far from enough to keep a man warm in the current weather, but he did not even realise, and walked out into the streets with no specific goal in mind. Evening had fallen and he let his feet pick the path for him until a pub caught his eye.

He settled at the counter, the frost in his hair finally thawing in the warmth, and gave a friendly smile to the person beside him. "How are you doing tonight?" It sounded less like a line, and more like Anael truly cared about the answer.
yves: (>_>)
[personal profile] yves
It was late- Late enough that the small pup was starting to empty out as the drunks drank their last drop for the night, and the snakes hunting for prey prepared to head home to empty beds.

Yves was polishing off his drink, and as the barman made his way over, he pulled out his wallet to pay.

"Is it alright if I pay half my tab now and the rest tomorrow?" Yves asked, pulling out every last bill he had in his wallet as he spoke.

The barman offered him a sad smile, his gaze drifting to the deep cuts on the pale man's arms, that were never properly hidden- No matter how many leather bracelets he wore, or how often he tugged down his sleeves.

"I'll tell you what, Yves- Let's call it even," the barman said softly, pushing a few of the bills back towards him. "Take a cab home tonight. It's cold out."

The half-elf never knew what to make of kindness and pity, and he shook his head as he pushed the bills back towards the man. "No," he said softly. "It's a short walk, and I promise I'll pay you the rest tomorrow, Bill. ...Thank you, but I'm fine, really," he lied, offering a smile that would fool most as he pulled his coat on and headed out into the night.

Clubbing

Nov. 28th, 2014 08:04 pm
jadedjade: (Jay)
[personal profile] jadedjade
Jade's deal with Willy had ended by now. For a month he'd been in the Fae's service. He didn't remember any of it as such, but he knew he vanished every night and he came back every morning. It didn't matter, though. For these services, he had received a bottle of magic in return. Delicious magic. Magic that made him feel careless, free and good.

He'd loved it and now it was gone and he missed it.

He decided therefore to go out tonight. For that he changed into his masculine form (he could drink more in that form), dressed in a fancy suit that made people think he was well-off, and went clubbing.

He was pleasantly drunk, and the music droned in his ear like a trance. It was nothing compared to the buzz of magic through his nerves or the high of a vampire's bite through his veins, but the night was young still.

He ordered another vodka and downed it. It felt good, sure... But it still nagged at him, and he still missed that little edge that magic had caused him.

((Friday night fun. Meet him at the club of your desire ;) ))

jageskro: (the what now? (smoking))
[personal profile] jageskro
The crowd was a slim one today, and the hat Jag had left on the ground was probably feeling a little neglected. What did people need? He wasn't going to put on as great a show as he did with the circus. Under the tent, he could pretend that he had a lot of material for amazing pyrotechnics. But out here, busking for cash, nobody would believe it if he went too elaborate with his fire tricks.

Still, he finished off with a small fire bird flying one, two, three circles around him before it vanished into thin air, because nobody was paying attention, so… fuck them, yeah.

He picked up the hat, shoved it in his backpack and the few coins in his pocket. Maybe enough for a pint and a snap. It was a start, but it wouldn't do. Fortunately, this was a busy square; he walked as if he knew where he was going, in as much of a hurry as any other Londoner, but already looking out for a good pickpocketing target.


Feel free to say your character saw the little fire bird, or saw him pick somebody's pocket, or caught him trying to pick theirs... Anything goes!

Arrival

Nov. 1st, 2014 12:23 pm
sanctuarywolf: (intense)
[personal profile] sanctuarywolf
It wasn’t a big deal, Henry had insisted on it at least a dozen times. He was doing this because the Sanctuary needed his help. Their security had taken a beating and he was the person best suited to the job. That didn’t change the sad look in Magnus’ eyes, a look he’d seen too often as of late. But there wasn’t any judgement when she’d told him to go and do what needed to be done. Even if he was positive that what he needed was to get away for a while.

It still felt like running away to Henry, and he was sure Helen knew it. The Big Guy had said as much, growling his displeasure and then avoiding him until his departure. That had hurt even more than the way Magnus had looked at him in understanding. He wanted to explain to all of them that he needed this, that maybe they all needed this. It was difficult, there were ghosts in every corridor and he couldn’t deal with them yet. Maybe it was running away, but in order to deal with everything that happened, that was what he had to do.

Which led him here, London. A new city and a new Sanctuary. The systems were barely functioning and he’d spent the first week with his head down, ignoring everyone and everything that wasn’t the security system. He barely even noticed days turning into night, and if it hadn’t been for Declan telling him to take a day off he’d likely still be in the lab.

It's Halloween and a Friday night, he's realised too late, the streets filled with drunken people going from pub to party, some in costume, some not. He didn't think Halloween was a big deal here, but everyone seemed to like an excuse for a party.

The city wasn’t what he’d expected, though he wasn’t quite sure what he had been expecting. It was busy, busier than Vancouver and what he was used to. It was much larger, so that shouldn’t have been that surprising. He just hadn’t been prepared for the reality, he thought as someone pushed past him on the street.

“Watch it,” he mumbled, the person already vanished into the moving throng.

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter,” he muttered to himself. He believed it too, until he went for his wallet to pay for a sandwich and a can of coke.

“Dammit.” Henry swore, and shook his head at the salesgirl, stepping out of line of people already agitating for him to move. “I ah- Sorry. I’ll have to come back.”
londoncallingmods: (Default)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
Every year, for the past four, one of the most exclusive clubs in London had a Halloween themed costume party to raise money for the British Red Cross. Cover was higher than usual (fifty pounds rather than forty), but the drinks were a little cheaper and there was a buffet provided by one of the hottest restaurants in town.

Costumes were required, and so for a change the VIP area was home to even more unusual garb than the dance floor.

It really was a sight to see.

OTA

Oct. 22nd, 2014 08:22 pm
willysilver: (Come Hither)
[personal profile] willysilver
There was little Willy enjoyed more than playing for an audience. He'd arranged tonight to play at the Alpha and stood on the small stage with his guitar. The lighting was hot but he didn't sweat. He glistened as if doused with dew and glitter. His hair was particularly unruly, but his voice was sweet and his chords true and clear.

Lady, running down to the riptide
Taken away to the dark side
I wanna be your left hand man
I love you when you're singing that song
And I got a lump in my throat
'Cause you're gonna sing the words wrong...


The crowd was thick, but really not that many people. The bar was just too small for that. Willy sang some Vance Joy, some Hozier, a soulfully slowed down Ella Eyre song, that radio hit by Echosmith for some variety, and played the first few chords of an Ed Sheeran tune which he deftly changed when he was met with groans. He turned it into a composition of his own and the glamour the original music wove was more powerful than the borrowed tunes. The crowd couldn't help but be affected by the fae magic and there was joy that filled the room. Smiles. Clapping. The usual happy energy of a live performance was quadrupled, fed back to the crowd, and then amplified again. Mortals felt high from it. But the nature of his magic meant the joy was fleeting so by the time Willy had put the guitar down and had made his way to the bar to have a beer and socialize the spell had ebbed. People felt good but no one was overjoyed.

"Did you like the setlist tonight?" he asked the person he'd eased in to stand beside at the bar. "I thought I wanted to play folk, but it feels like a soul night."

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