Front Entrance, First Floor

While he waits for Clark to formulate his reply, Connaire studies the crowd. A new arrival, a woman dressed for the night, joins the queue and The Destroyer senses a familiar spark burning at her core. It is something he has known before at some point in his long life and he wonders who it is that she quickens in memory but does not summon into the light.

He snapped out of past and back into present, the air still tasted of coal and his lost greater senses ghosted through his body with emotive memories of her taste in death, his fury and horror in life. (Well that was entertaining.) He gazed speculatively at the woman, (Yes, I see why.)

Gabe's mouth forms into a small smile, and he nods at Eddy twice. The bouncer apparently believes they're here to discuss the latest case, and hopes to get some juicy information. The gypsy moves past the man through the door and enters the club, moving through the dance floor.

Not needing to watch where Gabe heads to, Eddy's eyes turn back to the youth before him. "Well?" He asks impatiently. This guy had about ten seconds to produce the required paperwork before he called for security.

"Not too often." The ice-witch replies, "Just enough to know that I like it hear." By no means is Clark a clubber, but that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy breaking loose now and then. Clark tends to bottle things up, releasing them in singular moments, such moments are easy to come by in a night club. But over the course of many years, the size of Clark's internal bottle has grown substantially, so then need to open up is a fairly rare occasion.

Clark then notices that he and Connaire are next in line. He quickly pulls out his wallet and produces his identification. The bouncer Eddy had always been somewhat intimidating every time Clark had come here, though he did not have a particular fear of this man, he still made a rather uncomfortable atmosphere. Though Clark did no he had no reason to be scared, he doubts Eddy could shoot ice beams from his eyes. He holds it out amiably. "There you go." He turns to see Connaire. "You might want to get out some I.D. you'll be hard pressed to get in other wise.

Zoe folds her arms over her chest. blood red nails of her right hand taps against the upper part of her left arm. She was not by nature impatient, but she was thirsty. Lazily her gaze drifted over the crowd in line before her.

Making friends should be easy here. she thinks as she keeps tapping her fingers. Then she wondered to herself, did remember my id, right?

She moved to check, unfolding her arms and then patting her waist, smiling when she feels the stiff form of her i.d. in her skirt's pocket on her left side.

Still waiting for the plaid-clad guy to show his ID, Bran is somewhat taken aback when a tall guy suddenly goes past him to talk to the bouncer. Since he is standing pretty close he assumes that he is known around here. (Must be useful to have connections.) Bran concludes as he watches the bouncer trade something akin to friendly words before he lets the tall guy enter.

Barret would probably be ranting for Tyker to hurry up by now, but Bran has no real problem waiting. Most of his job is waiting for the computer or machines to tell him they had found something. A feminine "Excuse me." makes him turn around.

"Sorry, I had a little mishap with my bag…I didn’t want you to think I was some nut."

"Oh, it isn't a..." he has no time saying anything else as the woman disappeared again, hurrying to take her place back in line. Okay. That's strange. Preparing to see the plaid-covered back again his eyes travel to the ground, seeing twenty dollars lying on the ground. He crouches down to pick the money up, speculating that the woman who had just spilled her bag all over the floor to have lost it. Bran looks back to see if he can find her but she has seemed to vanish at the and of the line.

Bran doesn't wish to give up his place in line though. He plans to return it to her inside, confident that he would be able to recall her face later. He'll just have to find her.

Eddy glances at the growing line. Piper would be upset if she found out on kid was holding up the entire line of business. Not good. So he scowls at the boy, grabs his arm and pulls him to the side in a place he cannot get past him and looks at the next person in line, expecting him to have his ID out, as well.

"Sorry 'bout the wait," He apologizes in an irritated tone. Seeing that the next guy in line appeared to be plenty old enough to enter the club, he steps aside, admitting Bran Baxter into the club. Behind him stands a familiar face. Eddy's eyes narrow, trying to remember where he'd seen him before. Oh, yes, he'd worked his way through med school here a few years back. "Evening, Doctor," He says with a smile as he allows Christopher Soran into the club as well. He's always happy, and proud, of employees who reach their goals.

He looks at the young woman who'd dropped her purse, again. He supresses a laugh. He recalled her name from checking her ID a few times before. They never really chatted, but he recognized her. "Miss Aimes," He nods, smiling. "I believe the guy with the black outfit has twenty dollars he owes you." He informs her with a wink as he admits Natalie Aimes passage into the club.

Keeping the line moving as quickly as possible, Eddy's friendly smile melts into his usual serious manner when reeting guests. His eyes fall upon the next two in line. He'd seen the one kid before, Clark. But the other guy was new. By the looks of the guy, he could be a challenge to Eddy's job. "Enjoy the party," He says as he admits Clark Richards and Connaire Scriostóir into the club.

This leaves one. She didn't look familiar at all. He had a hting with faces. Part of what made him a great bouncer; he was able to memorize faces and ID's with a glance. She, however, was not on his mental list of of-agers. He offers a smile to indicate he was only doing his job. "May I see some ID, please, Miss?" He asks. She looked to be just at that age where she could either be eighteen or twenty something. He didn't want to be the one responsible for letting in someone who was underage. That would mean his job. And he needed his job.

"May I see some ID, please, Miss?"

Zoe jumps startled out of her jumble of thoughts triggered by the time spent watching those in front of her. "Sure." she says as she pulls her Driver's license from Nevada out of her left skirt pocket. She would have to apply for a California one as soon as she had cleared the six month residency line.

(Yeah, Todd is gonna love hearing about this. I get carded at a night club! This is not Kansas anymore let alone Oz.) she thought as she held the piece of plastic up for him to see.

(If he knows Illusionists, he should recognize the name.)

Chris folds his arms across his chest. It’s typical, the one time he actually gets a night off that can actually be a night off and some idiot, probably only just legal to drink, seems to have absolutely no idea what ID is, going by the somewhat blank look on the guy’s face. If Chris was any other guy, he’d probably start shouting obscenities or something, but working at the hospital has actually taught him patience and the ability to ignore that desire to punch an idiot in the face when they so clearly deserve it. Chris makes sure to move out of the way as Natalie collects up her dropped things, giving a couple of items a nudge in her direction. When two people bend down to pick up stuff it almost always ends badly, so he helps in a slightly less obvious way.

When Eddy finally moves on from idiot-boy and starts letting everyone else into the club, Chris can’t help but smile.

“Evening, Doctor.”

“Hey, Eddy. No D-word tonight, I am officially taking a night off.” Chris offers Eddy a mock salute as he makes his way into the club. True, he wouldn’t drink anything alcoholic tonight, just on the off-chance that someone did call or page him and tell him that he needed to get his ass back in to work. But that doesn’t mean that he’s not going to have a good time.

Eddy smirks and nods at Chris' subtle request. He can understand. It's rare that he, himself had an opportunity to go out and party, enjoy the night. He returns the salute and looks back to Zoe as she hands him the requested identification. "Thanks," He says with on of his winning smiles and retreives it gently from her delicate fingers.

He examines it quickly, as usual, memorizing face, name and birthday, and returns the piece of plastic to its owner. "Thank you, Miss Morgan." He removes the rope for her to pass. "Enjoy your evening."

Bran looks somewhat bemused as Eddy grabs the guy in front of him and almost hurls him out of the way. "Sorry 'bout the wait." The bouncer apologizes to the people in line. (Poor guy looks like he's stressed.)

The Scot is aware that it is hardly the bouncers fault, so he doesn't say anything about the wait. "Thanks," he says with a friendly smile as he is permitted to enter the club, passing by the bouncer and the young guy who had been put out of the way in a manner that he won't be able to sneak in. A swift glance makes Bran wonder though, why the guy hadn't simply shown his ID. (I'd say he's about my age.)

He shrugs mentally and makes his way to the bar. He'll get himself a drink and then look for the woman whose money he had picked up. His hands travel to the pocket he had the money stuff into to make sure it is still there, as he mingles with the crowd inside.

Connaire absorbs Clark's response with no reply. (Not a party animal ... I can work with that.) There was little that The Destroyer could not work with. He glances up as the bouncer at the door calls out to the dark haired, slim figure. (Doctor.) It is as if the dessert trolley had been wheeled past him, The Destroyer savouring the sweet. Healers grew into grim flowers, pollinating death and sorrows skillfully; twisting vines to the heart and ripping light from fragile naked minds, The Destroyer had grown a few special seeds in his time.

He smiles as Clark suggests he'd need ID to enter the club; there was age in his eyes even if the flesh was supple and young. When the bouncer waved them in, Connaire gave the young woman behind them a last fleeting glance. (Be seeing you ...) He returned his focus to the youth at his side, winked at Clark, "Looks like the pleasure dome has finally opened to us, let's see how their honey-dew and milk of paradise measures."

He headed into the club.

Thank you, Miss Morgan."

(Miss is it? Now , now I intend to rectify that issue soon.) she thinks as she licks her lips. Feeling eyes on her, Zoe looks up and catches a glimpse of fiery red hair.

(I have got to find him and check out more of him. Wow I have never seen hair that bright! Wow!) she thinks as she gets back her i.d and slides it into her pocket. Taking a deep breath, she heads into the club, in search mode.

Oblivious to the flirtations of the young woman and the clearly dyed red-head, Eddy reclasps the rope in place, disallowing any entry without his permission and turns back to Tyker. Arms crossed, he gives the boy probably the dirtiest scowl he's had in a long time.

"Now listen up, kid," He says in his typical take-no-shit tone. "If you don't produce some ID fast, you will have two choices. Run as fast as you can," His hand moves from its position across his chest to outline his points with his fingers. "Or I get Mrs. Halliwell to call the cops and you can deal with them." He puts his hand back in place. "Which is it?" He demands.

The muffled music fro the club within dies down and a deep bass voice comes over the system. "Ladies and gentlemen," He pauses, waiting for everyone's attention. "P3 is proud to present," Another pause. "Shiny Toy Guns!" Almost immediately, the sound of their song featured in a Razr commercial, Le Disko, blares over the system.