<div class="floatleft">(https://66.media.tumblr.com/2b024afb173f3f28db2e45a1e20392b0/tumblr_p7vnlmEbeP1ws2odco1_1280.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong><strong>Aubrey Clarke</strong>(https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14905402#msg14905402)<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>A black, lacy bodysuit tucked into a pair of tight black jeans with a 'O' ring belt and gold jewellery/accessories. (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e4/1d/b2/e41db296eed543184c2769068e506eae.jpg) A pair of black, peep-toe, stiletto pumps with red soles (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/68/30/a1/6830a15ad4abb6e9d0dd97483f73f6eb.jpg) and a small, black handbag with gold detailing. (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e6/68/2d/e6682d5a357abbbd7f92647ef1e9f6bf.jpg)<br/><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong>N/A<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>Nighttime (Not sure of date or specific time)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Main Room, Rave Wars Warehouse Party<br/><strong>Activity:</strong>Getting Her Own Drink<br/><strong>Content Warning:</strong>N/A<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>OPEN<br/><hr/><br/>The baseline thumped throughout the large, once abandoned warehouse, vibrating through walls and floors and into its inhabitants in a way that consumed them. Colourful lights darted about the space in flashes and lasers that matched the loud music, having their own dance to the sounds that blared, highlighting body parts of party-goers and reflecting off glasses and bottles. The DJ booth was the main source of attention, along with the bar, both sitting at opposing ends of the large room. Booths and tables lined certain areas, giving people a place to relax, though talking would have still been fairly hard in such an atmosphere, seated or not. Everywhere was crowded with different types of people, some grouping together, others dancing alone, but they all had one thing in common – okay, maybe two things – partying and cars. The community had come together for a pre-street race event, ’Rave Wars’, something that was popular before most racing bouts. These events often contained unsafe levels of alcohol as well as hook ups, or a way of ‘infiltration’ of opposing racers. At least those that managed to get paralytic had the rest of the following day to sober up before attempting to join the races. Drunk driving was one way to assure you were out of the scene for a while, maybe even for the rest of your life.<br/><br/>The outside of the building was almost as bustling as the inside, with attendee’s smoking, grouped up with friends or strangers and conversing. Security stood by professionally by the entrances, carding certain people, turning some away, and staying on the lookout for those fights that were sure to break out once the alcohol, and other substances, were flowing.<br/><br/>Aubrey made her way inside, flashing her ID upon request; it was a frustratingly common occurrence for her. The redhead headed directly for the bar, pushing through some patrons as she crossed the packed warehouse floor. Pulling up at the bar, her hands immediately finding the surface edge, Bree pressed up onto her tiptoes and leaned forward, looking to get a bartender's attention.<br/><br/>“What ya havin’?” The stranger stood beside her spoke up and Aubrey turned to glance at him. She frowned; he was clearly not staff.<br/><br/>The man was tall and skinny, wearing plain clothes with a grin on his face as he glanced her up and down, his eyes practically undressing her there and then.<br/><br/>“No thanks, love.” Her British accent was thick and it clearly came as a surprise to the stranger. Aubrey smiled politely, immediately turning away from him only for him to reach out and grip her by the shoulder. She followed his movements as he turned her back to face him and his hand lingered on the freckled, bare skin of her shoulder, the spaghetti strap doing nothing to protect her from his unwanted touch.<br/><br/>“Hey, don’t be like that. C’mon, Red.”<br/><br/><em>’Gross...’</em><br/><br/>“I said no thanks.” Aubrey reiterated, raising her own hand to slap his away defensively, her expression going from her polite smile to an irritated glare. “Piss off.”<br/><br/>“Frigid bitch.” He growled, deciding she was too much effort and that he was too drunk to keep pressing for her attention.<br/><br/>Aubrey smiled at him, a clearly sarcastic expression as she waved him goodbye when he turned to leave, grumbling drunkenly to himself. “Bye now.”<br/><br/><em>’Thank fuck...’</em><br/><br/>Spinning on her stiletto heels, Aubrey’s big doe eyes fell on a barman and her smile turned genuine as she leaned forward to him, raising her voice so he could hear her order.<br/><br/>“Vodka Redbull, please.” She paused, debating for a second. “And a shot of Patron. Thanks.”<br/><hr/><strong>Music Inspo:</strong>Summer Club Mix. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=npBkDZ2BbOY&t=1621s)