R E V O L U T I O N

the rotten apple– one of those places that seemed goddamn timeless. no matter how many times caleb had walked through the doors of the place, there was always a sense of deja vu that had him feeling ( small ) like the child young man he’d been when he first walked in. it’d been years since he’d dance in those cages and on that stage but he was still as familiar with the club now as he had been back in those days. 

he’d watched wonderland when she danced- marveled at how she moved- before seeing her settle like a queen on a throne overseeing her domain. ( oh, and wasn’t she just every ounce a queen? ) the sounds of his steps were muffled in the thump of the music the dancers hanging above gyrated to but of course she heard him– if there was any one person in this entire goddamn city there was a snowball’s chance in hell on getting the jump on, it was wonderland james. “killing isn’t really my shtick,” he said smoothly, that perma-smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth, “besides, i’d miss your company.” his hand settled on the back of one of the chairs, “mind if i sit?” 

She noticed — weirdly more often in places like this than it ever could have been before — that people tended to say that a lot: murder wasn’t their thing. She wondered, quietly and always to herself, if any of that was true. Murder was everyone’s things if push came to shove, but it would be stupid to walk up to someone and say you wanted to kill them in the same right... though some DID do that.

The potential fire was quickly snuffed out by Wonderland’s, as always, dazzling and terrifying arrival. Jude pulled under her right eye with her middle finger, tongue poking out the potential snitch. By the looks of it the person was probably fucked out of their mind and hand’t seen a thing. But who would she be to stand in the way of Wonderland threatening the lives of random strangers at a club.  “The death?” Jude, throws a hand over her heart, a mocking look of surprise on her face. “I thought I was only bringing joy and endless happiness to your life.” She holds the bag up. “And drugs.”

Drugs only matter so far as she could sell them, but she never really went so far as to tell anyone that. It seemed pointless, like telling someone you’re vegan when it wasn’t even important to the conversation. A hand came out to push Jude’s hair back slightly behind her ear and the smile that Wonderland gave her was tight but genuine, “Always the drugs, Ju. That and a darling amount of ovary clenching feelings that I don’t usually bother with.”

It was true enough that she treated a fair few of her members like her own little gaggle of children — an odd assortment of young and old that became her lost boys in no time, gender non-specific — and she really was quite fond of them; not that she’d let herself go down in a blaze of glory for many of them, as that was highly unlikely and far beyond the point, but still... she did care to some degree.

Italicize what makes them uncomfortable.

“oh, i’m not here to kill you. i’m here to kill someone else.”  was he? who knew. not even poet knew, really. his nights usually just…unfolded as he went along. he had no desire to plan his murders or other nefarious dealings—that wasn’t very spontaneous, and he was nothing if not spontaneous. he also wasn’t really into murder. he preferred blowing things up. stabbing a dude on the dance floor wasn’t explosive enough. boring. “i’m not an idiot, if i was gonna kill you i wouldn’t do it here. wouldn’t make it out the door, right? and i like life.” 

“To be fair,” Wonderland began, sliding back in her seat and letting her eyes first dance across Poet before back to the dancers giving it everything they had; her drink was downed before she continued, “It depends on HOW you were to kill me. If you set the place on fire the chaos would allow you to escape — poison gas or a bomb would have the same effect, though the latter would be way more destructive — or you could easily slip something into my drink that would take time to work and before I was even dead you could be back where you wanted to be. Not all murder is created equal.”

With a drink in one hand, Colton hovered outside the bathrooms waiting for his friend to return. After a while, a man stumbled out and grabbed the blonde by his shoulders. “I’m gonna catch a cab, I feel like I’m dying.” Colton sighed and held out his palm, his friend subtly slipped the bag of coke back to him. “Fucker, you never make it to three. Stop bitching out early.” Colton shoved the bag of coke back into his pocket and said goodbye.

A little disheartened, the young man drunkenly made his way over to some seats. As he approached, he realised he recognised the woman in one of the nearby spots. Colton’s heart rate quickened a little; she lead the gang he wanted to take down - the gang he was also a part of.         “Kill you?” Colton laughed, making himself comfortable in a seat nearby. He hoped she didn’t detect the hint of guilt in his tone.   “I’m here to have fun of course, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Made my night, in fact. I’m Colton. ” Colton leaned over and extended his hand for a shake.

Wonderland was very good at keeping track of some things, but the idea that she could keep tabs on everyone in the Violent Delights was a ludicrous thought on its best day. She was, however, fully aware, that she was enemy to more people than she could be friends; it came with the territory. When you run something, everyone wants you to go down in flames... even those meant to work with and/or serve you.

As Colton rounded to the light, she offered a tight smile and lifted her shoulders in a shrug, “Everyone wants me dead at one point or another. If you haven’t yet, you will... it’ll pass.”

The smile she offered then was something like a cat, as if she knew something that no one else did, but it wasn’t that he wanted to take her down. On that front, she was oblivious, or so it seemed, “If you didn’t immediately try to kill me, I’m assuming you’re one of ours? Who brought you in? And how come I haven’t met you until now...”

WHEN: 2 am

WHO: open

Wonderland was often fine to be a silent owner — because it suited her needs better to be out of the spotlight — but sometimes she liked to be in the thick of things and getting the respect she deserves. She’s never been one to act as if she weren’t fully up her own ass on her star and how it’s rising, but there’s something to be said for ‘decorum’ in its own right.

She’d been dancing a few hours previous, but now she was relaxed in a plush chair near some dancers — male, female, and otherwise — giving it their all as they danced in a few suspended cages. Though her eyes were lazily focused on the cage-dancers, she did notice the muffled approach of someone to her left; she’d chosen a chair so no one could technically join right next to her, but there were scattered seats around, and so she offered, “If you’re here to kill me, try again, but if you’re here to have fun.. what can I do for you?”

(DICHEN LACHMAN, 39, SHE/HER) Coming up next on Rebel Radio is I’M THE BOMB by ELECTRIC SIX. This tune goes out to WONDERLAND JAMES. Rumor has it they just rolled into town and are fightin’ for THE VIOLENT DELIGHTS. They’re, (brave, charming) but also (boisterous, conceited) so watch your backs out there. We wish them the best of luck here in our gilded City of Light. Stay vigilante, stay dirty rock ‘n rollers and we’ll catch you for the next one.

I’m Drea and I’m 36, use she/her/they pronouns, and live in CST (GMT-5) timezone. Wonderland here is far more interesting than me.

coming at you, live and televised.