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Jun Shang-Da

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Attitude Check - Minding the Store ((intro)) [01 Aug 2005|11:13am]
[ mood | annoyed ]

Leaning a little further back in my chair than OSHA would have preferred, I squeezed a couple of quick drops of Visine into my eyes, then resumed watching the huge bank of flat panel monitors mounted on the wall in front of me. Okay, in front of us, that is-- as right now, I was engaging in probably my least favorite part of being the owner of a nightclub, which was hanging around in the Security suite, keeping an eye on my customers and looking for troublemakers.

Me, I much preferred mingling and greeting people, looking out for the VIPs and basically just swimming in the energy and vibe that got thrown off all the pretty young people that crammed into my place, The Den, night after night. Unfortunately, there'd been an 'incident' last night, and a couple of thick-necked and thin-skinned 'actor' types had partaken of just a few too many Red Bull and Vodkas, and gotten lippy with some of my other VIPs, who just happened to be a couple of my werewolf friends. The wolves didn't start the fight, and mercifully, they ended it quickly, but a brawl was a brawl, and they were bad for business.

So that was why I was up here in the near-dark with my well-trained and very capable Security staff instead of out on the floor. I was in the middle of trying to cover up a yawn when my head of Security, Perry, tapped me on the shoulder. He pointed to monitor eight and I tapped the button that would send the feed to the LCD in front of me.

There on the screen, I could see the section of the club that was a little darker, a little quieter than the rest-- not for us, though, with the night-vision cameras-- that most people used for a quick makeout session. It seemed, though, that the guy in banquette #3 was using it to do some kind of business deal.

And when she showed up, I had a pretty good idea what kind of deal was going down. She was dressed, if you could call it that, in head-to-toe skintight leather or vinyl, at least where she wasn't showing off sections of skin. Long curly hair, the makeup... all of it pretty well confirmed my suspicions, even before the guy slipped her the envelope. I turned to Perry.

"Have a couple of the boys ask the lady very nicely if she'd join me for a chat in VIP two?"

He nodded and started talking into his radio. I got up, straightened out my extremely expensive DKNY for Men suit jacket and headed downstairs. The soundproofed and isolated VIP rooms, where the celebrities liked to party, also made for very effective 'interviews'.

((Open to Gwen))


Apocalypse Nowish - Limping home [05 Jul 2005|10:15am]
[ mood | groggy ]

It's not a wise idea to wake up in the industrial blocks of downtown L.A. wearing nothing but a pair of lycra bike shorts and looking like you've just gone twelve rounds with a very hungry Mike Tyson. But, since I didn't have much of a choice in the matter, that's exactly where and how I ended up after the fight.

The fight.

It was a red-tinted whirl of images and half-remembered sensations, but the one thing that came through loud and clear was the relief. It was finally done, and I could put that ghost to rest.

Maybe even figure out what the fuck I was gonna do with the rest of my life.

But more importantly, I had to figure out what I was gonna do with my almost-naked ass. Slowly and achingly, I pushed myself up onto my feet and lurched toward the nearest dumpster. Finding nothing there, I staggered on to the next one, where I managed to dig up some thrown-away clothes until I looked more like a vagrant instead of a mental patient.

I started what I knew was going to be a long, painful walk back to the hotel. On the way, though, a few blocks shy of the Hyperion, I stopped to lean against the brick wall of a building. I stood there for almost five minutes before recognizing The Den, my club. Patting myself mentally for having a keypad lock on the side door, I tapped in the code and stepped inside.

Everything left the way it was, I wondered for a while what I was going to do with the place. Upstairs was my office suite, including the full bathroom and sofabed I used for particularly long nights. As gingerly and carefully as I could, I washed the blood and grime and vampire dust off of myself, then cracked open a first aid kit and did what I could on that end. Finally, I crawled into the sofabed and passed out again.

When I woke, it was night again, and I'd healed up enough that I didn't look like hammered shit. I slipped into the change of clothes I always kept on hand here, locked the place back up and headed for the hotel. I stepped into the lobby, assaulted by the sudden rush of new scents and sounds. We were apparently playing host to a bunch of new residents. Fun.

Now I had to go find somebody to maybe patch up the rest of what I couldn't get to last night.

((Open to anyone))


Apocalypse Nowish - Hunt [19 Jun 2005|12:55am]
[ mood | angry ]

Maybe it was the fact that I'd lived in Southern California for so long that even in the middle of the L.A., the air outside was still 'fresh' air. Maybe it was that the wolf inside me just preferred to be outdoors where it could at least hope and dream of being free to run and hunt. Maybe it was because it was one of the few damn places in this hotel that a person could get some quiet time alone, especially now that we had a whole fucking halfway house wandering the halls.

Yeah, that was probably it.

Truth and Consequences, Los AngelesCollapse )

"We're finally done with it, sweetheart. It's finally over."

I looked up into the slowly lightening sky and howled long and loud. Now that Lizzie was gone and avenged, I could finally breathe again, really breathe. Once my ribs and probably my lungs healed, of course.


"One Night in Chinatown" [10 May 2005|10:47pm]
[ mood | contemplative ]

-San Francisco, Chinatown, present day-

'The more things change, the more things stay the same', so the saying goes. I've found that more often than not, it's the truth and then some. Like the building I was standing in-- my building, as a matter of fact, at least as of eight months ago when I'd bought the lease to 369 Sutter Street. Back in the 1940's, the building had been the home of Charlie Low's famous nightclub 'Forbidden City'. There were a few notable 'Chinese nightclubs' in this part of town, like the Shanghai Club, but it was Forbidden City that usually got all the press. Celebrities were constantly spotted at the club, and there was always a photographer handy to get their picture next to a grinning Charlie Low in the next day's paper.

Like all good things, the Forbidden City came to an end, the building was bought and sold, and a fire gutted it in the 80's. It was rebuilt and up until I came into the picture, it was home to a computer school.

Me? My name is Jun Shang-Da, and I grew up here in Chinatown, where I heard plenty of stories about the glamorous club my great grand-uncle Charlie used to run. So, after I got back from college and turning what was a halfway decent inheritance into a hell of a fine nest egg with what I learned there, I decided it was time to bring the good old days back.

I bought the building, butted heads with designers and architects and even a couple of A-list celebrity party animals and reopened Forbidden City with a fanfare like San Francisco's Chinatown hadn't seen in decades. That was a month ago, and even in the fickle world of nightlife, Forbidden City with its mix of old-style elegance of fine dining and stage entertainment and cutting-edge nightclub ambiance, was still one of the hottest places to party in the city, maybe even the country.

So there I was, taking a break from my usual schmoozing and networking up in the state-of-the-art security office. The place was dark, lit just by the banks of flat computer monitors that kept closed-circuit eyes on every square inch of the inside of the club. Some of the cameras covered the outside of the building, too, just to make sure that all of my happy customers stayed just that, even before and after their visit.

It was while I was watching one of those particular monitors out of the corner of my eye at the same time I was catching up with Jake Lo, my head of security that I saw her. Well, specifically, first I saw the pair of UCSF co-eds that I'd made sure left the bar before they got too smashed to walk straight heading into one of the dark alleys that were one of old Chinatown's less pedestrian-friendly legacies. Then, I saw the big guy in the fake-looking monster mask jump out at them from behind a dumpster.

Then I saw her. She was moving fast, and headed straight at monster man.

"Shit," I muttered as I watched the big guy swing his arm and smash a bunch of bricks right off the wall. Making Jake swear that he wouldn't follow me, I bolted for the back staircase and pretty much jumped down them.

I'd been living in Chinatown long enough to know there were plenty of things that went 'bump' in the night that most people didn't like to admit existed. Plus, I had personal experience with the subject. I had a hunch what monster man might be, but I was hoping I was wrong.

Shouldering open the steel door that let out into the alley in question, I burst through it, looking around frantically and getting myself ready for a fight.

((Open to Lian))


Apocalypse Nowish - No Forgetting [20 Apr 2005|03:18pm]
[ mood | angry ]

The plan was to just keep wandering around the hotel, waiting for some kind of sign to tell me what to do about my royally weird life... or for the other shoe to drop, whichever came first. Unfortunately, with this truth spell thing in play, it seemed like most people weren't in much of a mood to socialize, so there weren't too many places left for me to be actually by myself. Finally, after walking and climbing stairs at random, I found myself up on the roof.

From here, the view of the city was actually kinda pretty. Over a good half of the sky or more, blue was giving way to purple and red for a while, until night came and brought the usual good and bad with it. Even with the whole lockdown on the hotel, the fact that there hadn't been any kind of chain or bolt on the roof door told me that somebody elese had found a little refuge up here not long ago. Couldn't blame anybody for wanting the time away.

Sighing, I leaned against the edge of the wall, looking down onto the street and away from the hotel to the surrounding buildings. Everything was as peaceful and quiet as you would want a night in L.A. to be.

Then, it caught my eye, from the building across the small side street. It took only half a heartbeat for me to recognize that other rooftop.

It was the one where he'd been. The rooftop with the commanding, direct-line view of the kitchen windows. That was where the vampire had sat and waited for who knows how long to get a glimpse of two figures, sharing a late-night drink and a little bit of home. That was where the blonde-headed one had set his high-powered sniper rifle and picked out his targets with a cold-blooded, cowardly precision that isn't taught; it's born in your bones.

That was where the bastard had killed Lizzie from.

And even though I'd tasted his blood, even though I'd fought him until I was too weak to do anything but crawl back to the hotel, he was still out there. Not alive, but still out there, waiting for me to go out and hunt him down so we can finish this thing right. I flexed my hands, the sense memory of claws and wide-stanced paws that I could use so well to balance and tear and shred.

That was why I was still the only one who knew about the vampire. His blood, his end-- it belonged to me.

Soon enough, the hunt would start again.

((Open to The First))


Respite [22 Jul 2004|08:43pm]
[ mood | exhausted ]

The only problem with having to hold the scraps of cloth against me was that I couldn't put an arm around Lizzie. Half of me wanted to do it just to have my arm around her, the other half was feeling just terrible. I'd never been in a fight like that, ever, so I guess that was why I was so damn tired.

I tested my shoulder again, and the second I moved it, it flared, and I winced.

"Ugh. Guess that one got me better than I thought."

I wiggled my eyebrows at Lizzie.

"Maybe I need a little TLC after that shower."

We were back up in the room a few minutes later. I pulled another pair of pants from the closet and looked up. Guess it was way too late to be shy about her seeing me put on clothes, huh? I dropped the rags and put a hand against the wall to steady myself.

Why was it so hot in this room?

I put one foot into the leg, and my vision swam for a second. It was way, way too hot. This wasn't good.


The world spun, and I fell to the floor with a heavy thud.

((Open to Lizzie.))


Testing [09 Jul 2004|08:10pm]
[ mood | creative ]

Testing new journal.

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