• ~ part 1

    With each beat the crowd jumped up, bouncing to the tempo of the flashing rainbow of lights and hard system of electronic drum and sound like robotic takeover. The air just above their heads was lit, flashing with glow-sticks swung up around in the chaos for that extra sense of ecstasy and delusion and fantasy given with each lasting beam arching the atmosphere. Some of the ravers off to the side were dedicated to this, forming circles or walls of these prisma displays, moving so quickly it seemed they might have more than two arms. Watching with morbid fascination by the edges of the gala stood those who seemed near uninterested with the concept of dancing to the beats. They stood, arms may be crossed, backs leaning against the walls, water cups in their hands or as bland as the common sidewalk. They were ignored as easily as ghosts. They didn't want to be there, so no one wanted them there.
    There was a pause in the beat as the finale of the music jumped and banged to its finish. A cheer roared through the crowd and soon hoots and hollers for the next drum of sway to brume their fest. But there was one thing they failed to notice. Through their excitement and fascination with the dancing mob of heat and sweat, drowned in drug and drink, kept in ecstasy and light and sound no one could notice the slight whistle beyond the locked double doors that kept them separate from the world outside. The whistle came to a hum, then a drone, then a low growl through the entire place. Finally, someone called it loud and clear and the name turned to a chant.
    "Slev! Slev! Slev!"
    "Slev Slev Slev Slev!"
    The whole room reverberated with the sound of chanting and fists threw into the air as if to punch the heavens further to the moon. Those standing to the side looked confused, lost as the place turned on the double doors draped with neon. They burst open and the chanting became hard cheer louder than any music that ever touched the air. The entrant grinned widely as he stepped in and threw his arms up to welcome the next scream of joy. Proudly behind him stood his closest companions, decorated just as well as Slev for the occasion. With a fine, august and antic bow to the crowd the young illustrious strode forward to a new beat dancing the air from voice and feet and whirs. It was party time.