H-010: Thickth Bar, The Big Room

Wall of noise. 

Lia enters The Big Room, its identification proclaimed on a spray-painted metal sign that looks to have had a former life as an industrial door but is now suspended from the roof with rusty chains. 

Smoke both artificial and tobacco hangs and swirls, coloured light beams and lasers picked out within it – the air glows.  

In front of her, bodies move on the dance floor before a speaker array; it looks like it might need a dedicated fusion reactor for its power.  All around, more people drinking, standing, smoking, toking, talking close to ears.  Her nose greets a redolence of tobacco, stale alcohol, bodies both sweaty and perfumed, the whole papered over with a sickly-sweet pall of artificial smoke. 

To Lia’s left The Bar, better lit, Lia can see a thronging queue several people deep around the counter, stools and high tables at the edges for the serious drinkers.  To her right, The Lounge, a used furniture and junk shop segregated with makeshift partitions and randomly lit with task lights from above.  Pools of light show it peopled with more sedentary revelers, pools of dark hide shapes that may be the same – though here and there a cigarette or a PDA screen glows.