Tags: Clubs, Yuri, Mature stuff.
The horrendous buzzing of the electronic music that's engulfing the dark room makes Riven wish that she was deaf as the stoic, exiled swordswoman continues taking small sips of her drink from her dirty glass, whilst being seated near the black counter. All around her, clearly inebriated men and women are moving their bodies to the beat of DJ Sona's latest masterpiece. The rotating neon lights bounce against the shifting blender of about a hundred sweaty, youthful bodies. Strangers and lovestruck couples alike jerking and turning, quaking merrily inside this grand, stirring bowl of intoxicated souls and soon-to-be soiled naivety. The dancers' expressions are adventurous, their touches impossibly daring. The strangers' hands clasp together and their arms fold as the aching bodies move closer, anonymous shades hidden under the bleeding veil of the flowing hex-lights.
The minutes keep slipping by as the clubbers seemingly alternate between shuffling their feet on the cramped dance floor, or dragging their partners towards the club's restrooms for a quickie. As the night progresses some of the newly-formed couples become braver due to the cheap alcohol that's flooding their veins. The inebriated strangers start to kiss under the flickering neon lights of the always crowded dance floor.
Shifty flocks of drunken, laughing people head for the exit with quick and impatient strides. All the while, heartbroken loners sink deeper into the flattened leather cushions of the tall barstools. The stained rectangle of the ivory bar welcomes them heartily. Empty glasses clink sorrowfully as hopes and dreams drain.
Riven doesn't know much about Shen Shui, fashion trends or whatever passes for innovative interior design these days, but she finds the spinning neon lights annoying as they create colorful reflections against every furniture in the dimly lit room. The steady stream of similar, yet alternating power chords spewing out of the clubroom's jolting loudspeakers are giving the pale warrior a headache, too.
The exiled swordswoman sips more of the watered down alcohol in her half-empty glass as the moody albino's eyes follow the drunken movements of a particular redheaded woman that's swaying to the beat of the music alongside the other dancers.
Katarina looks dazed and tired, and more than a little inebriated as the fiery redhead proceeds to suggestively rub her body against the pulsating hips and chests of the other clubbers on the dimly lit dance floor. A pair of short-haired blonde twins, a man and a woman, from what Riven can make out in the darkness, immediately take a liking to the drunken antics of the infamous Du Couteau heiress. The daring and obviously buzzed twins flirtatiously press their sculpted bodies against that of the Noxian assassin. Their movements raw and primal, lustful. Like an experienced pair of hunters that are carefully leading a lone gazelle away from the rest of her herd, the twin siblings pull Katarina to the edge of the dimly lit dance floor.
The stained glass of cheap whiskey almost shatters inside the fuming albino's white-knuckled grip, as Riven watches from her seat near the bar the two siblings flirting and kissing with her visibly tipsy, former girlfriend.
Smiles and muffled groans are exchanged below the ephemeral dazzling rays of the artificial hex-tech rainbow dispenser. Eager hands roam across even more eager hot bodies, fingertips tugging at the hems and collars of disheveled, band t-shirts, plain white shirts and the dangerously dipping of crinkled cleavages.
Riven's frowning lips form a tense straight line as she silently observes Katarina hungrily kissing the shapely blond woman first and then half-turning to plant her lips against those of the grinning man that keeps rubbing his groin against her seductive thighs. Mere seconds later and the departure of a giggling couple of teenage girls opens a temporary pocket in the sea of horny, dancing seducers. Too small for anyone to reach Katarina and dance near the intoxicated Du Couteau, but certainly big enough for the albino warrior to notice the greedy hands of the lecherous twins hungrily exploring the redhead's shapely body.
Those cursed, wretched, foreign paws slip underneath the horny heiress' revealing clothes, cupping Katarina's feminine curves in their palms. Hot breaths ghosting over the intoxicated redhead's peerless skin. The twins' pearly, white teeth leaving soft trails across Katarina's delicious neck, teasing the assassin's exposed flesh, tickling the Noxian's jawline.
The stained, filthy glass shatters inside the furious grasp of the frowning exiled swordswoman. Cheap whiskey and the occasional droplet of sanguine blood wetting the hand of Riven as the Exile quietly watches Katarina pulling the blonde man for another hungry, passionate kiss. The two Noxians' eyes briefly meet over the shoulder of the aforementioned smirking blonde dancer. Kat keeps her stare even as she deepens the kiss, the cruel heiress then begins massaging the man's crotch. Neither of the blonde siblings notices the short exchange taking place between the two former lovers, or the hateful glare of the seething swordswoman directed their way, for that matter.
Mere seconds later, the fallen assassin ends their kiss. Katarina leans forward to whisper something against her new conquest's ear, then drags the grinning blonde twins towards the club's restrooms by their wrists.
Riven closes her eyes. She takes a deep breath to calm down her nerves. One, two, three dead Zaunite scientists. Four, five, six, seven, eight…
The breathing exercise doesn't help as much as the usually disciplined and stoic Exile would have expected. Perhaps it has something to do with the terrible music that is filling the deserter's ears, or the neon lights that are mockingly spinning overhead as a growl escapes Riven's lips. Perhaps the cause for the pale swordswoman's immense agitation can be found in the endless string of vivid images depicting Katarina in the throes of passion that Riven's damn brain keeps constructing against the Exile's better judgment.
Less than five minutes later, the albino swordswoman kicks open the Restrooms' door. The hateful echo of DJ Sona's electronic music fades away, only to be quickly replaced by the moans of the intoxicated couples that are currently occupying the bathroom's stalls.
The pale ex soldier lets her former flame's familiar moans lead her outside of the right booth, before Riven breaks the door with a single well-aimed kick in the lock that makes the wood splinter around the deformed metal. The albino swordswoman doesn't waste her time with needless words and logical explanations as she swiftly grabs the female twin by the hair and shoves her outside of the bathroom stall. The male one yells something in protest while struggling with the buckle of his belt. Riven notices Katarina's lipstick smudged against the faded fabric of his jeans. She doesn't think, she just cocks her arm back and punches him straight in the nose.
The drunken man falls down with a startled scream of pain, his palms rising to clench at his broken nose as it spills blood on the bathroom's floor. Some couples, the ones that aren't too drunk to realize what's happening, decide to flee from the Restrooms. Riven suddenly feels the weight of the other twin slamming against her rigid back. The scarred swordswoman calmly elbows the poor girl in the throat. Riven then turns around, grabs her nearly hysteric brother by his bloodstained shirt and fling him towards his chocking sister.
"Get out of here or I will break your bones." The former Noxian growls and the two siblings grudgingly scatter whilst shooting the crazy albino scorching and hateful glares. The horrible music from outside minutely returns until the Restrooms' door is slammed closed again. Then relative silence descends in the bathroom.
Riven slowly turns around to glare at her former girlfriend and the sick, evil grin that she is sporting. Katarina hasn't stopped masturbating since the fighting started. Now, the sadistic redhead looks at the scowling Exile with a seductive expression marring her beautiful visage as she approaches the silent deserter. Katarina leans down to lick a droplet of warm blood off Riven's pale face. The betrayed swordswoman shoves the assassin away without a word. Riven silently exits the restroom. Utterly alone, left hollow in the quietness of the club's deserted restroom, the fallen Noxian heiress sighs disappointedly, the red curtain of Katarina's long crimson hair effectively hiding the shaking assassin's glistering tears.