There's a bright illuminated sign hanging in front of the building that flickered every so often. Chatter can barely be heard coming from the inside, and it doesn't look relatively busy aside from like four people who have multicolored hair and piercings where piercings shouldn't be seated at a table.
"No Bullying, Homophobic slurs, Racial slurs, Swearing, Misgendering, Drama, or gossiping is tolerated. You will immediately get banned. Remember to respect your peers and mods. Enjoy your stay and rate the room!"
"Okay," Ansel says bitterly. He had to squint his eyes at the blinding light of the sign, disoriented from reading it. "We wouldn't last a minute in there."
"I don't know," Joey says. He's tugging at one of the posters that has an overweight woman proudly showing off her unshaved underarms; Be You! is printed beside her head. "Looks promising. Really digging the flamboyancy of the place."
Ansel scowls, stepping back. The lights were obviously LGBT themed, if the sporadic flickering of rainbow wasn't evident enough. He'd appreciate a more pastel type to make it easy on the eyes.
"Why are we even stopping by to look at this place?" Blake asks, gesturing down the road. "There's like a whole row of places down the street and you want to stop at faggot central. It's starting to make you look suspicious."
"You are a faggot, dickhead. Suck a dick."
"Ten percent. Ten percent of faggotry flows through my veins," Blake corrects. "Watch your filthy mouth."
"Whatever."
"We could go to one of those Asian buffets," Joey suggests. He briefly pulls out a tablet, glancing over the options for the current IMVU world they were in. "Unless you guys aren't feeling that. There's like, one Italian restaurant and the rest are solely strip clubs for AP users."
"Okay, well. I'm an AP user."
"Yeah, but me and brochacho aren't one," Blake says. Ansel visibly cringes at the nickname."Unless you're willing to figure out some way to slip us in."
"What? No. I didn't even say I wanted to go in one in the first place. Don't put words in my fucking mouth."
"I'm not putting words in your fucking mouth, fucker. I'm just saying if you were planning to, since you're lonely and all, you wouldn't want to leave your two mentally unstable children outside alone. We could get into some serious trouble."
"One, you're not my children–"
"I'm not mentally unstable," Joey murmurs.
"–Two, I'm not lonely, and three, kill yourself."
"Woah there, buckaroo. It's a bit too late in the day for me to feel suicidal."
Ansel starts walking down the road at that point. The other two follow him predictably, because despite Ansel's impulsive negative responses towards them, he's still considered mother duck of the group.
Around the curve of the road has another set of buildings, much taller prior to the ones they had seen previously. The streets were also covered with more people loitering and sitting in cars, blasting music and getting drunk. The places were obviously hotspots, given the amount of people grouped up together. It's surprising to see no fights had erupted yet.
