*the first building is actually rather small. Normally the bookshop proper, the shelves are now shoved to open up some room for just a couple of couches sitting around and a scattered display of local artists' work. The room is actually rather empty except for a couple of stuffy looking art enthusiasts and a couple or two making out on some of the couches. The former looks at the lattr with a disgusted expression. As one heads for the doorway, the music starts sounding louder, the insanely booming N'Awlins jazz weaving melodically through the passage and finally coming in to a full on assault as one steps through. The smells of sweat, booze, and laughter attack. The room is a crowd of people of all shapes, sizes, and colors, moving with their own agendas in a mercurial swarm. Loveseats, chairs and mismatched furniture of every type sit scattered through the room, as well as the multitudes of kegs, appetizers, and more drinks. Up to one side stands a small stage, unused and open for others for most of the party and this is where the vast majority of the music's speakers stand.*
