A simple red neon sign illuminates the large double wooden doors that lead into the Seraphim's Tears. Once inside, a small room greets you, thumping softly with the bass from within. Obviously, the club proper has been well soundproofed. In this room, you will be carded, and the doorman does know what a fake ID looks like.
Once the cover charge is paid, another set of double wooden doors opens and you enter the bar proper. To your left, the bar. Made of a large block of Fully stocked, and ready to make anything you choose, the prices are surprisingly reasonable for New York. Try the Seraphim's Kiss, a strange mix of alcohols that will alter your state of consciousness, get you drunk if you want to be vulgar about it. To the right, a series of semi-private booths for anyone who wants to try and carry on a conversation in here. Directly ahead, across a large dance floor is the DJ stand, easily transformed into a stage for live acts. Along the back wall is a series of tables, for when one gets tried of braving the mosh pit that passes for a dance floor here.
