Nobody
[123-not-starting!]
Nobody
[So, this mask thing.]
Dice: 8 d10 TN7 (1, 5, 5, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 5 )
Hawthorne
Wednesday nights are not so busy as the weekends, but believe you me it's still busy in The Emergency Room. But tonight the crowd around the bar is only about three bodies thick. There's room to dance on the dancefloor upstairs without being obscene - unless, of course, that's what people want to do.
The lights are low, of course, with black lighting interspersed throughout that make the white uniforms of the staff pop out. Everywhere there are beautiful people wearing tight white clothing, some are simply lovely. These are servers. Some are tall and broad and muscular. These are security. They sweep and swoop around the dance floor, same as they do every night, looking for people who've decided it's their right to get a bit handsy with a stranger. One stands as silent watchdog over the VIP section, separated from the rest of the floor by white velvet ropes that glow beneath the last edge of the black lighting. Dana's working the gate tonight, tall, beautiful, powerful Dana. She's an amazon, that one. And she smiles with malicious pleasure at every douchebro who thinks they can mess with her just because she's a woman.
God she loves this job. They all do, or most of them.
So, this is the stage. Downstairs is busy, with its crowded bar and its full to overflowing couches and chairs and seating. Upstairs is busy with dancers stuck in perpetual motion, trapped by the beat of the latest dubstep.
Bo Thomas
Denver nights were never really hot, not in the way some cities were, here the temperatures rose to impressive levels during the day, in some cases baking the sidewalks and those who were fool enough to walk along them. But at night, the weather was tolerable, like the desert so close by the temperature dropped in the city of Denver, becoming warm...but ultimately comfortable.
That is not to say that the inside of the Emergency Room didn't feel like the sidewalk on a hot day. While it was no friday or saturday evening, the Emergency Room was still popular, still IN with the IT crowd, and so getting in required that Bo finesse, that smile and that energy that let the outside bouncer know that....the young woman was a worthy addition to the nights revelries.
Inside Bo had already made her way towards the upstairs room drawn by the pulse of the music and the pull of bodies moving through the club, it was like a heart, a great valve that pushed and pulled those within and in doing so...left them with no choice but to give in, to accept...to enjoy.
Bo was dressed more for the club then she had been in a long time, the last time she'd been here it had simply been in a little black dress, but now she moved through the club in a sleek navy blue asymetrical dress with black piping to accentuate all the right places. Her black hair was spiraled with silver, the normally flowing hair was pulled up and back in a pair of closely bound pony tails that fell to her upper back [gotta love extensions]. She moved with delight, bouncing to and fro on her two inch platforms that almost..almost gave her respectable height.
Kali
[[Nightmares roll!]]
Dice: 7 d10 TN7 (3, 3, 4, 7, 8, 8, 9) ( success x 4 )
Hawthorne
There is an energy to this club, even on an off night. People are drawn to it, the atmosphere, the noise, the way the heart begins to match the pulsing rhythm of the music.
It makes life so much easier for its lone tennant. Company comes to him. Excitement comes to him.
Food. It comes to him.
He's not on the floor, either first or second, not at the moment. When Bo heads through the crowd to lose herself on the dancefloor, Hawthorne is downstairs touching base with the members of a private party. This time it's boring, just an ordinary poker match between a dangerous collection of characters. They bluff and bluster and growl and snarl, and all the while the owner of The Emergency Room smiles for them. As if they weren't powerful in their own right and were, in fact, adorable kittens. If he didn't want to cause a ruckus within his domain (at least, not tonight) he would pat their heads and scratch them under their chins. He doesn't do that. He just makes sure the staff are keeping the alcohol flowing.
When he's finished with them he heads back up the stairs, toward the bar first.
Kali
People accuse Kali of dressing like a common prostitute...at least, they do when they have lapses of judgnment. Kali has always professed that there is NOTHING common about her biker/call girl style and she's gone through great expense to cultivate it, thank you very much. That's a designer corset, so common? Go fuck yourself.
Anyway, we're getting way off track here. The point is, people are used to her dressing in what can charitably be called "Sons of Anarchy-meets-The Client List." As such, they may be very interested to know how the Rroma girl dresses when she goes out clubbing. The answer is, as with many things involving Kali, "Depends on the night." Tonight she is in full fetish-goth mode. Instead of her usual corset, it's a...well, different corset. This one is a black lether steelboned number, just barely covering enough to keep her out of jail in public and without the modesty panel on her back. That's accompanied by elbow-length PVC gloves, an indecenntly-short PVC skirt and knee-high stilleto boots, her red hair pulled tighly back into a bun. She has actually used make-up to pale what is normally dusky skin, and used that as a canvas for an impressive make-up job that includes deep red eyeshadow and lips, everything else in black.
Sometimes she goes to the clubs to work. Other times she's checking out potential competition. Tonight, by her looks at least, she's just out to have a good time.
Bo Thomas
The music pounds, the cacophony of dubstep filling the senses and reverberating within the body. It wasn't Bo's preferred music, it wasn't even second or third on a very long and comprehensive list of Bo's favourite music...but it had a beat, and it had rhythm, and for now...that was all she needed.
Her dancing took her around the room, moving through the crowd, sometimes joining groups of dancers with a luminous smile and a friendly hello, other times simply moving her way along solo, doing her best to avoid the roaming hands of any who might find her...appealing.
Nobody
Nobody's in the Emergency Room tonight because of somebody's somebody. He came with a crowd of kine: all somehow involved in the medical field, all in the mood to indulge in some fantasy, to scorn the cheese while lapping it up, and he is still with them. He was with them at the bar, three-people-deep, a short man with broad shoulders, not lean, oh no, but with a vaguely athletic limber to him. His skin is dark, but let's not call it dusky; let's call it what it is: The American Dream.
He could be mistaken for Arabic, Jewish, Indian, Sicilian, but the truth is This Face had family in Sweden and Lebanon and Barcelona, throw in something else and something else again, and Nobody has a bland everyman look to him, not ugly, not terribly attractive, just bland. You'd describe him like this: oh, that nice guy? He was, uh. Kind of short. (No, Average. Average-Tall. But on the shorter-side. Oh yeah. Totally average-tall but [everybody in chorus] on the shorter side.) With good eyes. Brown or something. And a nice smile. (Oh, yeah, he had a nice smile. [Everybody agrees.] Even with that one tooth. Hah! Remember when he -- )
So that's all right. He blends well enough. He's not wearing a corset. Not an obvious one, anyway. Who knows, maybe male corsets are making a come-back, and the short guy's got a back problem, but a corset wouldn't make it very easy to dance, and he came in a crowd. The crowd included women; even if they think he's gay, they'll have expectations. Attire is sloppy, and dark, and lends him some sharpness, made one of his associates say, you-clean-up-well, scrub, which he'd found amusing for various reasons, most of which wouldn't have translated if he'd tried to share the joke.
He doesn't try to share the joke; he's absolutely Nobody and, oh, his boss-or-his-uncle is very sorry he couldn't come, but here, have some drinks, tell-him-about-nothing-relating-to-anything-but " - so this is where the Slutty Nurse costumes go to die after Halloween."
His voice is thunder-low, very deep, a get-into-your-bones sort of voice, and slow.
He doesn't sound like his name would be Jack.
But of course it is.
Kali
The gothed-out Romani girl is currently not doing anything with a purpose...she's not hanging at the bar, because when she's out to actually enjoy herself she prefers not to be in situations where it's conspicuous that she's not drinking. Of course, that's conspicuous just about anywhere in a place that serves drinks, but...you know how it is. She's instead exploring, making her way confidently through the place as she feels it out, gets a sense of what sort of place it is. Where the best dancing places are, where might be good if she comes in with some product to peddle, where the exit routes are.
You always check the exit routes in any new place. It's how she's still alive about seven times over.
Anyway, the dom-looking drug-baron had thrown a quick glace around the bottom floor, figured out how to escape and then slipped up the stairs. The dance floor is usually where it's at, after all. She prowls around the edges of it, moving fluidly and just a bit to the music like a Cobra moving around its prey and swaying to hypnotize before it strikes. Her head cocks to the right, eyes lighting on Bo and she smiles a little bit. She doesn't approach immediately, instead just observing her. She's not trying to be stealthy, she simply doesn't call attention to her right now.
Bo Thomas
[Who's peepin?]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
Hawthorne
Once, only once, someone tries to put a hand on Bo's ass. The hand reaches, brushes, and then suddenly the whole figure is swept away, gone almost before she can even turn to look at her would be molester. She can see where a tall, broad, dark-skinned man in a tight white shirt and the tight white pants of the bouncers is hauling someone toward the back stairwell. If it were a weekend night someone would tell Dana there's room for a handful more, but it's not, so they don't. And the lady-bouncer continues to deny entry to some and grant it to others.
Bo wanders over to those bright white boundary lines, but the person standing there is male. And doesn't grin. He looks down at her with hard dark eyes, hands clasped behind his back so his chest looks broader, he looks bigger, tougher. Like he needs to.
Behind him the VIP section is fairly empty. No lounging lazy Asian man flanked by pretty faces, anyway.
The exits aren't many, as Kali will find, or at least they don't appear to be. There's the front door and those blacked out windows. There's another through the bar that's through the skillfully hidden kitchen, where the trash gets tossed when it needs to get tossed.
There is a man slipping through the crowd, tall and broad-shouldered and strong. Handsome, too, if you're into that sort of face. With an easy smile for everyone, a smile that tonight is sort of broad and almost beaming, full of charm.
[and he continues to weave through the crowd for a wee bit longer, 'cause now i gotta jet for a bit. i'll be back in a while!]
Bo Thomas
There is no one she recognizes behind the glowing velvet rope and she had already encountered Dana at the gates of the club this has Bo biting her lip for a moment in thought as she considered her next move. She continued to bounce, one might call it idly but with Bo's natural energy, it was hard to call anything about her idle.
It comes upon her in the next few moments as she is standing there, thinking and bopping to the music, that feeling that someone, somewhere on this dance floor is watching you, and after a carefully drawn breath Bo turns about, those two long thick pony tails twisting around as she did. Those great green eyes of her's survey the gyrating, thrashing crowd of revelers until at last it falls upon the source of the stare.
With a grin that blossomed from ear to ear Bo took a quick, direct path to Kali as she waved along the way, before stopping before her and looking down at her in surprise.
"Daaamn boss lady! your like Cleopatra, queen of the lost and the damned!" She said, obviously meaning it as a compliment, her hands gesturing to the womans outfit. "Not a work night?"
Kali
Kali gives a little grin when Bo notices her and lifts her chin in greeting. Her smile can't help but warm a little (not that it was cold, but it's a bit less calculating, perhaps) when Bo compliments her ensemble. Kali has her flaws, though she usually keeps them in check and one is an ego about her style. Stroking that ego is always good for getting on the drug lord's good side.
"You're looking pretty good yourself," she says with a wink in response to the compliment. She flicks her eyes around very quickly before an amused expression looks back to the other woman as she asks if it's a work night. "Oh, my dear sweet new favorite employee ever. I don't have non-work nights. I'm just exceedingly bad at not mixing business and pleasure sometimes."
She pauses there (a bit for effect) and then smirks and shrugs. "Although to be fair, tonight is less about work than most nights. I don't get much of a chance to play these days, so I have to relish every chance I get. So is this a decent place?"
Nobody
[Okay, guys. Just for funsies, we have the ultimate question: can Jack, will Jack, dance the socks off these drunk hospital peeps before fleeing their company for more important folks? Dex + Perf?]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 5, 7) ( success x 1 )
Bo Thomas
Bo isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, but she knows what to talk about, and what to keep a lid on, she knows how to mention certain things in the company of others, and she keeps to those rules, for all anyone else knows, they both worked at a call center for Suzy Shier. Bo goes up on her tiptoes to show off her own outfit when shes complimented on it and then bounces back on the balls of her feet as she watches Kali.
"Sounds like a pretty kick in the ass awesome work ethic to me." She says with a wink, before looking around and considering Kali's second question. "It's been pretty good so far, this is only my second time...couldn't afford the cover before, but noooow." She waggles her eyebrows. "Thanks to my upward mobility in the work sector...I've been able to expand my areas of interest." She says it so seriously, despite the creeping smirk that was quivering its way up her lip.
"Oh! I got those things you suggested, and I'm all ready to get going on that project. I've got my list." She taps the side of her head. "All worked out."
Kali
Kali's helping contribute to Bo's social life, it would seem. The dommed-up Ravnos seems pleased by it and nods. "Glad I could help with that. And badassery...we'll handle all that later during office hours." Of course, she just said she's never not working so what 'office hours' might mean is fairly questionable, outside of simply 'not right now.'
She casts her eyes out over the dance floor a moment, scanning along the teeming mass of humanity, and then back to Bo. "So what do you like to do when on a club night? Are you a dancer, a drinker, a 'get lost in the back rooms' type, a hookup hunter, or a connoiseur of the whole sampler platter?" There's a deeply curious look behind those red-shaded eyes, over her more casual smile.
Nobody
There's something to be said about a club where wandering hands aren't treated as a matter-of-course, as a tithe paid to the worship of grain, eh? There's something to be said about German-esque efficiency, even if there's also something to be said about the ridiculously cheap nurse-and-medical-uniforms. This one woman -- who is, if you please, newly-promoted and working just under a clinical director at St. Joseph's -- leans on the short but pleasant dark-skinned Don't-Look-At-Him-Twice young man's shoulder and gleefully points out something she wore on-shift last Halloween. He tells her that she probably looked quite fetching; he trades his untouched drink out for her half-full one; she asks him whether he's trying to get her drunk. He buzzkills that accusation by beginning to take his drink back; she says, oh no, oh no, that's fine, I was just checking, and then Gary Olsen who is his 'boss's' initial contact into this little shindig, the reason he's here, drags Nobody up and out and into the midst of the dancefloor.
Or: not quite the midst. This crowd isn't one of those people. They're just trying to have fun. They're not trying to stand out or have the time of their lives. They're just trying to be together, and maybe not remember all of it: Dana, and Gary, and Lisa, and Alice, and Samantha, and Jeremy, and Jorges who doesn't dance. Nobody definitely doesn't stand out. He can dance, but it's under-the-radar, it's background-chorus.He's the chorus. Many-faced. Many-eyed. Like the seraphim.
He is the guy-you-don't-remember, but-he-fills-a-spot, and if the spot were empty, well, it'd be empty and that'd be a shame.
But it's while he's dancing, remembering to lose his breath a little, that he espies not one but two women he knows. Blame Kali's hair. Blame coincidence, or chance, or any-such-thing, but he's immediately interested, because is that Bo, talking to, and really, well at least it's not, and so on and so forth.
He's naturally a skulker; he's been made into a Sneak.
He's not trying to sneak up on Kali right now; she just doesn't know who this unimpressive specimen is who's weaving through the crowd to get to her and Bo.
And, okay, he kind of does skulk.
Skulk, skulk, sneak, sneak.
Dana's wondering where went that nice Mister--
Bo Thomas
Bo holds up her hands as if to stop Kali right then and there, a laugh unheard on her lips ass he then gestures to herself. "Me? Boss lady you know that I'm all about the all you can eat buffet with platter sized plates. If I don't try every little piece of a place then.." Her grin widens slightly as she finishes. "What would be the point in paying that cover charge?" She hits Kali on the shoulder, a hit that likely barely registers, as it wasn't really mean't to, it was fun and affectionate.
"Though I do tend to minimize the whole hooking up thing. I mean, I like a friend as much as the next but...yeah, things get messy that way, messy bad." She shrugs. "But thats all part of the platter really." She starts to dance now, getting her legs into the motion, her dance as different from Kali's as possible, all energy and grace, but absolutely no skill.
"Come on boss lady, that floor ain't gonna dance itself."
Kali
Bo's response seems to satisfy Kali, and she gives an approving nod. "Hell to the yes, chizznick. That's what I'm talkin' bout. I like the way that you think...this is clearly the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
She reacts appropriately to the punch, letting her body move a little bit. "You ask me, though...sometimes messy bad can be just as fun as messy good. But then, I never claimed to be normal. Normal is entirely too boring, if you ask me. Give me all the glorious mess, the wonderful extrications, the twists and turns that come with twisting and turning." She doesn't sound like she's talking about strictly physical encounters (though certainly those are part and parcel), but instead in a much more expansive manner. "It's all learning experience. And it's all a shit-ton of fun."
Bo tries to entice her to dance, and the Ravnos grins and shrugs. "Eh, why not?"
She's off her game, with her attention more focused on Bo and less situationally aware than usual. As such she doesn't seem to notice the person sneaking up on her as she begins to move. Kali has experience on the dance floor and it shows. Once she gets moving, she also apparently has no issues about personal space and while she's not skeezing up the place, she's definitely moving in a more provocative manner. The cobra hypnotizing its prey again.
Hawthorne
Hawthorne moves through the crowd of the first floor, not really unnoticed, because it's hard not to notice him. He's tall, he's okay on the eyes, he's dressed well. He moves with a fluid kind of lazy grace, weaves through the crowd with ease. Watching people. Eyeing them, sizing them up. Once he stops one of the waitresses, puts his hand on her waist and pulls her a little close but not too close. Leans in close and whispers something, hears something in return, straightens with a smile. Then he's off again. Endlessly circulating.
He makes his way upstairs, of course, to see that his people are doing their damn jobs. It's amazing the kind of positive spike in business making sure the female visitors are treated well. There is a group of people gathered near-ish to the dancefloor, which in itself isn't that odd. There are plenty of groups gathered to shout at each other over the noise level.
But one of their number, the suddenly-much-taller-than-before young woman who'd worn a Star Trek insignia on the wrong side of her dress. At the top of the stairs he stops when he sees her, and his smile is smallish, faintish. He moves through this more energized crowd at a slow lazy pace, as if he has all the time in the world to go
well, not over to Bo. He takes a few steps toward the dance floor and veers a little off, like he's a comet that's suddenly been gently pulled into the orbit of some other planet. Like he's going to a booth near the back.
Bo Thomas
[Per+Alert Who do I see?]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 2, 10) ( success x 1 )
Nobody
The credit should go to Bo, shouldn't it? Bo is a bonfire. Bo is warm. Bo drew Kali, drew Jack [even if Kali shares that credit right now], draws Hawthorne. Bo, all luminous, and vibrant, and loud, and alive.
Hawthorne is smiling, all faint, all handsome -- right over there.
Jack is grinning like he's just seen an old friend, and his teeth very white in the dark, because Kali is off her game, so he's square in her way; there's even some awkward-shuffling, or about-to-be-shuffling, that Oh-No-I'm-In-Your-Way, I'm-Not-Going-To-Be, But-It's-Too-Late-To-Just-Dive-Out social grace, and a --
"Yo, Hypothetical Girl. Just saying hi. If you remember me"
Just saying, hello, why yes, we are near what had been winter's most dangerous zone, but look: it's a we again.
Like she won't: "Hudson!"
Bo Thomas
Bo laughs as Kali talks about getting into the messy bits of life, how they can be just as great, just as exciting, and just as thrilling as every other bit out there. The young woman nods repeatedly, seeming to grove on the idea, absorbing it. She'd always been about the most fun and experience with the least amount of hassle, but maybe that would change.
"Preachin to the choir boss lady, just dont preach to the choir boys." She lets a friendly smirk ride across her features once more, sliding through as she watches Kali dance, they really couldn't be any different in their styles, if you tried to match them together there might be broken bones, or at least tattered clothing, but they manage for now at least.
Bo is so distracted by Kali that she almost...ALMOST misses the arrival of Ted and after a second, those green eyes watching the man walk casually towards the back she looks at Kali. "Speakin of messy." She says biting her lip as she checks her outfit with one hand. "You keep dancin boss lady, I've gotta go see about my own messy moment alright?" She says with a wink before stepping around and trying....as always to find her way through the crowd, right past Jack.
Kali
She is thrown off a little bit by Jack's sudden appearance, losing a bit of her dancing smoothness for a moment. She recovers quickly and doesn't seem remotely suprised though that the face doesn't match the voice; she's already grinning as she turns to look to the man she knows with another visage entirely. "Hey, there. You remembered my safe word."
She grins, and moves to introduce 'Hudson' to Bo when the other woman moves past Jack and heads off to follow a guy toward the back. Her eyebrow quirks, though she's still smiling as she nods to Bo. "Mess away, hot wings."
She watches her new employee head off, eyes tracking her. Ravnos may not be particularly well-known for giving a shit about anyone other than themselves, but Jack may actually note a bit of her mask slip away and see a bit of protectiveness in the way she makes sure that Bo isn't accosted along the way, and the way she keeps her corner of her eye trained on the destination booth while she looks back to him.
"Funny running into you here...Hudson." She smiles a bit. "Howsit?"
Hawthorne
Ted doesn't go all the way to the corner, nor does he check and look behind him to make sure he's been spotted, make sure he's being followed. Chased. He slows his pace even more because he knows she's there, or that she will be soon enough. He slows and then he stops and then he looks off to the side, like he's just had a thought and he needs to look out over the writhing mass of dancing bodies in order for his mind to fully conceptualize it.
Or something. He's stopped and he's looking off to the side a little, and so he sees from the corner of his eye the now-slightly-taller, somewhat-longer-haired young woman from the other night. He turns his head a little further when he catches sight of her, then his shoulders shift, then the rest of him. His smile widens, only a little.
He waits for her, there. He waits for her to come up to him, his smile as kindly and benevolent as she's ever seen it.
Nobody
Hudson - and let's just go ahead and call Nobody 'Hudson' tonight, though we all know better, we all know that behind the mask is a Jack and a Jack's always a Jack even before he's got the name Jack tattooed on the rib above the missing rib god took to make a woman - ahem. "'Course I did," says Hudson. "Be a shit of a partner if I didn't."
He gives Bo a side-long look as she does one of those quick preen-and-primps that some women do, then hies herself off toward trouble with a capital T, but the side-long look is the kind of look that she slips out've real quickly, because Hudson's watching the Ravnos watching the Bo, and whatever he sees makes him put both hands on the top of his head, fingers lacing and disappearing into curly-wavy-dark-messy hair.
"I'm shocked," he says, in tonight's deep voice, "that you don't look around and think 'this is just the place for my friend Hudson.' It's all right. I know the neighborhood's 'bout to go to the dogs, but gotta class it up," This Face's eyes hood, almost languid, and then he grins wide. "I was dragged by some folks." Cue, a self-deprecating twinkle.
But then, and more seriously: "I know that girl. You're not gonna eat her, are you?"
Bo Thomas
It's like a game of cat and mouse, but one might wonder to whom each role is given? Ted takes his time, moving of his own accord, and as always bo barely seems to find her way through the crowd after him, as if it moved of its own volition to block her from him to deny her, or to deny him. But he turns, he watches her and that beatific smile spreads across his lips.
Her own smile spreads into something of a mischievous grin as she steps the last few meters towards him, a spring in her step that had nothing to do with the platforms which gave her that extra height. "If it isn't my favourite auto mechanic." She offers with a tilt of her head as she stepped up to Ted, the man still towering over her despite her shoes.
"How are you TDB? still incredible?"
Hawthorne
He smiles down at her and that look is gentle and fond as he slides his hands into the pockets of dark, designer slacks. His shirt tonight is a light sage green, the cuffs rolled up to his elbows. His eyes travel from her face to her hair and then directly to her shoes, with no stops or lingers over her body or her dress along the way.
He's a nice guy, remember? He keeps her secrets and he doesn't crush her against him on the occasion that they dance. He keeps his gaze respectful as it comes straight back to her face and, okay. Maybe it lingered a little that time. But he's a red-blooded male, isn't he? Such things are to be expected, right?
"You're taller," he says, leaning down because his voice is low and quiet and he doesn't want to shout, or he doesn't want her to strain herself to hear him. Or both.
Kali
Her getting sorta-snuck-up-on by Jack notwithstanding, Kali's good at focusing her attention in multiple places when she needs to. And that's what she does now, subtley adjusting her positioning relative to Jack so that she can see both him and her new employee. She chuckles when he gets playful about this being just the place for him, nodding a little bit. Everyone has their reasons for being here, whether it's half-fun/half-business like the Ravnos, all fun like Bo or being dragged her like 'Hudson.'
"Well, nothing wrong with that. This is my first time enjoying the environs and I have to say...I like what I see so far." She sighs, perhaps a bit wistfully. "You know, there was a point where I thought about opening up a nightclub myself. It would be good for my primary business and...well, I just enjoy the environment. Even beyond its advantages for our sorts of peeps...you have to appreciate a good beat and the opportunity to watch people combine putting up an act with being themselves."
She pauses, then smirks. "And, of course, people who are trying to be themselves but are putting up an act...or trying to put up an act but actually revealing who they really are. That's all in the club scene. But that would require me being sure I could stay in one place for long enough to make it worth it."
She gives a light smile when Jack asks if she's going to eat Bo. "She's my new employee, and one I'm taking a very personal interest in. So no, or at least not in the way that some might. And, with no malice intended here...if you plan to, we may have to change from seeing eye-to-eye to seeing eye-to-spleen. My eye, your spleen." It's not said in a hostile way at all; it's just making the point. Hers.
Nobody
Let's be honest: getting sorta-snuck-up-on by Jack isn't going to do your Pay-Attention-To-Things rep much harm, if any harm at all. There are plenty of people who just assume that they'll never see him coming; he'll just suddenly be there, a shape with who-knows-what-face coalescing out've a space that was formerly so uninteresting nobody looked to see nobody there, y'know?
"Do you want to stay in one place long enough to make it worth it?" He sounds, and looked, intrigued; as if perhaps there lies the key to Kali's willingness to stay in Denver with the barbarians at the gate [and, really, go ahead: be surprised by how close to the gate you are, Nosferatu]. The key to her desire for status in the Camarilla. The key. Or a key. Nobody's got a ring of keys, one for every person that he knows; sometimes the keys are locks instead, and they don't quite fit, but he's certainly he'll eventually get it. "'Cause if you decide to make a move, I can help you with the licensing."
But it's while she's talking about people trying to be themselves but putting up an act, and every possible head-spinning variation there-of, that he looks around at the dancers, the faux-nurses and faux-doctors, back over to Bo and the asian man.
- and with no malice intended here -
He waves as if to say not-a-chance, listens keenly, and then shakes his head and says, dolorously: "Your eye in my spleen would hurt us both, Kali m'dear, but don't worry. I just want her to live;" a pause, as if for a moment that's all he might say.
Until: "she could work for worse."
Mood-change, puppy-hopeful lift of his eyebrows: "Dance me over to my friends. It'll give me cred; you look pretty hot."
Bo Thomas
Bo raises a brow to one side, her head tilting in the same way as she watched Ted's features, a step taken towards the man absently as she put her hands on her lower back and kicked one foot forward to show off her two inch platforms.
"We have the money, we have the technology to make you prettier, clumsier, taller." She declares as she bebops a little and then stands straight once more. "Through the miracle of modern shoemanship Ted, i have gained a mighty two inches on my former self. Impressive no?" She looks at him, her eyes dropping to look at his clothing ever so briefly before looking up, up and up some more to look into those eyes once more.
"So i gotta wonder, whats a guy like you doing in a place like this on a wednesday? I mean, I know why I'm here...but what about you hmmm?" She asks taking another daring step forward. "Awfully suspicious seeing an auto mechanic around here in the middle of the week." She gives him that big ol stare like shes trying to figure out what the deal is, Ted was a man of mystery, name aside.
Kali
Jack asks her if she wants to stay long enough, and Kali smiles. It's never a situation of 'want' for a Ravnos. Come Kindred think that the group moves around with relative impunity do everything that they desire and stay as long as they wish, to the infinite frustrations of Princes and Bishops alike. The truth (or at least, the Ravnos' perspective--and let's be honest, truth is just perspective) is very different. While the Ravnos have their resourceful ways, far more often than not a Ravnos' move is punctuated not by desire but a need to escape things like an angry rival, shifting politics and/or, if things have gotten really heated, a Blood Hunt.
Kali has more reasons than most to have to move, and some of them don't have anything to do with the Camarilla or Sabbat.
She looks over at Jack and tilts her head in response to the question. "Mmm...maybe. Ask me again later when we don't have the apocalypse bearing down on us in potentially four-legged form." The grin she gives is very much teasing, punctuated with a wink and a bumping of her hip into his.
"Now, point the way and I will be happy to make you look good." Flattery gets you a lot of places with Kali.
Hawthorne
Impressive, no? she asks, and he doesn't answer, not directly. He does pull his hand from his pocket, lets it hover in the air between them as she leans back, ready to catch her maybe should she topple over unexpectedly. She doesn't, and so his hand merely lowers to rest at his side.
"You said you were perfect already." It's a comment, it's her words back at her. Said with that smile, in that way she thinks is so smooth, it sounds like maybe he agreed with her.
She steps closer and the look in his eyes shifts. The smile does not. "Is it?" he asks, his head tilting a little as he looks down at her.
Nobody
"Hah," says he, with feeling. Kali hip-checks him, and he beams at her: "The kindest of Kalis. They are - " says Hudson, and they've moved since he abandoned them. They've split into fragments and re-joined, amorphous, essentially a group, though one that bleeds to let some others in. "There," once he's pinned them, and the curl of This Face's lips is appreciative, and with a shall-we lift of his eyebrows, away-they-dancing-go.
Just for a little while.
Then Nobody's just nobody-in-particular to look at once more.
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