Meet'n'Greet, Take 3

[ParanoidAndroid]

The Rage is, as is normal for this time of the evening, packed. There are enough people on the dance floor that 'comfort' and 'privacy' are left at the tables on the edges of the room. DJ Jammer giving the crowd something to dance to from his booth overlooking the dance floor. The bar, well-stocked as always, dispenses what people need to forget the daily grind and just dance under the strobing lights.

Carefully disguised Supernal Runes sprayed throughout the city lead here, indicating that this is a safe haven, a place to live for a night, to meet who you have to meet.

Rules are the same as the previous ones : Please don't mention the results of threads in progress, since they aren't done. There are private rooms available in the back for those who ask. Active spells are permitted. Spellcasting itself, however, isn't. Not without Jammer's say-so. Otherwise, go nuts.

[Pulp Noir]

Iggy Pop is pounding in my ears as I walk towards the club all the signs seemed to point towards, some place called the Rage. I like the name and the exterior appearance of the place, it reminds me of the Hunting Ground back home, except of course I'm not breaking up a brawl in the parking lot between a pair of Council Life Mages who funded their personal lifestyles by selling pot to suburban kids half lost in the big city. That is a plus I think to myself as I click off the iPod nano and approach the place, its atmosphere, its music, its pulse, at once something familiar and yet just as foreign. Both emotions call out to me like a long lost lover beckoning to join in an embrace you barely remember, hinting at half remembered pleasures and ... and ... and fuck me I need some actual human contact or to get laid or something before I drive myself nuts.

Luckily for me the noise of the club blasts away any of that lingering Hallmark bullshit playing in my mind and allows my brain to take stock of the new situation with a clear head on my shoulders. I get my barrings in the place, spot a booth that offers a good view of certain areas I'd like to keep an eye on and decide to grab a beer to better fit into the setting. As I reach the bar and look over their bottled selection, bottles seeming to be the preferred beverage container among males in my age group. I am not impressed and am reminded yet again that I'm no longer in a country with mass produced beer that doesn't taste like cold donkey piss. In the case of Corona it might really be donkey piss, while that brand seems popular, I do have some fucking standards and thus it's MGD for me.

Taking a sip of the beer, I make my way to the booth I'd picked out and wait. I don't know who I am waiting for, which at least gives me a reason to check out most of the attractive club goers who pass through my field of vision as I watch for ... someone. At least focusing on the world around me keeps my mind from drifting off into the past again. Tonight is about tonight ... and tomorrow.

Pulp

Pulp4.jpg

[Tug]

Tug walked into the Rage, albeit with trepidation. He'd never had any kind of luck here but bad, and he had his doubts about the proprietor, but as soon as he and Tom got back to Sacramento, the ghost had gotten moody and the wizard needed a damn drink. The Circle could wait 'til tomorrow. Despite his reservations about the place, it was still a haven for the Pentacle, and his duty as an Arrow meant that his doubts were all the more reason to keep an eye on it...and Jammer. The big guy wonders if the meager disguise he's been sporting these past few months, the sunglasses and trucker hat with black mullet attached will be sufficient now that he's back in town, and decides against it. Here, tonight, he's not going to take any chances. He stops off in a gas station bathroom and locks the door behind him. "Mirror, mirror," he jokes, and the meaning of the next syllables utters are lost to time...

Rolls

2011-07-19 13:27:04 tugglez rolls 9 to many faces (life4+gno3+2HS) (10 Again) 5, 4, 8, 7, 6, 9, 9, 4, 2 3 successes
2011-07-19 13:26:40 tugglez rolls 1 to dox (2 base -1 tool) (10 Again) 7 failure
*Tug changes his face and body to appear thinner, then makes his nose thinner as well.

He slides the hat on, adjusts it for his new head size, and places the shades tightly on his face. Content that his reflection no longer looks like the dearly departed Donnie Briggs, he makes his way over and into the Rage and orders himself a beer. The taste of the frosty amber lager soothes the big guy's nerves and he takes a minute to look about the joint, taking care not to stare at Jammer. He sees a young guy at a booth, sitting by himself and watching the patrons without interacting with any of them. Having seen this routine on several occasions from new magi in town, he figures this might be one of theirs. Tug makes his way over, sipping on his beer, and stops at the table without sitting. "What's up, man," he says with a slight nod of greeting to Pulp, then tips his beer back. "Crazy art in this place, huh? I dig that one," he says, thumbing towards the Arrow's sigil. "Oh, right, my bad. Call me Tug. What's your name, bro?"

[Mike Tamwood]

His head was still full with the stress of finding a good apartment, a sanctum. He was in Sacramento for a while now, yet he hadn't found the right place. At least not someplace where the rest of the family wants to live, or be dead in. With all the stress, Mike was ready for a night out. A place called the Rage, that he could have used years ago.

He steps in, not yet completely in the right mood, but as soon as he sees the crowd he's sure that'll happen soon. He is just wearing some clothes he thought he could do enough moves in.

Mike looks at all the supernal patterns on the walls. Wow, most certainly 'the' place to be? While starting a little dance already he glances around, looking for other mages. A simple spell could reveal their secret to those with the right sight.

Mike

[Iblardora]

Ahriman steps into the Rage, glancing around. He wasn't in his normal get up tonight, no suit tailored just right, nor sweats, instead he was in a pair of tight jeans over sneakers and a nice shirt that showed off his body, something he normally didn't do. Still tonight was not a night to worry about that. For once the shy Mastigos wanted to be out around others and let loose. He was in the mood to get others to notice him and to have fun. With out really looking up at the walls he moves in, dodging people as he moves towards the bar.

In the back of his mind he felt the Daimon shifting himself down, with the most smug feeling radiating from what now read to Ahriman as his "presence". He was ready to party, to push Ahriman to expand his horizons.

[Pulp Noir]

Of course the first Awakened person I run into has to be an Arrow. I know that the Guardian job was what got played up back home, but in reality ( ie everything other than journalism ) it was the Arrows who had always been the big bad for the Free Council of T dot, the ones who always seemed to wrap themselves in the blue blanket of tradition and scowl at us Libertines. Still that was there and then, this is the here and now and this guy, Tug, isn't wearing a set of armor, which was probably "borrowed" from the ROM, and I would have to be a pretty big jackass to take all that old bullshit out on someone I just met. I usually like to spend a few minutes talking to someone before using them as a personification of whatever issue is pissing me off this week.

That was a joke. It's usually something more along the lines of an hour, two tops.

Another joke.

I make a salute of my bottle towards Tug as he takes a gulp of his drink, pounding back a good quarter of the MGD before offering my own name. Hey he offered a salute with his own drink, I had to do likewise. It's Bro Code or Man Law or something made up by SpikeTV to disguise the fact that they bleep their swearing and cut out nudity.

"Pulp." It sounds enough like Paul with the music playing, in case anyone was listening in. "Personally I prefer something a bit more sleek and modern." I nod towards the Free Council symbol, wait there's a Free Council symbol ... maybe we're not feared and hated here ... "Still art is a personal thing, as long we respected each other's taste things are usually fine."

[Animus]

Animus enters the club, flinching back under the sudden sensory assault. For a moment he closes his eyes, letting his focus drift among the multitude of living patterns as he grounds himself.

Once the Thyrsus' nerves are settled, he takes a good look around the club, scanning for the telltale glow of active spells. It isn't easy amidst the constantly flashing lights, but finally he catches sight of the pair at the booth and makes his way over, taking a seat without the slightest hesitation. "You two new in town?"

Apparently Tug's disguise isn't half bad.

[Pulp Noir]

The new friend siting across from me makes four Awakened in the general area I had my eye on. Tug the Arrow was one, Mr. Confidence of Authority was two, Jeans and Sneakers was three and the Calvin Klein model at the bar, need to buy him a beer later, was number four. Popular place, at least the signs had been right for once.

"Yeah, I just got into town about a week ago." I offer half a polite smile. "Name's Pulp."

I glance again at the two other Awakened by the bar. "Popular place."

[Tug]

'Pulp' sounds like a Shadow name to Tug, and the reference to 'modern art' in conjunction with the FC sigil lets Tug know he's likely stumbled on to another mage, as he suspected. Before he can take a seat, though, his disguise fools a good friend. "Hey, Big A," the big guy booms. "No, not exactly new, but I'll take that as a compliment." The big guy guffaws in a familiar way and drops his shades for a second, to show his unaltered eyes to his Hierarch and fellow Arrow. "It's me, Tug. How you doin', man?" He doesn't take a seat yet, though, but waits for Animus' reaction and welcome. At Pulp's 'popular' comment, the big guy's head swivels 'round to the bar to check it out before looking back to Animus.

[Matt]

Brent heads into The Rage. It had been a long day and he was in need of a good stiff drink. It had been a day of checking his bank accounts to make sure his money had gone in. A few clients had "forgot" to pay which was always a pain. Ordering a pint and a shot he quickly downs the shot before heading over to Animus.

"Hi Animus Good to see you again."